“Reckon it’d be a bonny day fer snerklin. Down Tartle Carve way. Sure as me name is…”
“Jean-Colleen,” Lillibet filled in when the other woman trailed off. Though that was by far the least mysterious part of her statement.
“Aye.” It sounded a little Popeye, squint and all. “Shake the lead out, mates. We leave in five.”
It turned out they were going snorkeling, at a place called Turtle Cove. When Jefferson admitted he didn’t travel with flippers or a mask, the housekeeper assured him he could rent whatever he needed. The second Hildy slid into the backseat beside him, Lillibet threw her husband’s luxury SUV into reverse.
“Sorry,” Hildy said, apologizing for the two extra minutes it had taken her to put on a bathing suit and pack her beach bag. “I couldn’t find my invisibility hat. So we don’t get papped,” she explained, when Lillibet sent her a wide-eyed look in the rearview mirror. Hildy held up a blue baseball cap with a faded smiley face logo. “Even if we weren’t keeping this story on lock for our properties, I don’t do unstaged candids.”
“Perish the thought,” Jefferson said under his breath.
Hildy whacked him with the hat. “I brought something for you, too. Even though you don’t need a disguise because no one’s going to recognize you unless you put on a snowsuit and carry me across the sand.”
“No,” he said, preemptively.
“‘Meme, Myself, and I—That Time I Accidentally Went Viral.’ The Jefferson Jones story.” Hildy held up a finger to signal a new idea incoming. “‘A Hero Comes Along.’ Too on-the-nose? I’ll have to make sure there isn’t a porno with that title. And Mariah Carey is a little out there for you emotionally, JJ. In the sense that she expresses them. I’ll save that one for me.”
Jefferson waited to see if the merry-go-round was going to pick up speed, but with a self-conscious glance at Lillibet, Hildy broke off, running her hand up and down the strap of her seat belt. “Enough of that. It’s hard to shut off the packaging part of my brain. It’s so ingrained. Which is why I’m going to be a boss bitch editor. But we are not talking about that right now, because we are in the moment. Let’s go see some fishies!”
Jefferson had never considered underwater photography, there not being much call for it in the mountains. A different quiet held sway when your face was submerged, both like and unlike being alone in the woods. A slow current instead of wind, the undulating of marine plants, fish flashing past in bursts of brilliant color that put the earthy camouflage of four-legged creatures to shame.
If he thought of himself as an observer, hovering over the aquatic metropolis, Jefferson could forget what he was wearing. Hildy had waited until they were at the beach to hand him the rash guard. At that point there was no going back; they’d spent half an hour driving a handful of miles on the two-lane road, because even the rich had to contend with the traffic of too many people trying to enjoy the same small patch of impossibly beautiful island.
It hadn’t always been this crowded, Lillibet explained from the driver’s seat, while her housekeeper napped against the passenger window. At least not when she was a kid, out here away from the tourist hot spots of Waikiki. Jefferson added that piece of information to the rough mental sketch he’d been drawing of her background, while she went on to explain how locals were caught between needing the influx of cash from all those visitors and wondering at what point they would hit critical mass.
“Only room for so many on this floating door,” the housekeeper, whom Hildy had taken to calling Mrs. OMG, said through a yawn. “Someone’s got to be thrown into the deeps or we’re all goin’ down.”
Jefferson had been here less than a day and could already see why so many people were desperate to visit—and, having come once, would dream of returning. That was one thing you could say for his part of the world: It didn’t appeal to everyone. Especiallyin winter, which could mean anytime from October to June. If you wanted bare skin, warm breezes, and outdoor swimming, it was easy to resist the siren call of Wyoming.
Nor did you need special beachwear to live there, which was how he’d wound up at the mercy of Hildy’s twisted sense of men’s fashion.
“Fit check,” she’d announced, circling a finger to get him to turn around after he squeezed himself into the long-sleeved shirt. “Oh. Oh my.” She pressed a hand to her mouth, as if overcome with some strong emotion. (Jefferson suspected it was joy.) “It’s even better than I thought it would be.”
He looked down at the patterned faux-gold, giving way at the elbows to swirling turquoise… gloves? “What the hell am I wearing, Hildegarde?”
“You’re Aquaman.” She poked him in the belly, where a series of shadowy curves suggested an overdeveloped chest. “SPF50andI gave you a six-pack, Grandpa. You’re welcome.”
Hildy had tried to convince him to put on the matching leggings, but he was wise to her game and used sunscreen everywhere his swim trunks didn’t cover. The fish didn’t care that he was dressed like an overgrown child on Halloween, but Jefferson wasted no time peeling off the superhero swim shirt as soon as they were on dry land.
“You better lube yourself up if you’re going to run around topless.” Hildy pulled a tube of sunscreen from her bag and tossed it at him. “I’d help, but my hands are sandy, so I might take off all your chest hair. Your first foray into manscaping should probably be in a more hygienic setting.”
“I’ll manage.”
“What about your back?” She turned to Lillibet. “Would you mind? I don’t want him to fry. You can teach him your special technique. The Wagyu massage. The relaxation helps with absorption,” Hildy explained for Jefferson’s benefit.Enjoy,she mouthed.
Lillibet hesitated before holding out her hand. Jefferson passed her the sunscreen with equal reluctance. Mostly reluctance.
She started at the top of his spine, stroking up the nape of his neck before letting her fingers trail down over his shoulder blades. What began as a light touch grew firmer as she rubbed the sunscreen into his skin, working it over his deltoids and then lower, her fingers slipping between his arm and his side to make sure everything was covered. Jefferson’s body desperately wanted to lean into her touch, so he tensed his muscles to keep from giving in. Hopefully she didn’t think he was flexing to impress her.
“How is it?” Hildy asked. “Soothing?”
What was a word that meant the opposite of that? His brain was too scrambled to play thesaurus. Jefferson had one clear thought, and it wasn’t something he could say out loud.I wish I had more skin so she would never stop touching me.
“Bloody hell,” growled the housekeeper, standing up from her towel. “Give me that.”
“I’m almost finished,” Lillibet said, holding the sunscreen out of reach.
“It’s me job,” the housekeeper argued.
