by Amore, Dani
Oh my, he is easy on the eye, she thought.
“Good afternoon,” she said, and found it odd that she had chosen to sound so formal.
She felt his eyes on her and realized how she looked. She had put on tight micro shorts for her run, and a dri-fit tank. The ensemble left little to the imagination and she nearly blushed at how openly he was looking at her body.
“I’m here to loosen you up,” he said. “I mean, your windows,” he added with a small smile.
“Okay,” she said. “How long do you think it will take?” Justine realized that it wasn’t the perfect response to his comment and its double meaning.
“Probably a few hours,” he said. “I’ll let you know if I find any surprises.”
“I’ll be around,” she answered, and stepped aside as he walked past her. She watched him walked by, saw the muscles in his arms and he smelled of soap and after shave.
She checked out his body as he walked past.
Nice, she thought.
Justine slipped her key inside the hidden pocket in her running shorts, and took off for the beach.
She would run along the water and try not to think about Archer Thorpe and his muscular body, handsome face, gorgeous eyes and perfect smile.
Enough!
Justine turned south, and picked up her pace. She was absolutely NOT going to get involved with a man.
The only exercise she would be getting would be out here, running.
Not between the silk sheets of her bed and the arms of Archer Thorpe.
Stop!
She leaned in and ran picked up the pace again so she was almost sprinting.
While at the same time she understood there were some things you just couldn’t run away from.
9.
Loosen her up.
Nice going, Archer, he thought to himself.
He was here to do a job, nothing more, nothing less. He needed to focus, but there was just something about this Justine woman that made him want to engage her, and get beneath that defensive shell she was so clearly holding up.
But why was she getting to him?
It was pretty clear.
Archer shook his head. Who was he kidding? The woman was smoking hot, that’s why. Those tight little shorts and top had left nothing to the imagination. She had great legs and a gorgeous body. And she was stunningly beautiful.
He dropped the tube of caulk he was trying to insert into the caulk gun and laughed at himself.
That seemed to be the signal to his brain to set aside his lust and get busy with the task at hand. Which is what he did. The windows were structurally fine, but the framing needed to be replaced. Since the resort was somewhat modern, and it being Florida, the job didn’t take him very long. People in Florida had learned that it was a better idea to make things easily replaceable than to constantly battle erosion by making things ultra permanent. Once he had pried the old, warped sections away, he replaced them with prefinished pieces that matched and then installed new hardware.
Archer also went up to the second floor, and checked where he figured a window had leaked, causing the slight stain on the first floor ceiling. It was just as he expected, the caulking around the windows was in tatters. He went outside, got his ladder, stripped the old caulk and sealed the windows with fresh silicone.
This was a nice place, he thought to himself as he cleaned up his work area and gathered his equipment. He’d been here before of course, just once, when the place was pretty much abandoned. A friend had looked into staying there and asked Archer to check it out before he made a reservation. Archer had taken a quick look and advised his friend to stay elsewhere.
He wondered how Justine had wound up owning the place. There had always been rumors that the previous owner was some kind of shyster from the east coast, and that he’d been busted. Archer wondered if there was an interesting story behind how she’d come into possession of the place.
All of the other business owners on Passion Key were happy that the resort was in new hands. The goal was always to get people to stop and stay on Passion Key, as opposed to simply driving through. The longer people stayed, the more money they spent. Business 101.
Archer hoped Justine would make a go of the place. She seemed like a nice woman and if she could make the resort successful, it would be a good thing.
It would definitely be good for Passion Key.
And he wouldn’t mind seeing her running around in those shorts.
10.
At the three-mile mark, according to the running app on her phone, Justine had turned around and started the run back toward the resort. Now, she was less than an eighth of a mile from home. She smiled at the thought of her calling the resort home. But it was her home now, and she was happy about that.
She slowed to a walk, her chest heaving with the exertion, her body covered with sweat. Justine stopped for a second and slipped off her shoes and socks, and veered into the water.
That’s what she loved about Florida. Everything was made to live cleanly. The water was beautiful and cool on her legs and feet. The sand felt great on her toes.
Justine walked, letting the salt water massage her legs as her heartbeat gradually slowed and her breathing returned to normal. She reached down, scooped up some water and rubbed the sweat from her face, loving the taste of salt on her lips.
When she got back she would–
Something stabbed her in the thigh and she screamed, then lunged toward the shore as she simultaneously felt something slimy slide off her leg. She heaved out of the water and stood on the beach, pain burning her right thigh.
Jellyfish.
Of course! She’d heard of the damned things and how much they hurt. And boy, did this hurt!
She looked down at her leg and saw red marks around her thigh. They were already swelling and a couple of them were dripping blood. She felt chills as she saw the wounds and knew she had to get back to the resort as quickly as possible.
Justine tried to block out the pain as she raced up the beach, along the boardwalk and back to the resort’s office where she thought she had seen a first aid kit in one of the desk drawers. She slammed the door open, almost in tears.
And came face to face with Archer Thorpe.
“What’s wrong?” he said, setting down a screwdriver and a rag. He looked at her leg.
“I think–”
Justine suddenly felt stronger chills run up and down her body. She was lightheaded.
“Whoa,” he said, and caught her as she sagged against the wall.
“Easy,” Archer said as he scooped her into his arms. He carried her into the office area and set her on the couch.
He must have seen the wound on her leg because he said, “Looks like a jellyfish sting. Ouch.”
“It really hurts,” she said, hating how weak she sounded.
“I think there’s a first-aid kit in the desk,” she added.
There was a small kitchen off the office, and Archer went in there.
She couldn’t believe how the sting was affecting her. She wasn’t allergic to anything, she had been stung by bees two summers ago and nothing had happened.
Justine looked down at her leg and saw that the marks were red and angry. She heard rummaging in cupboards in the kitchen and then there was the sound of a faucet running.
Archer returned with a couple of bottles and a bowl.
“Had to wash my hands real quick,” he explained.
He used a clean rag and held it up against the first bottle, which Justine could smell, was vinegar. He dabbed the vinegar on her thigh and although it stung a little, and immediately afterward it felt numb, which was a major improvement.
Next, he dumped some baking soda into the bowl that already had some water in it, and he stirred it into a paste, then dabbed that on her stings.
She was surprised at how tender his touch was. He put a clean dish towel under her leg, went to the kitchen and returned with some Tylenol.
“Here take these, they�
��ll help.”
Justine took the pills and leaned her head back.
“I’m sorry about this,” she said. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your work.”
“Who said I was working?” he said and then laughed.
The moment of humor took her mind off the pain and she smiled.
“You’re not going to charge me for medical services are you?” she asked.
“No, I would rather you owed me one.”
His eyes seemed to dance in front of her and she wasn’t sure it was a hallucination from the stings. But she saw compassion in his eyes, too. And that something she definitely wasn’t used to from a man.
“The same thing happened to me last year up in the Panhandle,” he said. “Jellyfish stings are not any fun.”
He must have noticed the goose bumps on her arms because he grabbed a blanket from the end of the couch and draped it over her.
“Is there someone I can call?” he asked. “A husband? A boyfriend?”
She shook her head. “No.”
Already, she felt the chills begin to subside as the Tylenol kicked in.
“I’ll be fine,” she said. “Thank you for helping me.” She looked at him. “How is the project going?”
The attempt at strength sounded hollow to her, but she had been a victim too long. She was determined to be tough at all times.
He straightened up and she knew that he caught the tone of her voice.
“Pretty much done. Do you want me to call someone?”
There was an awkward silence.
“No, I’ll be okay. Thank you very much, though. I’m just going to rest for a few minutes and then I’ll be fine.”
“The baking soda will harden. You should try not to move for awhile. Eventually you can clean it off and then if it starts to hurt again just reapply a fresh batch of the stuff. It works wonders.”
She nodded.
“Just give me a shout if you need something, I’ll keep an ear out,” he said.
He left her there and she watched him walk out, and remembered the feeling of his hands on her body.
A girl could get used to that, she thought.
11.
Archer Thorpe was more than a little embarrassed.
What kind of man was he? A woman is in distress, stung by a jellyfish, and he’s getting aroused when he’s applying baking soda to her wounds?
What a creep!
But aroused he had been, no doubt about that. The moment he touched Justine, when he scooped her up into his arms, an electric current shot through his body, probably with the same amount of force the jellyfish had used on its victim.
And when he had put her on the couch and gone into the kitchen, he’d taken a moment to gather himself, to even splash a little cold water on his face while he was making the baking soda paste, and he was still reveling in the contact.
He shook his head as he packed up his tools and carried them out to his SUV.
The job was done, but he needed to check on his patient.
So he went back inside and poked his head into the office. Justine was on the couch with her eyes closed. She had pulled the blanket up, and he could see that the paste had managed to stay together.
Archer wasn’t sure what to do.
On a table near the door was a small notepad with a Passion Key Resort pen. He scratched out a quick note and set it on the couch next to Justine.
He looked at her face and was positively transfixed. She had a perfect jawline, a cute little nose and luscious lips. He so wanted to kiss her right then.
Instead, he backed out of the room, chastising himself for being such a typical male. The poor thing was going to wake up to a really sore leg and all he could think about was how hot she looked.
He got into his vehicle and drove to the shop, unloaded his gear, peeled off his clothes and slipped on a pair of swimming trunks. He grabbed the carbon fiber paddle hanging near the back door and slid a life vest onto his arm. At the back of the property was a sit-on kayak, fastened to a kayak rack with a security cable and padlock. He set down the paddle and life vest, dialed the combination for the padlock, opened it, and slid the security cable out from underneath the kayak. Then Archer hoisted the kayak onto his shoulder and carried it down to the dock. He set it on the dock, went back and retrieved his paddle, life vest and a fishing rod from the rod box underneath the rack.
Next, he set everything into the kayak, set it into the water, and then lowered himself onto it as waves pushed it back and forth beneath him.
He pushed himself away from the dock, turned directly into the wind, and dug into the paddling, setting his teeth on edge and paddling with strength, precision, and a blazing speed that he knew he could only keep up for a short time.
When he’d first come here, he’d done every kind of water sport. Fishing, jet skiing, power boating, sailing, kite boarding, and he loved all of them. But the kayak had become one of his most treasured companions.
As the water spit over the front of the vessel, he tasted the salt water on his lips, and relished the feel of the wind on his face. This is what Passion Key was all about.
Archer continued to push the kayak directly out to the sea. The swells became bigger and it always felt to him like you were riding a bucking horse that was going in slow motion. The rhythm was comforting to him, and he loved tearing into the water with the paddle, felt the burning of his arms, chest and shoulders, even his core as he ripped the kayak along.
Oh, he worked out frequently in traditional ways with weights, a treadmill or elliptical and jogging. But when it was combined in a way that let you do something you love, well, he could kayak every day, all day.
When he was at least a mile from shore, he made an abrupt turn, strapped the paddle into the nylon holder that pinned it lengthwise against the hull and freed his fishing pole from the rubber clips that held it in place.
He had on a deep diving lure that he essentially used to troll as he paddled as fast as he could. That way, he combined exercise, kayaking and fishing all into one. It was his favorite way to multitask.
He cast the lure out as far as it would go, put the butt of the fishing rod into the built-in rod holder, picked up his paddle, and started back toward Passion Key at an angle so he could draw out the trip a little longer. He also had a theory that baitfish rarely swam straight to and from shore.
With the sprint from shore now over, and his breathing back to somewhat normal levels, he pondered why he suddenly threw the kayak into the water and took off. It wasn’t uncommon for him.
But why today?
He knew the answer to that, too. He now freely admitted that he’d been surprised by how powerful his attraction was to Justine Beaudry. Frankly, he’d been hot and bothered and wanted to blow off the steam somehow and going for a quick kayak trip seemed a lot more enjoyable than a cold shower.
What was it about this woman? It wasn’t just her beauty. Beautiful women were a dime a dozen in the Keys. No, it was her honesty. Her honesty, combined with something that seemed either flawed or hidden.
He thought back to his sudden urge to kiss her.
Where had that come from?
Well, there was no doubt he had to keep that in check. Besides, he didn’t know diddly squat about the woman. She had just come down here, no one seemed to know much about her and everyone had been just as surprised as he had that the Passion Key Resort had a new owner nobody had even seen looking at the place.
The fact was, Passion Key was a small town. Just about everyone knew everyone. But still, it was Florida. And a lot of people who lived in Florida weren’t originally from the state, so there was always an influx of new people.
Perhaps that was simply what it was all about.
Justine Beaudry was gorgeous and mysterious.
Maybe that was why he couldn’t stop thinking about her.
Just then, his fishing pole bent in half and he heard the line start to fly off the reel with incredible speed.
He slid
his paddle onto the kayak, grabbed the rod and set the hook.
As he felt the fish struggle against the sudden feeling of being hooked, he smiled.
I know the feeling, buddy.
12.
The morning sun woke Justine slowly as it poured into the room via windows whose blinds she had forgotten to close.
Justine wasn’t about to blame herself, though. She’d taken more over the counter medicine for the effects of the jellyfish sting, along with a hot shower followed by icepacks for the swelling.
Luckily, she had found a spray can of lidocaine in the first aid kit, which also helped. Now, she woke and looked at her leg.
The area was still red, and only one wound from a stinger still stood out. Justine wasn’t about to let this slow her down, though. The jellyfish that had bitten her must have been small or young because when she had searched for home remedies for jellyfish stings on the Internet, she had seen some incredibly painful looking stings, nothing like hers.
So, she swung out of bed, took another shower, rubbed calamine lotion on the area, and got dressed.
A fresh cup of coffee, an egg white omelet and while she didn’t feel all together one hundred percent, she felt a whole lot better.
Justine put her dishes in the dishwasher, left her condo and walked up to the office.
Justine went to the windows that Archer had worked on, tested them and saw that they all operated smoothly. Plus, she hadn’t been awakened by any loud banging sounds. Justine made a mental note to check with her guests and make sure they hadn’t heard anything, either.
She was surprised to see that there was no sign that Archer had even been there working. She’d had some contractors work before in the house in Chicago and they tended to leave a mess after they left. Justine remembered complaining to a plumber. His response had been pretty clear.
“I make holes, I don’t fix ‘em,” he’d said.
That certainly wasn’t the case with Archer Thorpe. If anything, the places where he’d worked were cleaner than when he’d begun.