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“That’s what I meant, simple slip of the tongue.” He eased onto the seat next to her, dressed in a navy-blue-and-white-striped Lacoste polo shirt and khaki pants. Heather set the drink in front of him and moved to the opposite corner of the bar. “You look lovely. Then again, I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you look less than lovely.”
Sara couldn’t help laughing. “Trust me, it happens all the time. You’d probably run away screaming.”
He held her gaze, a slight smile playing about his lips. “I seriously doubt that.”
His mouth was very kissable, and she wanted to know more about him. “Do you have some fancy penthouse apartment here at Serenity?”
“No, I live on my boat. I usually spend most of my time at sea, but have been on St. Croix for a while now.”
“Well, that’s different. Are you from a nautical family?”
He laughed, his brown eyes sparkling. “Hardly. I grew up outside Pittsburg. My father was a steel worker, and I vowed to do whatever it took to escape. I worked my ass off, took some risks, and here I am.”
“King of your own empire.”
“Not quite, but I’m working on it.” He eased slightly closer. “Do you realize we’ve met several times and I hardly know anything about you? Like what spa you work at? You’re the mysterious Sara, No Last Name.”
“Maybe I like being mysterious.” She swirled her wine, relaxing. “It’s Collins. I work at Half Moon Bay Resort.”
Something unreadable washed across his face, but it was covered so quickly by his usual confident, flirtatious manner she could have imagined it. “Ah. Lovely little resort. Very quaint. Do I recall that last name being similar to the owner’s?”
Sara tilted her head, exposing the side of her neck. “You’re well informed.”
He took a long look before returning his eyes to hers. “That’s my job.”
“Hope is my sister. But her last name isn’t Collins anymore. She got married a few months ago. Do you know Hope and Alex?”
“Not really. We only met in passing.” He took a quick sip of his gin and tonic. “I’ve seen their spa, though. It’s rather small. Are you sure I can’t interest you in an opportunity to get in on the ground floor of a truly impressive facility?”
She stared at him, and their gazes held. “As a manager?” The words escaped her mouth without conscious thought. “Or would an ownership share be available?”
A slow smile crept across Wayne’s face. “An ownership stake could definitely be available, depending on the amount of capital invested.”
Could I really do this? To Hope? Stalling, she took another sip of wine. “That’s intriguing, I must admit.”
“I’m in the process of narrowing my selections for the property. I’d love to show you the top candidate.”
Sara signed the room charge for her wine. “I’ll think about it.”
He whisked away the bill and tore it in half. “Don’t think too long. She who hesitates, loses, you know.”
CHAPTER 31
When Jack got home that evening, all he could think about was getting to the cove. The sunset was spectacular, and as he hurried down the narrow jungle path, he was desperate for something to distract him from his misery. The cove opened before him and he sank onto the sand, quickly opening his sketch book. His hand froze mid-air at the sight before him. The sky exploded in a show of crimson, bright orange, and lavender, and the ocean roared onto the strand before him.
He began to draw, and it didn’t take long before the familiar activity allowed his mind to wander. Memories of when he and Sara had been there came flooding back. They had been to the cove three times, and they’d made love on the deserted beach each time. A hollow, gaping ache filled him and he closed his eyes, gripping his charcoal pencil tightly.
Was breaking up the right thing to do? Am I any happier now?
He and Sara had formed a new normal. Not exactly friendly, but at least not hostile. For the first week, Alex had watched quietly. But Sara couldn’t have mentioned anything too derogatory, or Alex would’ve had plenty to say to him. That was one thing that had gone right, at least. But the sight of Sara flirting with that diver today had hit him hard.
Right in the gut.
Opening his eyes, he focused on the pad. The beach and cove were finished, and once again, a mermaid had taken shape, stretched out on the sand this time. A mermaid with Sara’s features. Jack squinted, but he was having trouble seeing the figure. Then he realized why and whipped his head up, shocked.
It was dark out.
A three-quarter-full moon provided ghostly illumination to the scene. His sketch was nearly finished except for Sara, who was the final missing piece. According to his subconscious, anyway. With a deep sigh, he closed the cover of the pad and slid his pencil into the spiral binding, tossing the sketch book carelessly on the sand. Jack drew his knees up and looped his arms over them, staring at the white stripe of moonlight on the ocean.
