Page 59 of Resting Beach Face
Unfortunately, the last guest arrived later than expected—so it was seven-thirty before I was free of front-desk duties.
I went to the kitchen to whip up an easy dinner for the guys, my heart sinking when I saw the taillights of Gray’s truck bounce along the path outside the window.
I picked up my phone and texted Cash.
Declan:
Sorry I didn’t make it over tonight. Had a late check-in.
His reply took a few minutes to come in.
Cash:
No problem, man. You’ve got a full-time job over here.
Declan:
You’ve got a job at the resort too. You’re doing too much for me.
Cash:
I’m doing exactly what I want to do. Listen, I’m kinda busy. Want to come over and just talk to me face-to-face?
I blinked at my phone dumbly.
Declan:
Wait. You’re still over there? I saw Gray’s truck leave.
Cash:
Yeah, he had a booze cruise to cover, but Mom’s home tonight, so I thought I’d get some hours in while I could.
Jesus, this man. He wasstillworking.
I sent a quick text to let him know I’d be right over, then finished sauteing the ground beef in the skillet and made quick work of assembling a few tacos in soft flour shells.
I packed them up, along with a couple of beers, and headed over to The Roost. My heart was beating a little quicker than usual, but I chalked it up to the surprise that Cash was still here and I could contribute to the project after all.
Of course, then I opened the door and saw him.
Cash stood on a stepstool, his back to me, as he sanded sheetrock. His arm flexed, his whole body tensing and relaxing with his movements, and there was just something so familiar and welcome about the sight of him.
My chest warmed, my gut fluttered, and I froze where I was, just staring at the amazing man who’d volunteered so much of his time and energy to me.
I never would have pegged Cash as a hard worker, based on his playful nature, but he was dedicated to helping me.
Even though I’d done nothing but push him away.
A breath shuddered out of me, and he half turned, glancing over his shoulder. A smile lit up his face. “Hey, you.”
“Hey.” My voice came out a little hoarse. I cleared my throat and lifted the platter in my hands. “I brought tacos.”
“Oh, I’m starving. Thanks, man.”
I didn’t love Cash calling meman.Like I was just one of his friends.
I frowned down at the tacos, as if they held the answers to my conflicted emotions. Cash hopped to the floor and reached for the plate, his hands brushing over mine.
