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“Wow. At least some good came from such an awful experience.” Jack almost flinched at the triteness of his words, but Dexter didn’t react.
“And that’s a fact. Since this land was too thick to farm, my family made their livin’ from the sea.” He paused, looking back toward the resort before holding out a gnarled index finger. “See that bungalow down there? The one closest to us?”
Jack nodded.
“My family had a proper house in the jungle, but we used to have a beach hut there. Real primitive. All handmade with a thatch roof. But I practically grew up in that thing. Loved it there.”
Jack studied the resort, trying to picture it as a pure stretch of beach with no improvements except the rickety shack. It was a beautiful image. “How did the resort get there?”
Dexter sighed and returned to his painting of a frigate bird. “Damn government, that’s how. The property taxes were killin’ us. My daddy finally sold off most of the land in the 1990s to the couple who built the resort. But they did a good job of it. Kept it family-run and friendly. From what I heard, the woman who got it from them has the same philosophy.”
“And it’s still family run. She just married the dive manager.”
Dexter laughed, a dry, raspy sound, and slapped his leg. “Well, that’s all right, then. I’m tryin’ to hang on to this little parcel, but I’m gettin’ on in years. Every once in a while, somebody offers me a princely sum for it. That nice lady who owns Half Moon Bay Resort was one of them.” He sighed and dabbed a line of black over the bird’s back. “Someday, I probably should take one of them up on it. But not quite yet, I don’t think.”
The two men returned to their projects in companionable silence, and Jack’s newly complicated love life faded to the back of his mind. God knew he could have worse problems.
CHAPTER 15
Sara hung up the spa phone. Her final client of the morning had a headache and had rescheduled for the following day. Probably a hangover...
Smiling to herself, she danced down the stairs. I certainly don’t have a headache this morning. In fact, she was on cloud nine. Her night with Jack had been a very pleasant surprise—one she wanted to repeat soon. Both of them had been caught up after the drama of her swim, and his cautious questioning of her that morning had been beyond sweet. Making love had been amazing. Especially how comfortable she’d been with him. He was just what she needed—a breath of fresh air.
She opened the dive shop door where Hope was speaking with a guest. “We can probably set up an Intro class tomorrow afternoon for you,” she said to the man. “But the pool is already booked this afternoon.”
Sara strolled around the bright, clean shop, inspecting masks and resort T-shirts as she hummed a song. Hope scheduled the guest and he left, the bell above the door softly jingling. Holding the shirt up to the light, Sara tried to catch different angles of the pattern, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
Hope laughed from behind the counter. “What has gotten into you? You’re practically floating on air.”
She froze. Oops. It’s that obvious? “Nothing in particular. Just the effects of living in paradise.” Breezing over to a row of fins, she peered closely. Who knew there were so many different styles?
“Oh please. You don’t fool me for a second. Dish, Sara. What’s up?”
She sent Hope a sidelong glance, then fully turned toward her and strolled up to the counter. “Fine. If you must know, Jack and I got to know each other a little better last night. Well, a lot better.”
“What?”
Sara giggled. “He was helping me with my swimming, and we got a little carried away.”
“I thought you hated him.”
“Mmm, not so much anymore.” Then Sara sighed, dropping the coy act. “We’ve been getting along for a while now. He’s not the jerk I thought he was at first.”
Hope rested her elbow on the counter, propping her chin on her open palm. “No, he’s not, and I’m glad you finally figured that out. But now I get to grill you! How was it? Hopefully not a D!” She laughed.
“Oh, no.” Sara cocked her head, a flush coming over her. When she and Marissa had been younger, they had talked for hours about their love lives. Until Marissa met her husband. Then she had clammed up, much to Sara’s disappointment. So she was surprised at her own reluctance to answer Hope’s question. “It was great. Can we retire the letter-grade system? It seems a little immature now.” Then she parked a hand on one hip. “And why are you so interested, Mrs. Deliriously Happy?”
The dive boat could be heard returning as Hope waved a careless hand at her. She straightened and came around the counter. “Consider it retired. But Alex and I are an old married couple now. I have to live vicariously through you.” Her ears were bright pink.
Hope was a terrible liar, and Sara couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Uh-huh. Sure.”
Hope leaned back against the counter as Sara resumed her window shopping, checking out wetsuits. She’d never worn one.
“Are you ready for your first pool session?”
An uneasy flutter ran through Sara’s stomach. “As I’ll ever be, I guess.”
“Chill out. Alex is very good at what he does, you know.”
