Page 2 of Sand in My Boots

The building before me is casual but elegant, reminiscent of a grand seaside mansion surrounded on both sides by four-story buildings. The exterior combines upscale finishes of brick and other stones.

“Pretty place, this one. You go to wedding?”

“Yeah, a friend is getting married later this week. I’ve only seen pictures, but man, they do not do it justice.” The ambience oozes wealth but in the Southern’s welcoming way. It’s a dichotomy in parallels.

The car pulls up to the porte cochere, rounding the big circular entryway at a slow pace. Much slower than the rest of the ride. It’s like the driver knows what the rules are here without being told. Or maybe he’s been here before and knows the rules.

Does it matter, Juli? You have more pressing matters at hand than to worry about a driver you’ll never see again.

The car parked and idling, the driver—maybe I should have at least asked his name—hops out. The opening of the trunk sounds behind me, but my vision is too busy focusing on the attraction in front of me.

What’s odd is it’s not like I haven’t traveled to places like this before. We did, when I was a kid. Then, I certainly didn’t appreciate the value or the splendor of a resort like this. But clearly Preston did. No way can you own a place this impressive without good taste.

“Wow.” The word slips out as my door opens. Again, the warm air surrounds me, but it’s not stifling here. Almost as if it wouldn’t dare to upset the guests.

On the sidewalk, my attention draws to Erica exiting through the front doors of the resort. Her left hand drops from her fiancé’s and her pace picks up.

“Juli! You made it. Just in time for lunch. Come on.” Her feet stop six feet away from me, and she motions me forward, her fiancé, Jonah, standing off to the side behind her.

“I’ll take my leave now. Please enjoy your stay.” The driver scoots away, his door slamming, the engine revving before I realize I didn’t tip him.

“Wait,” I call out. “A tip.”

Erica grabs the handle of my rolling suitcase. “Taken care of. How was your flight?”

The town car putters out of the driveway slowly, and I shift my gaze back to my friend. “Fine. Bumpy. Glad it’s over.” Erica wastes no time wrapping me up in a hug, her signature floral and citrus scent from Chanel Coco Mademoiselle perfume wafting around us.

“I’m so glad you’re here a few days early. We’re going to have so much fun this week.”

I don’t want to rain on her parade, but I’m not sure how much time we’ll be spending together. She’ll be busy with wedding things, and I’ve got plans to sit by the pool, mai tai in hand, and do nothing but read while working on my tan.

And tracking down my brother for at least one meal.

“Preston rushed past us yesterday. He hasn’t changed much, has he?”

I chuckle. “No, not really. But I can see why he never leaves this place.”

“And you balked at me for wanting to get married here. As if there was any other place on my list for a destination wedding.” Her head bobs with her giggle.

I could name a few other than Charleston, South Carolina, but I bite my tongue. Radiance beams off her, an excited glow I’ve never witnessed on my friend before.

She doesn’t know a thing about Cameron, and if all goes well, maybe she never will. She’ll be consumed with wedding stuff, and I’ll be avoiding any kind of recreation the resort offers by visiting the different pools. Surely the recreation director has better things to do than hang out by any of the three pools, right?

The thought flitters across my mind no sooner than a familiar tingle springs to life at the back of my neck. I don’t need to turn around to confirm.

I’ve been here for all of five minutes.

Seems like Operation Avoid Cameron Fairbanks is already a bust.

Chapter 2

Cameron

The afternoon heat settles in, the day merely getting started. Though I’ve been up for hours now, I’m finally getting a chance to take a break. Grab a bite to eat. Maybe take a boat out for a short sail around the island.

Badminton, my subconscious reminds me.

My mouth turns up into a scowl thinking about it.