Chapter Nine
JULES
I turned to Eli,mortification warring with a secret thrill as I smoothed my decidedly messy hair. “I’m sorry about her. She’s not known for her acting.”
Eli laughed, his eyes crinkling and that damn dimple showing up again. “No need to apologize. She’s right, though. I’m not sure I want to leave you by yourself. Want some company?”
My heart did a little flip. “Well, I guess it’d be a shame to waste the night. Want to grab another drink?”
“Thought you’d never ask.” Eli shot me a lazy smile that made my lungs freeze mid-breath, then led the way to the bar. As we parked ourselves on two stools, the atmosphere buzzed again with laughter and upbeat music. The bartender, a tattooed guy with an infectious smile, greeted Eli like an old friend and poured us two cold drafts without needing to ask.
“Here you go.” He slid the frosty mugs our way. “On the house for the hero of the night.”
Eli inclined his head, lifting his glass in a mock salute. “Guess I should come in here more often if this is how I get treated.” Turning to me, he clinked his glass to mine and leaned closer. “By the way, I’ve got some good news on the work front. The new dive computers came in today.”
“That’s good. Are you happy with them?”
He nodded. “They’ll be perfect for what we need. And you guys might even be the first to use them, in the final pool session.”
I grinned back at him, unsure if the buzz had anything to do with the alcohol. “Then I’m grateful that you’ve given me this honor.”
“Only the best for Ms. Jules Verne.”
As we sipped our beers, the conversation flowed surprisingly easily. We talked about everything from our favorite spots on Dove Key to what he used to get up to in high school. Unsurprisingly, he spent a lot of time getting in trouble. I found myself laughing comfortably at his stories. And very aware that we were interacting on a completely new level. Our old animosity was ancient history right now.
The night air was balmy when we left Salty’s, a gentle breeze providing the perfect cooling touch. The bar occupied a prime lot on the primary corner of town, and it had always been a bit of a mystery why the place had never been spruced up. Eli and I fell into step as we walked beneath the ornate lampposts of Main Street, their riotous flower baskets lit softly.
“So,” Eli said, breaking the comfortable silence. “You mentioned earlier that you’re not usually a dive bar kind of girl, thank God. What’s your usual scene?”
I laughed, a bit self-consciously. “Lacey and I usually go to Conch Republic, where you saw us several weeks ago.But honestly? Most nights, you’d find me curled up with a good book and a glass of wine. Thrilling, I know.”
“Hey, no judgment here.” Eli held up his hands. “Sometimes a quiet night is exactly what a person needs.”
Something in his tone made me glance over. His easy smile was there, but his eyes held a hint of… something. Weariness? Longing?
Before I could stop myself, I asked, “Is that what you need? A quiet night?”
Eli’s steps faltered for a moment. “Sometimes,” he admitted. “I felt like a little solitude tonight, which is why I went to Salty’s. I’m not as well known there.”
“Guess you didn’t get much solitude.”
He laughed, that relaxed, easy sound. “That place can get a little rough. I’m glad I was there.”
“Me too, Eli. Even if it wasn’t what either of us planned on.”
He pressed a hand against his chest. “Don’t get me wrong, I love the whole beach bum lifestyle. Though being a dive instructor is a lot more work than people think. But occasionally… I don’t know. It can feel a bit hollow.”
I couldn’t resist looking up at him. Seeing how the moonlight painted his face in shades of silver and shadow as we walked along the sidewalk, transforming the carefree dive guy I thought I knew into someone different. My gaze traced the sharp angle of his jaw, the relaxed set of his broad shoulders. There was a quiet strength there I’d never noticed before, an intriguing depth beneath his easygoing exterior.
I quickly looked away when Eli darted a glance at me. “Can I ask you about something?”
My heart did this strange little flippy thing. “Sure.”
“Harper mentioned you gave up a new desktop youneeded so Annie could keep her hours.” His voice was gentle, probing.
I stiffened, surprised he knew about that. “It was nothing,” I said quickly, adopting my best no-nonsense tone. “Just a simple reallocation of resources. Annie’s ability to pay her bills took precedence over updating my hardware. Basic cost-benefit analysis.”
Eli’s eyebrows rose slightly. “You could have let Harper handle it. You didn’t have to get involved.”
