Page 15 of Hot Saltwater Kisses

“Miami as well,” I said. “Been a few years.”

“Wait a second.” Logan stared at me, eyes narrowing. I shifted under his gaze, tempted to look away if not for how I didn’t do that anymore. He blinked, then smiled. “Hey, you don’t happen to know Katie’s dive center, do you?”

“Katie?” Wow, what were the odds? “I worked there before coming here—she trained me into an instructor. She’s”—like family—“great. Really great.”

“She’s still got your picture in her shop,” Logan said.

“You mean a picture that I took?” I asked. How did he know? As part of her campaign to boost my self-confidence, Katie had put up several of my better photos in the shop when I’d still been there, but it wasn’t like I’d scrawled my name across them in scarlet letters.

“No, I meant a pictureofyou—I saw it when I did my Advanced Open Water certification. Must have been taken on Katie’s boat. You were laughing at something, still in your dive gear?” He shaped it into a question and followed it up with another smile, his hair tousled bythe wind. “I always thought it was one of those model shots that dive shops can order from PADI or whatever. Didn’t make the connection until just now.”

Katie had taken that picture the same day I’d decided to accept the job here. I’d felt free for the first time in years, in charge of my own life again. Boldly moving forward.

“A model shot?” I laughed. “Hardly. But, yeah. I worked there for a few years.”

“Why ‘hardly’?” Logan asked, and Tom huffed out a snort.

“Should I light a few candles?” he asked. “Or play some mood music to go with this flirt fest?”

Ah, so Logan really wasn’t straight. I glanced at him just as he glanced at me. Briefly, our gazes held. Then he shook his head and looked away with a tiny frown that sat mostly around the corners of his mouth.

“Would you like some sneakers for that leap?” he asked Tom.

Ouch. Friendly reality check—Logan and I didn’t play in the same league. For just a second there, I’d forgotten.

“Just calling it like I see it,” Tom said easily.

I shifted my attention to the horizon. Sea melted seamlessly into the sky, the sun casting a golden pathway across the water. Seabirds showed as silhouettes, their calls echoing as they swooped and soared.

“Eh.” I shrugged and smiled. “Don’t knock Tom’s creative potential, man. Could be he pens a bestselling romantic comedy one day.”

“Fat chance,” Logan said with a laugh.

“Your lack of faith cuts deep.” While Tom’s tone was grave, mirth lurked just underneath.

It had all the signs of another banter war, and I took my first glimpse of the resort’s thatched roofs and wooden structures as a cue to leave them to it.

I was just the hired help, after all, and they’d be gone in a month.

5

After a family-friendly beginner’s trip in the afternoon, only Logan and Tom joined our sunset dive at the Champagne Reef. We arrived just as the last sliver of sun dipped below the horizon, leaving a twilight glow that slowly merged into the indigo of early night. As we slipped into the water, the surface shimmered in a myriad of colors, rippling like liquid glass.

Our dive lights illuminated a world that pulsed with life. The thermal vents of the reef exhaled streams of warm bubbles that danced in the light, surreal like swimming through a giant, fizzing beverage. Corals appeared almost alien in their vibrant textures, dotted with polyps that seemed to bloom in slow motion, reaching out with tiny, waving arms.

Logan and Tom didn’t need my help, so I’d brought my camera. I captured bubbles that sparkled like tiny stars in the underwater night sky. A curious octopus slunk from its den and paused momentarily, its eyes reflecting the light back into my camera lens for an almost surreal shot. Snaking through the crevices, a moray eel peeked at us with baleful eyes. In the beams of our lights, its skin gleamed like polished leather.

We ascended slowly and were greeted by the cool night air, theboat’s reflected light dancing on the sea. Nia waited for us with honeyed ginger tea. The spicy sweetness pooled warm in my belly, and fuck yeah, this was thelife—a stunning sunset, a great dive, and a hot beverage at the end. All that was missing was a splash of rum.

When I said as much, she pinched my waist. “Do I get a thank you for letting you have this dive?”

“You’re a wonderful boss and a beautiful human being,” I told her.

“Damn right,” she said.

Tom cocked his head. “There’s rum?”

We usually hid our stash from guests, but once in a while, exceptions were made. The way Nia assessed him with a sharp look told me this might be one of those occasions. “There is,” she said. “Beer, too. But you tell anyone, we’ll make you regret the day you were born.”

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