Page 75 of Hot Saltwater Kisses

His response took mere seconds.‘Yes.’

Everything went static for a moment, the faintly brighter blur of the window an abstract frame for thoughts I couldn’t piece together. Then I tapped out another message.‘Meet me on the pier.’

Fitting, wasn’t it? Full circle. Back to where I’d first seen him, years ago—just a laughing stranger, all boyish charm and golden skin.

‘5 minutes,’ he replied.

All right. I dragged on a T-shirt, slipped into shorts, and stepped outside. Humidity weighed down the nighttime air and clung to my skin, the resort’s watering system gurgling softly. Subtle lighting illuminated paths and the stairs down to the shore while the moon hung low, its pale light swallowed by the inky water.

The pier stretched out into the sea, spotlights shining down to attract marine life. No sign of Logan yet. I kicked off my sandals, sat at the edge, and let my feet dangle into the warm water. Beneath me,schools of silvery needlefish darted in and out of view like flickering specters. Occasionally, a larger shadow snaked by—a tarpon, maybe, drawn in by the promise of an easy meal among the smaller fry. The sea’s heartbeat was steady, echoing in my bones.

Footsteps. I didn’t turn when Logan sat down beside me, a careful arm’s length between us. The air seemed to shift with his presence—quiet warmth, yet charged like a thunderstorm rolling in. I felt his eyes on me before he shifted his attention to the dark sky, silently waiting me out.

I liked that—liked that he didn’t push, gave me space and time rather than trying to dictate the rhythm of this. While it wasn’t quite enough to mute the hum of hurt and anger in my chest, it was a start.

After a minute, I glanced at him. The moon painted his profile in soft silvers and shadows. His shoulders were hunched slightly, hands loosely resting on his thighs, and when he turned his head to meet my gaze, something raw and real flickered in his eyes.

‘That boy is crazy about you.’

And I believed it. It might not change a thing, but I believed it.

“This is where we first met, you know?” My voice broke through the quiet like the ripple of a wave.

Slight confusion shadowed his features. “You mean figuratively? Because we did our first dive and I stopped acting like a jerk?”

“No.” I looked back at the water, reflected moonlight shattering into pieces as the waves lapped against the pier. “Years ago, when I first visited with my parents. It was my last night here, and I wanted to get some pictures. Was hoping for some bioluminescence.” I let one side of my mouth curl up, still watching the sea. “It didn’t happen, but I saw you laughing with a friend. Your cousin, I guess. Even took a picture.”

Logan moved sharply, drawing an audible breath. “I didn’t notice. You could have talked to me.”

Yeah, no. I shook my head. “I was shy.”

“Right. I knew that.” He paused, something like wonder woven into his tone. “Do you still have the picture?”

“No, it didn’t turn out well. Deleted it when I got home.”

“So.” A smile played around the edges of Logan’s mouth, coated in a hint of disbelief. “Years ago, you took a picture of me. And then I saw one of you at Katie’s shop before… all this.”

I gave a small, dry laugh. “Yeah. I’d say fate’s not subtle, but it’s maybe less of a miracle when our parents run in the same social circle and we’re both divers.”

“Right.” He tilted his head, something soft woven into his next question. “When did you realize you’d seen me before?”

“Around the time we first hooked up. Or—a little before that.”

“Oh.” Logan’s brow furrowed, his features outlined by the underwater shine.

“That’s not why,” I told him. “I wasn’t suddenly like, ‘Oh, hey, must be fate! Better get an orgasm out of it.’ I was already attracted to you. The rest was just… a side note. Except, you know, that’s the moment I should have made the connection.” I didn’t fight the bitter twinge creeping into my tone. “Like, you being here for the christening of theBlueberry Seas, and your whole spiel about studying Hospitality Management, your supposed thesis...”

“It’s all true.” He straightened his spine and turned to face me fully. “Milo, please. I lied about my last name, yeah, and the whole...” For a beat, he faltered. “My aunt and uncle own this place, not me. But it’s family. And they’d received complaints about Richard. So the idea was for me to check it out, and if those complaints were valid, there’d be a chance for me to take over. I mean, I’d have to prove myself first, right? Come up with some good ideas for how to manage this place.” Another pause, underpinned by a vague, almost helpless half-wave of his hand. “It would have let me gain some first-hand experience, you know? For when I’ll eventually inherit my parents’ hotel in Miami. But... yeah. That was the general idea.”

Christ, that was a lot. I grabbed at the first question that didn’t slip from my grasp. “Your parents own a hotel?”

“Yeah. Just one, in Miami. It’s not part of the Prescott chain.” Again, he paused. “So, yeah. That’s, you know. That’s what I lied about. Everything else, though? It’s all true.”

I dropped my gaze to the water, the gentle lapping of wavesalmost maddening in their unbothered regularity. Thick silence stretched between us, and this... It came down to this, didn’t it?

“Please.” Logan’s voice slipped into a whisper. “I know you hate the idea of dating the boss, okay? And I’m... I get that. Ido. So I’ve decided not to take over as manager here.”

He... What?

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