Page 13 of Hot Saltwater Kisses

We took the well-worn stairs from the shop perched high on the hill down to the pier. Salt and humidity had aged the wooden railings to a silvery patina. The sea below us was a glassy expanse, undisturbed by even the faintest whisper of a breeze.

Bringing up the rear gave me a chance to admire Logan, descending the stairs in front of me. Sun caught in his slightly shaggy hair, highlighting the bronzed muscles of his back and shoulders. He looked like he’d stepped straight out of some beach magazine, long-limbed and skin gleaming with a slight sheen of sweat.

Yeah,fine. I’d be revisiting this image under the shower. I was only human, for fuck’s sake.

The scent of the sea mingled with the earthy aroma of the surrounding foliage as we stepped onto the wooden planks of the pier. Tom dropped his stack of fins with a gusty sigh and stopped to take in theBlueberry Seas’resplendent coat of purple paint. “Wow. That is one gay boat.”

Hmm.

“Thanks,” I said with forced lightness.

Logan shoved his sunglasses into his hair, then held out a hand to Tom, palm up, and crooked his fingers in the universal ‘pay up’ gesture. “That’s five bucks in rainbow taxes, man.”

“Do I look like I’m carrying my wallet?” Tom asked.

“Hard to be sure.” Logan’s sudden smirk dug craters into his cheeks. “Seems like there’s plenty of room in those trunks.”

“What’s that all about?” Nia asked with a nod down at Logan’s gesture.

“Ah, well.” Smirk persisting, Logan dropped his hand. “You’d think that with two decades of friendship between us, Tom would have learned not to stereotype. But alas…”

Another hint at Logan’s sexuality? Still none of my concern. Never mind the sharp burst of attraction, nothing to do with the heat, when I watched his languid stretch after setting down his tank.

“So you make him pay?” I asked, a tad delayed.

“Five bucks for every comment that stereotypes gay people.” Logan’s grin was lopsided. “Both Tom and this other friend of mine, Kyle. If they keep it up, I’ll have a nice little backup fund if the family money runs out.”

“Well, fine.” Tom dropped the stack of fins on the pier. “But you’ve got to admit that the purple is kinda out there.”

“Et tu, Brute?” Nia shoved her tumble of hair back and pulled it into a messy bun, then hopped on board theBlueberry Seasso I could begin passing over the gear.

“People complain about the purple?” Logan asked.

“Some townsfolk want us to paint her green and yellow,” I said.

Logan tilted his head, looking from me to the boat. “Why don’t you?”

“Name like that,” I said, “she’sgotto be blue and purple.”

“She?” Logan asked right as Tom jumped in with, “So rename it. Or her—whatever.”

“You can’t rename a boat,” Nia said. “It’s bad luck.”

“Also,” I said, “the higher-ups named it.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed. “You mean that Richard dude?” He sounded skeptical, which was a healthy reaction to anything Richard-related.

“No, he’s only been here for a couple of years.” I hoisted the first tank up by the attached dive vest and passed it over to Nia, careful to support its weight until she had it fully under control. “It was the family who owns this place. The son, I think.”

I’d missed theBlueberry Seas’maiden voyage. The resort had opened just a few weeks before our stay, and my first dives had been from a standard dinghy. I’d been excited to check out a boat actually built for divers, but my parents had insisted on a final hike that kept me from the christening.

“So he proposedBlueberry Seas, and the rest of the family just went, ‘Sure, why not?’” Tom sounded inexplicably entertained.

Logan’s smile flickered. “What would you have named it—Stormbreaker?Wave Rebel?”

“Would’ve been much more badass,” Tom said, and I might judge him for douche tendencies if not for the barely hidden quirk to his mouth.

“Sure,” Nia said. “Scare off the kids, just what we’re after.”

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