“Hey, hang on. I wasn’t trying to…” He let me go when I turned. “I just meant that I don’t want to step over a line I shouldn’t be stepping over. That’s all.”
“Of all the lines you could worry about, that’s the one you picked, huh?”
He gave me a sheepish grin. “I just need to keep this job, that’s all.”
“So why would you be worried about Zach Robinson?”
“Well…” His fingers slipped into mine, cautious. “I mean, his parents own the restaurant. And, you know, rich kids like getting what they want, when they want it. So if I was to, I don’t know, ask you out, I might be worried he’d try to get me fired.”
Heart racing, I tried not to let my nerves show. “My parents would never let that happen. That’s not how they run things.”
Carter lifted my hand, bringing it between us to rest on his chest. “So, is that a yes, then?”
Three in, six out.
I smiled up at him. “You haven’t asked me anything yet.”
“We’re both off Monday. Want to waste a day with me?”
He wanted a day? A whole day? With me? My head spun a little. “That sounds like a great waste of a day to me.”
When he lowered his head, I was sure he was going to kiss me, but, instead, his lips brushed my knuckles, and he grinned. “Then it’s a date.”
Grateful for the harsh orange streetlight to hide my blush, I sucked in a slow inhale and backed away, opening my car door. “Yeah. Monday.”
Carter winked at me as he released my hand. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow. Dinner shift?”
I shook my head. “Lunch, but I’ll see you.”
As I slid into the driver’s seat, I watched him wave and head back to the beach. Once he was out of sight, I started the car, giggling to myself. A date with a cute guy, and I got to put a bee in Zach’s bonnet? Maybe I should’ve bought a lottery ticket, too.
My good mood soured as I pulled up to my house. The lights inside were off, meaning my parents were already asleep, but the porch light was on, shining off the blond head of Zach Robinson.
Exhausted at seeing him there, I readied my pepper spray keychain and got out of the car.
“I swear I’ll make this quick. Just hear me out, okay?” He held up his hands, palms out.
I stopped in front of the step, pepper spray pointed at him. “Why are you a creepy stalker? What part of ‘leave me alone’ did you not understand?”
“I just want to warn you about Carter. That’s it.”
“Great. Thanks. Bye.”
He didn’t budge from in front of the door. “I’m serious, Margie. He’s not the nice guy you think he is. He’s worked on the island for four summers now, and when he’s not working, he spends his time sleeping with as many girls as possible. You deserve better than that.”
I shook the spray at him again. “I’m not looking for a boyfriend, Zach. And who I spend my time with is my business, not yours. Now leave.”
“But—”
“Now, or I scream for my parents.”
A long, frustrated sigh dragged out of his lungs and he stomped off the step. “Fine, but I did warn you. Ask Destiny if you don’t believe me.”
Not giving him the satisfaction of a response, I watched him leave, waiting until I was sure he was gone before I unlocked the front door and went inside. After showering and laying out my clothes for the next day, a long black skirt and my backup white blouse, I crawled into bed with my phone, debating on texting Destiny. As much as I tried to ignore it, Zach’s warning haunted me. While I certainly wasn’t looking for a boyfriend in the few weeks remaining before I left for Paris, I definitely didn’t want to become a meaningless notch in someone’s belt, either. Maybe canceling the date was the smart thing to do. After all, there wasn’t much point in getting attached to someone I’d be leaving behind, regardless of his intentions. Besides, Destiny might not think her first time was that important, but for me, that came with a whole boatload of other issues.
As it was already after one in the morning, I set the phone aside. I could talk to her about it later.
* * * * *
It was impossible to keep from grinning any time I was in the kitchen. It carried over into my entire hostess shift on Thursday, and only got worse when Carter showed up for his dinner hours. I worked an extra hour at prep with him before my father finally shooed me out the door. Apparently my uncontrollable giggles were throwing off his cooking. I was admittedly ridiculous, but couldn’t do a thing about it.
I’d forgotten all about Zach’s warning by Friday, and pulling double shifts as prep cook and hostess all weekend ensured I was exhausted when I got home at night.
Every day I found carrot flowers on my car, some days there were more than others, but they all had numbered tags on them. I stopped looking at the numbers after eleven, throwing them straight in the trash whenever I saw them. Whatever game Zach was playing, I wasn’t buying in, even if the carvings were getting more and more intricate and impressive.
Sunday night, I flopped back on my bed, about to roll over and fall asleep, when a text message came in.
Plans tomorrow night?
At the reminder of what Monday held, I grinned to myself and shot back a reply to Destiny.
All booked up. Sorry. Got a date.
My phone buzzed almost immediately.
With who???
A guy I work with. Not a big deal. Just hanging out.
The hot bartender with the light eyes?
I giggled. Jamal was so far out of my league it wasn’t even funny.
No. A prep cook. He’s older, but really nice.
My smile faded as my phone immediately rang.
“Hello?”
“Oh my God, tell me it’s not Carter.”
Zach’s warning came roaring back at that moment. “What? Why?”
“Carter Alexi is a gross human being. He’s slept with more people than Avery, Matt, and Lance combined. When the rich girls go slumming, he’s who they do it with. You’re not seriously going out with him, are you?”
I bit my lip, more than a little nervous. “We’re supposed to hang out all day tomorrow.”
“You gotta cancel.”
“What? No way. You think I’d just sleep with him after one date?”
She sighed. “Carter’s really good at changing people’s minds, Margie. Don’t get sucked into him.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not getting sucked into anything, Des. Remember Paris? Yeah. I’m not looking for a boyfriend.”
“But a sleazebag is okay?”
“We’re just hanging out. It’s not like that. Besides which, he flat out told me he was worried about losing his job. I don’t think he’d risk his income for a piece of tail.”
She paused for so long, I had to look at the phone to make sure she hadn’t hung up. “Des?”
“Keep my number at the ready tomorrow, okay? I want updates.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Just promise to check in. There’s a party tomorrow, but I’ll come get you if you need me to.”
While it was a little annoying for her to be such a pest about it, I wasn’t going to complain that she cared so much. “Okay. I’ll check in a few times when I get a minute, okay? But I don’t know what we’re doing, so no set times. He mentioned seeing a movie or something, but we might mess around in Galloway instead of on the island.”
“You’re sure about this?”
“Yes.”
“Add me on that phone tracker app, and I’ll be satisfied.”
I laughed. “So you can stalk me like Zach? Oh my God, I forgot to tell you. He was totally waiting outside my house Wednesday night because he knew I was out with Carter. How creepy is that?”
“Did he say anything to you?”
“Just to stay away from Carter, but like I’m gonna listen to a damn thing he says.”
“In this case, I’m going to have to side with Zach,” she grumbled. “Do you have any idea how
painful that is for me?”
“Aw, poor thing. So much suffering.” I laughed.
“I’m sending you a friend request on that app. Accept and I promise not to text you every five minutes.”
“Fine,” I said, relenting. “But I promise I’ll be okay.”
“It’s him I don’t trust. Talk tomorrow?”
“At some point, yes.”
“Okay. Night, Margie.”
As soon as we hung up, my phone buzzed with the incoming request from the phone tracker app. I accepted it immediately, figuring it was better than enduring her texts all day. And despite my confidence in not needing a virtual chaperone, it was nice to know that if something did happen, Des could find me no matter where I was.
Completely exhausted, I plugged in my phone and rolled over. I fell asleep smiling to myself.
* * * * *
Carmel corn. Salt water taffy. Cheap hot dogs. All the makings of a perfect day on the boardwalk in Galloway. Carter picked me up at lunch and drove us to the beach. We met up with a few of his friends there, one or two I recognized from Wednesday night, and we spent the day on the shore, talking, laughing, and doing absolutely nothing of consequence.
It was amazing.
I caught him staring at me a few times, but he’d never look away when I busted him. Instead, he’d shoot me this crazy, sexy smirk, then lean in and whisper something to me.
“Did you know you have the most beautiful laugh?”
“When you smile like that, you can see this little dimple by your mouth.”
“When the sun hits your hair just right, you look like you’re on fire.”
The last time I caught him, the sun was going down. His friends were either digging a little pit in the sand or rounding up firewood. I made a joke about how they must’ve seen me as such a kid, but when I looked at him, laughing at myself, the air stuck in my throat as he took my face in the palm of his hand. Carter leaned in close, the barest hint of beer on his breath, but less apparent than the scent of cocoa butter clinging to our skin.
“I don’t see you that way at all, Margie.”
As a breeze came off the ocean, he kissed me, gentle, but perfectly confident. His lips knew exactly what they wanted, and it was easy to return. But kissing Carter was totally different than kissing Zach. There were no doubts about Carter, no endless questions ringing in my ears. I wasn’t some moral test for him. There was no history. No scars. No nightmares. What he wanted from me was much simpler, much easier to give.
But… at the same time, it wasn’t entirely what I’d expected it to be. It was nice, but I didn’t feel breathless, frustrated, terrified, exhilarated…
Still, even if it was only for that day, at least he hadn’t thrown me to the mercy of my bloodthirsty enemies.
When he pulled away, my eyes opened slowly, and I smiled at him.
“What’s with the grin?” He touched my nose, chuckling.
“Just thinking,” I said.
“Thinking?” He sighed heavily. “Then I totally did that wrong.”
I pushed him a little. “I’m not making a grocery list or anything, geez.”
He propped himself up on an arm and brushed the hair from my face. “Then what were you thinking about?”
“About you.” I scrunched up my face at him. “I was warned about you, you know.”
His hand dropped away, his posture stiffening. “Warned about me?”
“Yep. I was told you’re totally no good, and I should definitely not spend the day with you.”
“But here you are.”
“Here I am.”
His expression relaxed back into a smirk. “Why are you here if I’m so terrible?”
“Because in August I’m getting on a plane with no intentions of coming back here.”
“Ever?”
I shrugged. “Maybe to see my parents, but that would be super rare.”
He opened his mouth to say something, but his expression shifted back into a frown again. Stretching out on my side, I studied him. “You look unhappy.”
“I was just thinking, that’s all.”
“I’m not out thrill-seeking or anything, just to be clear. That’s not why I’m here.”
His dark brows drew down over his eyes. “Then why?”
“You made me laugh.” I said, sheepish. “If you’ve ever had a panic attack or chronic anxiety, you would totally understand why I agreed to come out with you today. Being on guard about everything and anything on the island is exhausting. That, and sometimes it feels good to do the opposite of what other people tell you to do.”
He reached over and twirled a lock of my hair between his fingers, watching the sunset infuse the highlights with reds and golds. “It was nice to see you laughing on Wednesday. You always look so serious and focused. You surprised me.”
“I have my issues,” I said with a small smile. “But I’m not really that serious, am I?”
“Not as bad as Chef Antoine, but close.”
I went to punch his shoulder, but he grabbed my wrist and pulled me down, laughing as I landed on his chest.
“Thanks, Margie,” he said as I looked down into his eyes.
“For what?”
“Letting me see this side of you. I can guess at what you were told about me, but you still decided maybe I was worth the trouble. Most people don’t.”
“Am I going to regret it?”
“What do you think?”
I crossed my arms on his chest and rested my chin there, staring up at him. “That’s really up to you, I guess. I spent years learning that the only opinions about me that really matter are mine and the people I care about. The rest of the world can screw off.”
He burst out laughing and wrapped his arms around me, kissing the top of my head. “That was maybe the most adorable foul-mouthed sentence I’ve ever heard.”
“I wasn’t really going for adorable, but okay,” I mumbled against his embrace.
“Are you two gonna help with this or what?” one of Carter’s friends called from where they were setting up the fire pit.
We sat up and grinned at each other, and I felt a definite shift in our relationship. Whatever had changed, I knew it wasn’t something that needed to be said. We were suddenly friends, and I realized I was okay with that. As Carter helped me to my feet, I knew there was no way I’d be able to explain it to Des.
Carter’s steps were lighter after that, his laughter more genuine. And when he tossed me into the ocean later that night, I only punched him a little bit for it.
Right before I ground wet sand into his hair.
Chapter 17
Twelve carrot flowers.
An entire dozen greeted me on the hood of my car Tuesday morning, the tension I’d forgotten the day before creeping back up on me at the sight of them.
Exactly how much time did he spend making those things, anyway? Would he stop if he knew I tossed them straight in the trash every time? I flipped the tag tied around the entire bouquet. Thirty-nine through fifty-one. I stomped over to the garbage can and lifted the lid, pausing for a moment to appreciate the carving. The ones that day were pretty rose buds, skewered in a bunch with wooden shish kabob sticks. It was sad and frustrating how much time he was wasting on them. I hoped he was investing as much effort in learning other prep work. Especially if my mom didn’t hire another hostess soon, he was going to have to start taking some of the shifts I was splitting with Carter, as Max was already full up for hours. And with me leaving for good in August…
A sudden wave of nervous excitement came over me as I got into my car. Paris. I was going to Paris for at least four years. Was I ready? Had I prepared as much as I possibly could? Would I get there and forget all of the French I’d learned? The questions haunted me all the way to Le Beau Tournée. As I was getting out of the car, my phone vibrated in my pocket, and I jumped, dropping my keys.
“Crap. Hello?” I said into the phone.
There was laughter on the other end. “Well, tha
t’s a fine greeting for your BFF.”
“Hey, Ang. Sorry. Dropped my keys. What’s up?” I snatched them up off the ground, hit the lock button, and jogged to the rear entrance of the restaurant.
“You already made our hostel reservations for August, right?”
After punching in the security code, I headed inside. “Yeah, months ago, why?”
“Remind me of the dates.”
I sighed. Of course she would need the reminder. She never wrote anything down. “I emailed you the reservation info. Can’t you just pull it up from there?”
“My account got hacked and some asshat deleted everything in there. Can you believe it? Everything! Ugh.”
I chuckled and shook my head, grabbing an apron off the wall. “August tenth through the fourteenth. Did you get your train ticket already?”
“That’s why I needed the dates.”
“You certainly like doing stuff at the last minute. What about Nadine and Charlie. They’re still coming, right?”
“It’s going to be tight, but, yeah, they’re still coming. I’m supposed to book the train for all of us today. What’s the hostel name in case we get there before you?”
“Uh…” I looked up at the ceiling, thinking. “The New York Loft Hostel. Make sure you have the thirty bucks for the unlimited Metro Pass, too, okay? I don’t want to be stuck walking the entire length of NYC because you forgot to budget for it.”
“Oh ye of little faith.”
“Is that all you need? My shift’s about to start so I gotta go.”
“Yep. Thanks, Margie!”
“No problem. Talk to you soon.”
I hung up and shoved my phone back in my pocket, hurriedly tying the apron around my waist. But as I turned to the prep station, I froze completely. An entire stockpot of potatoes were peeled, five tubs of vegetables had been sliced, and three containers of stock reduction sat neatly on the counter, all ready to go for the lunch shift.
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