Page 8 of Sand in My Boots

Damn, it’s a fine ass.

Get your mind out of the gutter, Fairbanks. This is Juliana Langley. Little sister of your best friend.

Didn’t stop you last time.

Great, even my brain is arguing with itself.

It’s eighty-five degrees outside, hotter than hell as we walk from the pool to the beach where the tournament takes place. The nets are always up, unless a huge storm’s coming through, but usually it’s for beach volleyball. But somebody got the brilliant idea of holding a badminton tournament. On the nets used for volleyball. I swear it was Silas to mess with me.

Bastard.

“So, what do you think of what you’ve seen of the resort so far?” I ask Juliana as we walk.

Juli.

I guess it suits her, though Juliana is a beautiful name, fitting for a beauty like her. Even without a lick of makeup, she’s gorgeous.

“It’s beautiful. I can tell why Preston never wants to leave.”

“That’s not the reason, but we can pretend it is.” I keep the rest of the thoughts about her brother to myself. They aren’t my secrets to spill.

“The pictures I’ve seen on the website don’t do the views justice. Earlier, I laid down for half a second to rest my eyes, but the bed was so comfortable, I slept for like an hour. I can’t remember that ever happening at home unless I’m sick.”

She continues speaking, giving her thoughts on the small part of the resort she’s visited. I listen the best I can, viewing the resort with fresh eyes.

Every day, I’m more fortunate than the day before to be living this life, co-owner of a five-star resort in Magnolia Cay. When I imagined my life growing up, it wasn’t this fancy. A nine-to-five day job, stuck in an office somewhere, doing paperwork. That’s all I saw for myself. It’s what I knew of my father and most of my friends’ fathers. Except for Preston. His dad worked long hours, but he had money to show for it. They even got to go on vacation. All I got was a scholarship to STEM camp. Which turned out to be a great blessing in the end, so I’m not complaining per se, but I could never have fathomed a place like this.

Preston initially had the idea to invest in a dying resort and brought the rest of us together. I had to turn it down because I didn’t have the capital to invest. I was barely making ends meet as a warehouse worker, plus the cost of moving to South Carolina wasn’t cheap. Until Preston called me up one day and told me an anonymous investor had offered a twenty-five percent stake and was mine if I wanted it. I didn’t hesitate to say yes, jumping at the chance to be involved with Whispering Tide, not thinking much beyond hearing I could work here. I packed up my shitty apartment, sold what I didn’t need, loaded up my rusty but trusty Ford Explorer, said goodbye to my parents and brothers, and hit the road. That phone call was four years ago, and I’ve never looked back. Been back to Connecticut for a visit, but that’s about it. I’m now a permanent resident of South Carolina.

“Oooh, badminton. Right. We played this in gym in high school.”

Juli’s voice zips me back to the present. She pushes the glasses on her head and observes the games already in progress, light bulbs going off over her head.

“You really had no idea what I was talking about?”

Her cheeks pinken. “Um, no. I ate a salad, but clearly it wasn’t enough to absorb all the liquor in the three drinks I practically chugged.”

Searching her eyes, they’re glazed over. “You want more food? Need to sit down?”

She licks her lips. I ignore the stirring feeling in my pants.

“You know what I want? Fries. Fat steak fries. With a shit-ton of salt and gobs of ketchup. You serve that here?” Her head tilts to the side as she peers up at me, her lashes fanned over her cheek as she blinks. “By ‘you,’ I don’t actually mean you, Came.” Her fingers cover her mouth. “Shit. Why does your name keep coming out like that?”

I should keep my thoughts to myself. In no way should I lean closer to her. But damn if her coconut scent isn’t drawing me in, beckoning me like a siren. “Freudian slip?”

She takes a deep breath and holds it for a beat before releasing it. When she speaks again, it’s not what I thought it would be.

“Steak fries. You serve them or not?” She bites down on her tongue, and I have to wonder if it’s a tactic not to say anything else.

I nod unhurriedly. “We have fries.” I dig my phone out of the pocket of my shorts and pull up the app for the restaurant. “You want anything else? A drink? Dessert? Popcorn for the epic showdown that is beach badminton?”

“Is this the restaurant serving those bush things you mentioned earlier?”

“No.” Thank goodness. She can’t handle one of those right now. Nor can I handle her drinking one.

“Shucks. Maybe later.”

“Right.” Probably not a good idea. Although if she has some food, and I tell Natasha not too heavy, she might be okay.