Her wet hair whipped behind her as they cut through the waves, and this was heaven for Steph. Working outdoors. If she never spent a night inside, she’d be the happiest woman alive. The sun, the sand, the surf. The mountains, the hikes, the trails. Bliss—all of it. She’d almost lost her business more than a year ago, but thanks to her mother’s help, she’d started anew.
As they reached the marina, Lance slowed the motor, navigating through other sailors returning to the beach.
“When do you leave for your next adventure tour?” Robert asked.
She rubbed her hands together. “I’m so excited for this one. I’m running a rock climbing and dive gig in the Caymans.”
“Nice. First job there in a while, right?”
Nodding, she twisted her index and middle finger together. “Took me months to get this one,” she said, letting out a long breath, because it felt like she’d been holding it forever as she waited for the tour to come through. The Caymans were hit the hardest in her ex-boyfriend Duke’s slash-and-burn. “Then I head to Turks and Caicos for a private tour there. And that gives you plenty of time to cut the video and post it on the site before I leave,” she said, batting her eyes and adopting a wide smile, even though Robert was well aware that she wanted to use the footage to advertise her tour company’s growing work in vacation spots around the equator, starting with her home base of Miami and spanning across the Caribbean from the Caymans to Aruba to the Bahamas. “And I can book some Miami dives for when I return.”
Robert rolled his light-blue eyes and ran a hand through his hair, golden from years in the sun, like hers. “Always working.”
“When work is play, it’s hardly work,” she tossed back. “Besides, it sure beats not working, and I had enough of that in the past year to last a lifetime.”
He raised a closed fist and knocked it against hers. “Here’s to keeping busy and saying fuck you to the asshole who tried to tank you,” he said as he parked a foot on the dash. “And anytime you need me to shoot something for you, I’ll gladly do it.”
“I’ll second that. Well, when it comes to driving the boat,” Lance called out, then did a double take, narrowing his dark eyes at Robert. “Hey, get your stinky foot off my dashboard.”
Steph leaned forward to pretend to wipe the dash. “Don’t worry, Lance. I’ll clean it up for you. I want Sally to look pretty, too,” she said, patting the boat as she used the name he’d given it long ago—the shaggy mutt he’d had as a kid. “See you in a couple hours, Captain,” she said with a salute, then helped moor Sally to the dock.
“Amen to that,” Lance said.
When they were done, she said good-bye to her brother and her friend, then hopped into her red car, lowered the top, and headed up the road to the South Beach main drag. Once in town, she parked a block away from her mom’s favorite fish taco restaurant and met her mother, Shelly, for a cocktail at the street-side bar. Well, mocktails for Steph, since she had more work to do—leading a sunset snorkel trip off Key Biscayne in a few hours—and she’d made sure to hire Lance as her crew for that one. One way of saying thanks for how he’d helped her, she made sure she sent all her new business in Miami to her buddy.
“You’re too tan, sweetheart. You need to wear sunscreen. Or a hat,” her mother said, gesturing to her own wide-brimmed hat that was large enough to provide a landing pad for creatures from outer space. She wore yoga pants, a sports bra, and a silvery necklace she’d made herself. It matched the one Steph wore.
“The tan is kind of an occupational hazard,” Steph said, gesturing to her getup—green bikini covered by blue swim shorts and a loose tank. “I can slather myself with the stuff, but even then, the sun leaves its mark,” she added as the waiter brought the drinks—virgin piña colada for Steph and a mojito for her mom.
They had a standing afternoon get-together every Monday and Thursday. Her mother was strong and didn’t like to let on how lonely she’d been since her divorce from Steph’s stepfather two years ago after nearly two decades of marriage and raising her two kids with him. But the twice-a-week meetings told Steph that yoga classes and a return to work hadn’t filled the void yet. Steph felt that void, too, though she’d never admit that to her mom. She missed the now-defunct holiday get-togethers, the occasional picnics at the beach, and especially the times when the three of them would grab lunch together at an outdoor café and she’d share stories from her adventure trips.
“Slather yourself more,” her mother said, issuing it like a clean-your-room instruction, even though Steph was twenty-eight and had long since outgrown such directives. Besides, her room was quite neat, thank you very much. Her whole condo was. Kicking out her ex had done wonders for the cleanliness level of her place. The man had been a slob, but all things considered, that was one of the nicest things she could say about Duke.
“I will,” Steph said, even though she probably wouldn’t, but her mom liked to keep busy, and busy meant doling out parental advice, so Steph went along with it.
As her mom brought the glass to her lips, she tipped her forehead to the sidewalk. “Incoming hotness at two p.m.,” her mom whispered out of the corner of her lips.
“Mom,” Steph admonished.
“Not for me. For you. You deserve a little fun. Look,” she urged.
Steph shook her head but took the bait, because hotness was hard to resist checking out. She followed her mom’s gaze and nearly murmured her approval out loud when her eyes landed on a tall, trim, and dark-haired man in tan slacks, a crisp white button-down, and aviator shades. His jaw was chiseled, dusted with the perfect amount of stubble, and his lips looked oh-so-kissable.