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“Okay, Mr. Picky, how about Siren’s Song?” Luke grinned, waggling his eyebrows.
“That sounds like a romance novel.” I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Isn’t that your current situation, though?” he teased, and I shot him a mock glare.
“Very funny.” I cast my gaze around, looking for inspiration. I caught sight of an old photo tucked behind a toolbox, the edges worn—Dad teaching me to tie knots, a proud smile on his face. Before life became so complex.
“All right, your turn then. What names are swirling around in that head of yours?” Luke crossed one ankle over the other, watching me with the kind of patience only an old friend could muster.
“Nothing’s sticking.” I ran a hand through my hair, the salt from the sea air leaving it coarse. “Everything I think of just seems off.”
“Naming a boat is like capturing a piece of the ocean, Aiden. It’s vast, mysterious, all-encompassing.” His gaze drifted toward the dock where light from an exterior spotlight danced on the water’s surface.
“Thanks, that doesn’t put any pressure on at all,” I replied dryly.
“Hey, I’m just saying it’s got to feel right. Like”—Luke paused, searching for the words—“like coming home.”
“Yeah, that about sums it up.”
“Or you know, just name it Boaty McBoatface and call it a day.” Luke laughed, nudging me with his elbow. I joined his laughter, and we clinked our cans together.
As the evening wore on, the list of rejected names grew longer, our brainstorming devolving into absurdity as the beer flowed and the moon climbed higher. But beneath the jokes and jibes, there was an undercurrent of frustration—a longing to find that perfect fit that remained elusive.
“Guess it’s not happening tonight,” I said finally, tossing my empty can into the trash.
After adding his own, Luke said good night and hopped to the dock with a wave. I watched him fade into the night, unable to shake the feeling that the name for my boat matched the status of my relationship with Stella.
Completely unknown.
And that was frustrating as hell.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Stella
I stood before my open closet, sifting through a sea of fabric, searching for the perfect dress that whispered romance under the tropical sky. The one I chose was a coral number, its hue rivaling the most vibrant reef fish that darted beneath the waves surrounding Calypso Key.
With careful movements, I slipped into the dress, enjoying how the fabric clung to my body. Tonight, Aiden and I would sit under the August stars at an outdoor play in Key West, and I was amazed he’d been able to procure tickets. My pulse quickened at the thought of him sitting next to me in the dark.
A final glance in the mirror, and I was satisfied. My earrings, a simple pair of silver drops, were the last touch. They were as ready to catch the moonlight as I was to see Aiden again. We hadn’t been together in nearly a week, and I had a feeling this special date was his way of gently prodding me to be more available.
And I felt a pang at that. I didn’t mean to be distant, but this summer had been unusually busy at the resort, thanks to a quiet hurricane season. Without thinking, I reached down and knocked on my dresser top. As much as I enjoyed being with him, I refused to apologize for wanting to succeed at Orchid. And I was—my early misgivings and fears had slowly given way to confident assurance. With a sigh, I smoothed my hair as I examined the pains I’d taken to look good tonight. Maybe I did need to make more of an effort.
My phone’s sudden ring split the air, jarring against the evening’s anticipation. Luis’s name flashed across the screen, accompanied by the accompanying photo of him in his black sous-chef uniform, his dark eyes glinting with mischief. I lifted the phone to my ear.
“Stella”—Luis’s voice was tense—“you need to come down here. Now.”
“What’s wrong?” I tried to keep the worry from my voice. I’d taken tonight off partly to let him shine, and he knew how much I needed this break.
“Health inspector,” he practically hissed, each syllable laced with urgency. “She’s here, going through everything with a fine-tooth comb.”
I nearly dropped the phone. “What? Now?”
“I know! I can’t believe she came in the evening, after her usual hours.” His voice was tinged with panic. Of all nights, it had to be tonight. I could feel the romantic bubble of the evening pop.
“Okay, okay. Keep everything running smoothly and show her whatever she wants. I’ll be right there.” I ended the call, the phone feeling like a lead weight in my hand.
I stared at my reflection, the woman in the coral dress a stark contrast to the one bracing for battle. My mind raced as adrenaline coursed through me. I swapped heels for flats, practicality taking precedence over style.
