Page 27 of Hot Saltwater Kisses

“Ah.” Logan nodded. “I guess that makes sense.”

Before the conversation could spin out further, Diego arrived to take our orders. Between Tom inquiring about ingredients and cooking methods and Diego answering in enthusiastic detail, the moment passed.

It was for the best.

“Quantum…what?”I asked.

“Quantum topology.” Tom repeated it as though this was a commonly understood concept. Uh.

“Like…” Nia’s brows knitted together. “Something to do with small patterns and geometry?”

“Yes.” Tom sounded way more excited than any math-related matter deserved. His voice rose clear above the rhythmic beat of Caribbean music. “Look, it’s fascinating, all right? You’re taking the crazy, wonderful principles of quantum mechanics, and then you apply them to topology. Like, how can space be twisted and knotted at the quantum level? The implications are…” He waved his hand in a wide arc, holding a forgotten, half-eaten plantain chip. “Massive. From understanding the fabric of the universe to developing new kinds of quantum computers.”

“Okay,” I said slowly, cautiously, and turned to Nia. “That was English, right? I’m pretty sure it was.”

“I believe so,” she said, only she sounded captivated rather than daunted.

“Let me help with that.” Logan flashed his dimples. “Think of it like this: on the one hand, you’ve got these tiny particles that are kind of magic—like they can be in two places at once and stuff. And you also have spaces that bend and twist like rubber bands. So now the question is, how do these tiny magic particles act when they’re in those bendy, twisty spaces?”

Well, okay. Nia wasn’t the only one who liked smart guys.

“You do that a lot?” I asked Logan. A bead of sweat was forming on his temple. The humidity, no doubt, but fuck if I didn’t want to lean over and taste him. I was almost certain that he’d let me.

“Translate Tom to English?” Logan asked, blessedly oblivious. “Yeah—not my first time at this rodeo.”

“He’s the Watson to my Sherlock,” Tom declared grandly.

“Like in the BBC version, where they really need to shag already?” Nia asked.

“Godno.” Logan gave a dramatic shudder. “That’s my quasi-brother you’re talking about.”

“C’mon.” Tom smirked at him. “We all know you want a piece of my damn fine ass.”

Nia leaned slightly into Tom and lowered her voice, but not enough to keep it from carrying across the table. “I wouldn’t kick your ass out of bed. Just saying.”

“Have you no shame?” I asked her while Tom looked delighted.

She pretended to consider this, then shook her head. “No. You should try it sometime.”

Just then, a platter of golden bakes arrived to stall the conversation—saved by the bell. Their pillowy forms still steamed from the fryer as Logan plucked one off the shared plate and took a tentative bite.

“It’s like a savory doughnut,” he commented, which wasn’t a bad way to describe the salty, slightly sweet taste of the dough.

I realized I was staring at his mouth, shiny with oil, and looked away. “It’s a Dominican staple.”

“And the perfect hangover cure,” Nia said.

Tom chewed politely, clearly unconvinced, and settled for a neutral, “Yeah, I can see that.”

“Sound more enthusiastic, I dare you,” I told him, then turned to Logan. “So now that Tom left us both impressed and confused, what’syourthesis about?”

“Applying theoretical concepts of hospitality management to a real-world setting.” Logan sounded like he’d recited it a great many times.

“That’s generic,” I said.

His smile was quick and bright. “In practice, I’m doing an in-depth analysis of management practices at the resort here. Based on that, I’ll make strategic recommendations for how to improve things. It’s important for me to get this right.”

“And why’s that?” I asked.

---