Chapter Seven
ELI
The pool waterwas crystal clear around us as I demonstrated buoyancy control, my arms out and my body remaining absolutely still. Jules watched intently, her eyes narrowed in concentration as she tried to mimic my movements. Her raven hair was coiled into a bun like usual, but underwater, it looked natural, not severe. The mask amplified her green eyes, making the various hues even more compelling. She really did have gorgeous eyes.
After several rounds of practice, I gave her the thumbs-up. We surfaced, and I couldn’t help but grin at the determined set of her jaw. “Not bad for a beginner. You’re getting the hang of it.”
“I think I understand now. What you meant about popping up like a cork if I add too much air to my BCD.”
“Exactly. It’s all about finding that sweet spot.” I winked, unable to resist a little flirtation. “Kind of like life, right?”
To my surprise, a smile tugged at the corners of hermouth. “I suppose so. Though I prefer my balance sheets to be precise not… sweet.”
I laughed, treading water easily. “Come on, Jules, admit it. You’re having fun breaking free from those spreadsheets.”
She rolled her eyes, but there was no real annoyance behind it. “I wouldn’t go that far. But it is oddly freeing.”
“That’s exactly what it is. You’re literally weightless. Let’s work on it some more.”
As she practiced the technique again, I found myself watching her with growing interest. There was something compelling about the way she approached each new challenge I threw at her—meticulous, focused, but with a sense of adventure I hadn’t expected from our by-the-book accountant. It was a different side from the driven, detail-oriented woman I’d known, but it suited her to learn a very unnatural skill. Most kids took to scuba naturally, but adults were another story. She was continually surprising me. And impressing me.
“I gotta say, you’re a natural,” I said when we resurfaced. “Must be all that number crunching giving you ninja-like precision.”
Jules splashed water in my direction, her eyes glinting. “Very funny. I’ll have you know there are plenty of things I’m good at.”
“Oh really?” A flood of images flashed through my mind. Images involving her and me doing things that had nothing to do with work. Or scuba diving. Yeah, I was definitely seeing her in a new light, but I didn’t want to push our newfound common ground too far. “Care to put that to the test? I bet I can hold my breath longer than you.”
“That’s hardly a fair competition,” Jules protested, but I could see the competitive glint in her eye. “You’re aprofessional diver. Suppose I challenged you to depreciate next quarter’s expenditures?”
I shrugged, grinning. “Scared, Verne?”
“Not even a little. I’m just keeping you sharp for your family dinner tonight.”
I frowned at the reminder of what I had coming up after our pool session. “A collection of Coleridges is absolutely a reason to stay sharp. I take it you’re not up to the breath-holding challenge?”
“You wish. You’re on.”
As we both took deep breaths, preparing to submerge, it occurred to me how things had changed between us. The razor-sharp accountant I’d first met was still there, but beneath that professional exterior lurked a woman full of surprises. And humor. And damn if that combination wasn’t becoming more appealing by the minute.
After our impromptu breath-holding contest—to her credit, Jules gave me a run for my money—I glanced at the brilliantly lit western horizon and reluctantly called an end to our practice.
“See you at the next classroom session?” I asked, hauling myself out of the pool. Water cascaded off my body as I offered Jules a hand up. She hesitated for a moment before taking it, her fingers warm against mine.
“I suppose I can pencil you in.” A definite smile played at her lips.
“Careful, Jules. That almost sounded like you enjoy my company.”
“Don’t let it go to your head. It’s a requirement, remember?”
As we gathered our gear, I found myself wanting to know more about my unexpected student. “You know, you’re picking this up really fast. Maybe we should celebrate your progress at Tropical Hops.”
Jules paused, towel in hand. “Are you asking me out, Eli?”
“What? No, I—” I backpedaled, suddenly aware of what I’d said. My mouth always ran away with me. It was a terrible habit. “Just a friendly offer. You know, instructor to student.”
“Mm-hmm,” she hummed, clearly unconvinced. “Noted. But don’t you have a dinner to get to?”
I groaned dramatically, grateful for the subject change. “Don’t remind me. We have two family activities once a month or so. The bonfires, which are a lot of fun, and the family dinners like tonight. Which are usually less boozy and more minding our manners at the table. I’d much rather stay here and get waterlogged.”
