by Evie Jordan
“Danny?” she called into the boat.
A groan said the guys were just now getting up.
“I got a job here for a bit, so I’m gonna stick around. You guys can leave whenever.”
“Shut. Up.” Preston’s voice.
Yeah, she wasn’t going to miss them. Probably she should have gone for a walk before coming to the boat, but if she was going to stick around, she’d rather just grab her things now. She stepped down into the sailboat and went to her tiny cabin, digging her duffel out of the bottom of her pile of things.
Handful by handful, she got her clothes, shoes, and books back in her bag. So little was needed here.
The sink was a mess of dishes. The table was littered with electronics. She would not be sorry to leave this mess behind. She dragged the heavy bag on deck, avoiding the small cabins where the guys slept. Her scuba gear was in storage accessed from the front deck, so she pulled out her vest, regulator, weights, and the nice tank. The guys would be traveling and could pick up new tanks if they needed to.
“Need help?” Trace stood on the dock, his face about level with the front deck of the boat.
If she was gonna be here, and he was sticking around, they’d have to come to a kind of truce. She heaved her scuba gear and he carefully lowered it to the dock. She tossed him her duffel and grinned when his “oof” echoed between them.
“Is this all books?” he groaned.
“Just a few,” she said, “and maybe a few pairs of shoes.”
He touched her scuba vest. “I’ve always wanted to try this.”
Katy jumped off the boat into the dock. “Scuba is breathing in and out. That’s it.”
“So, I hear.”
Their eyes met. Light brown with a dark rim on the edge of the iris. The same interest but with less flirtation. Strange because usually when she tried to tell guys to lay off, they either slathered their attitude on stronger, or they’d roll their eyes and leave her completely alone. Trace was doing neither—once again surprising her.
“Grab some gear with your dollars, and I can help you get started.” Wait. What did she just offer?
“Seriously?” he asked, his features lighting up.
No. Not seriously. What on earth had she just done? “Uh…”
Two minutes after she ended her babysitting job of her brother and his friends, she’d agreed to help some spoiled guy learn to scuba dive?
“You okay?” he asked. “You’re frowning.”
“No. Um. Sorry.” She shook her head. “If you…um…have stuff…equipment…we can dive.” She wasn’t going to take back her offer just because she didn’t always have control over what came out of her mouth. At least there was no talking underwater.
“Awesome.”
Nope. She wasn’t going to think about how cute he looked with the dimple on his left cheek and the excitement still dancing in his eyes. Guys were off the table for now. She jerked her duffel over a shoulder, picked up her scuba vest, and snatched her tank. “See you around.” What about this guy made her so up and down? If this continued, she wouldn’t have to worry about his attention. She’d seem so psycho, he’d start giving her a wide berth when they crossed paths.
Regan’s interior design program was one that Katy had used in her couple years of college. The layout and colors for the small houses were good, but after traveling up and down the Bahamas, Katy was able to add some details to really make the area of the world come to life in the small spaces without resorting to tacky tactics.
“I’m sitting here in awe,” Regan said. “You know you could do this professionally, right?”
Katy shrugged. Yeah, she knew. Her dad would be all too thrilled if she were to join in the family business on any front, but there was something to be said for making her own way in the world. Later. When she was ready.
“Happy to help,” Katy said. “Would you like to fill out the purchase orders, or would you like me to?”
“I’ve got it,” Regan said. “Why don’t you finish getting settled? Or better yet, walk around the island, make yourself familiar with it. We need to map the trails for guests, and soon.”
“I can do that,” Katy said. “Don’t suppose you have a drone?”
A corner of Regan’s mouth kicked up. “No, but I know a man who would love an excuse to buy one.”
“Well, it would make mapping the trails a lot easier.” She stood. “I’m gonna check over my things and maybe take a walk to get familiar with the place.”
“We’re in the middle of a very soft opening,” Regan said. “We’re not even really advertising yet.”
“Glad we found you, then.”
Regan smiled. “Well, it’s definitely working in my favor.”
Katy headed back to her small cabin. If they could afford to let her stay in this spot even after they opened more fully, it would be a great place to spend some time. She grabbed a bottle of water and started up a trail. The walking helped lessen the floating, swaying feeling that she was still on the boat. The sandy trails were a nice touch, someone had to have spent a long time on them. They’d need up-keep. She pushed up a hill and stopped at a large wooden deck—the highest spot on the island. The wood was newer, so it must have been a recent addition. The deep blue of the Atlantic Ocean spread out to her right and the bright turquoise of the Caribbean spread out to her left. If someone added a few chairs and a firepit, this would be a fantastic spot.
A few yells and shouts came from below her and squinting toward a crescent shaped beach on the Atlantic side, she could just make out the small strip of new construction. That would definitely give guests the real feel of the quiet side of the Bahamas. They must be the cabins she’d just finished the interior plans for.
She started down the path and stopped at the childlike signs marking the directions. Maybe she’d redo those. Couldn’t hurt. But, if they didn’t get many guests, she wouldn’t make much money. Which was fine, she had her trust fund, she just really didn’t want to have to use it.
Winding her way through the short trees and shrubs, she found herself on the strip of beach. Alone. Well, aside from the guys hollering about Hold it! And Over there! But they were far enough off the beach that she definitely didn’t feel as if she were sharing the spot.
The gentle curve of sand probably stretched a quarter mile or more. The pathways, plus this beach, gave her a lot of choices of places to run. Too long on the boat, and no matter how much swimming she did, moving through the water didn’t quite give her the same satisfaction as running.
But still…she didn’t realize how much she needed off the boat until she stood there—her brother and his friends probably adding to the mess in Three Degrees.
“Hey!” called a man’s voice from behind her.
Katy turned to see Trace standing on the unfinished brick wall of one of the new houses.
“How’s it going?” he called.
The temptation was to ignore him, but she’d already turned. Katy waved in response. Time to get back to her cabin and figure out if she was ready to accept Regan’s invitation to dinner, or if she’d rather make ramen noodles in her small room.
But, if she were being honest with herself, her decision had a lot more to do with her wondering if she wanted to spend an evening with a guy who was clearly interested in her—or interested in parts of her. She’d much prefer to work at a resort for honeymooners. People who only had eyes for each other.
Oh, well. At least she was off the boat for a while.
Chapter Five
The sun was setting far too fast as Trace steered Colby’s boat back to the island. He stared at the navigation screen, which directed him around rocks, reefs, and shallow spots. The electronics on this thing meant that a monkey could probably drive the boat. Trace’s new stash of scuba gear, and Colby’s package, lay tucked next to him.
Kate had offered to scuba, and he was for sure going to accept. By the time he pulled up to the dock, the sunlight was nearly gone. The large space under t
he roof of the harbor house was lit up—showing Regan and Katy. Colby was already on his way down to the lower dock where Trace was attempting to get the boat close enough so it could be tied.
In a quick, deft move, Colby had a line around a cleat on the boat, and Trace killed the engine.
The two secured the boat, and Colby lifted Trace’s gear. “I’d say that I can’t believe you went and did this, but…”
“But it’s totally like me.” Trace flipped the vest onto his shoulder, and the two men carried his new things toward the two women. “I mean, we worked hard to get to the point where we could be comfortable, you know?”
The point where he didn’t have to count pennies at the grocery store. He’d put himself on a budget, but it was bigger than anything he’d expected for himself. Once they were near the table where the women sat, Trace put his things down.
Katy’s eyes moved over his small pile of purchases. “You got nice stuff.”
Was that good? Bad? Was he dumb for worrying about what her words might mean?
“Well, if I wasn’t comfortable underwater, I’d probably hate scuba, and it seems really cool so…” His words trailed off as he waited for her response. This girl, who he’d just met, who didn’t like him, had his stomach in knots the way girls had in high school. “So, I wanted good gear.”
“Hmm.” She nodded. “I’m not an official instructor, so you’ll still want to get certified or diving companies won’t let you dive.”
Nothing a few extra dollars couldn’t fix. But he bit down the words. After growing up poor, he was constantly amazed at how many more doors were open just because he had more dollars than his parents had when they were his age.
Trace sat, thanked Colby and Regan for the food, and dug in. Bahamian peas and rice were quickly becoming one of his favorite dishes.
The women’s voices chatted over each other as they solidified details for the cabins. There was talk about purchase orders and colors and a few other things his brain couldn’t latch on to.
“You’re being quiet,” Colby whispered.
Yeah, he was. And he wasn’t quite sure why. Just his insides feeling mixed up. “Sore from how hard you worked me,” he teased, instead of trying to decipher what he really felt.
Colby rested back in his wicker chair. “Yeah. Some days I push a little too hard. Regan thinks I need to hire more out.”
For the first time, Katy’s attention wavered to him and then to Colby. “It would get done faster.”
Colby shrugged. “I have the luxury of not being in a hurry, and not wanting to be the man who hires everything out because he can.”
With those words, Regan’s smile widened. She leaned forward, and Colby met her halfway. Trace averted his eyes—being a third-wheel sucked. Then his gaze caught Katy’s. Being part of four wheels that weren’t quite working together, sucked even more.
“I should crash.” Katy stood. “I’ll work on maps tomorrow and making new signs.”
And with a few words, she stepped out of the light.
“Wait!” Trace launched out of his chair with only half an idea as to what he should say.
Katy had stopped just around the corner of the house. Once he reached her she started walking again, and he kept pace.
“Remember what I told you!” Colby called.
Oh great, that was nice.
“What he told you?” Katy asked.
Yeah, he’d kill Colby later. “Earlier he said I had to behave.”
“Does that tend to be a problem for you?” The darkness masked her expression. “Behaving?”
“No!” he blurted. “I mean, I don’t think so, no.”
A brow lifted. “You don’t think so?”
Curse the lack of light! “Maybe you could help me find a shovel, so I can dig myself deeper into this hole?”
“Oh”—she paused—“I think you’re doing just fine on your own.”
Was this it? Should he just walk away?
And then her laughter lit the air. His smile was immediate.
Only now, he wasn’t quite sure what to say—that was new. Katy stopped at the boardwalk that led to the cabins where they were staying. Trace stopped with her. The small streetlamp lit her face from the side, casting shadows across her delicate features.
“When you first got here, I shouldn’t have come on so strong, I’m sorry,” he said.
She released a slow breath, her eyes traveling over his face.
How to explain. How did someone tell a gorgeous girl that even a few years ago, he wouldn’t have had a chance with her? He’d have been that weird kid Trace, who was always on his computer. Now…There had been times when women had straight-up propositioned him, and after being the guy who went to prom with a group of friends rather than risk being turned down for a date, he didn’t quite know what to do with the influx of attention. “I’m still…I’m still getting my footing with this big life change, you know? Two years ago, I was digging through my couch for change to take to Taco Bell.”
Her heart-shaped lips softened from the line she’d held.
“Anyway.” He backed up a step. “I’m sorry. I hope you get a great night’s sleep. I’m just hoping I can move tomorrow after the work I did today.”
He winced as he rolled his shoulders, and she actually gave him a faint smile.
As Trace moved back down the trail toward the Harbor House, her whisper barely caught him.
“Thank you. Good night.”
More whirring noises from above, dragged Trace’s attention from his precarious position on the wall of one of Colby’s small houses. “What is that?”
“The drone,” Colby answered. “That was the package I had you get when you went to town for scuba stuff last night.”
He grasped one of the trusses and peered up. “Who’s flying it?”
“There are four people on the island, Trace.”
Right. So, one of the women then.
The drone hovered over the two men, and Trace craned his neck. A wave of dizziness tilted the world around him. He quickly lowered himself to sitting on the brick wall. “I think I need a break.”
“Let’s get off the walls, at least.”
With a long sigh of relief, Trace slowly climbed down the ladder.
“If you could help me get this plastic sheeting over the insulation, that’d be great. Then we’ll break for lunch.”
The thing about standing under plastic sheeting, Trace soon learned, was that it amplified the heat times about a million. Sweat dripped in his eyes, ran down his back, his rear…Or maybe his butt was sweating. Who even knew at this point. Colby was working the stapler, one staple at a time, but not nearly fast enough to prevent Trace from dying under a sheet of plastic. He took another step forward at Colby’s request and then stopped again as the stapling started up.
Trace sucked in a lungful of boiling hot air. “Colby! I’m going to die under here!”
Laughter, that was far too feminine to be Colby, sounded in an echo around him.
Okay. Trace was so done.
He pushed against the plastic until he was once again in open air.
Katy and Regan stood in front of him—the drone once again above him, Katy at the controls. “I’m mapping the trails,” Katy said.
Strong legs peeked out from underneath running shorts.
“Yeah,” he croaked, his body shaking from exertion and heat.
“Sorry!” Colby called. “I wasn’t as ready for the poly as I thought!”
“Poly?”
“Plastic!” he hollered.
The world tilted, Trace stumbled, and instead of trying to stay upright, he slowly sat on the sand.
The sound of the drone cut off a second before Regan and Colby’s voices grew distant. The world blurred before going grey. Trace blinked and blinked, attempting to keep himself sitting upright.
Regan kneeled next to him and handed him some red sports drink. “Water won’t hydrate you the same way. Drink this.”
He g
ulped, not caring that the sticky liquid ran down his chest. Forget this. He set the drink aside and pulled off his T-shirt. “I’m taking the rest of the day off.”
“Wimp!” Colby called through his laughter.
Trace flipped him off as he took another long drink and then blinked to see Katy’s eyes on him. Not narrowed and angry but smiling and maybe a bit curious.
Well, that was definitely something to think on. The sickly sweet liquid rested on his tastebuds. “What flavor is this?”
Regan smirked. “Red.”
“Ha!”
“Why don’t you both head to the beach and wash the stink off,” Regan suggested. “Maybe we’ll boat to town and go out tonight.”
With how hard he’d worked that day, cereal in his bed might be preferable.
He stood, his muscles aching and protesting as he moved. “I’m gonna go for a swim.”
“I’ll join you,” Katy said as she started on the short trail to the beach.
Join him? Swimming?
He stared as she walked away—the straps of her swimsuit peeking out from under her tank top.
Colby smacked his shoulder. “You should probably start walking.”
Yeah. He probably should.
Chapter Six
Katy walked for the beach, the sound of the waves warring with Trace’s footsteps behind her. Curiosity. That’s the only motivation she could think of for inviting herself on his swim—although Regan’s suggestion was maybe enough of an invite. Trace was a strange mix of things she appreciated and abhorred, and he kept surprising her. There was always something to be learned from people who surprised her.
Walking on wall tops was no easy work. Hauling trusses was no easy work. Both these men could have hired that out, but they hadn’t. No one in her small circle of friends had grown up the way he had. The more she learned, the more she wanted to know.
“I saw the drone.” His arm brushed hers when he finally caught up. “You’ve been spying on us today.”