12

Gage growled as he pressed Sheryl into the metal door of her office, easily turning the deadbolt as he did. The last thing he needed was one of her crew members coming in while he made out with her. Or for his brother to stumble upon them, as he happened to work for Sheryl now.

“Gage,” she said breathlessly, and he took the opportunity to move his mouth to her neck. She tasted like sweat and sunscreen, and he was ravenous for more of her. He hadn’t seen her as much since she’d started making preparations for the surfing competition several days ago. Once it started, he’d be working long afternoons in the sun. It would be another nine days before they got back to their normal schedule and sneaking into her office with her for a few minutes had become their new “normal” for the last few days.

She ran her fingernails through his hair and giggled, the sound like the sweetest song in Gage’s ears. He pulled back with some difficulty, his breathing ragged to match the marching of his pulse.

“I haven’t seen you in forever,” he said, his voice rough around the edges.

“It was last night,” she said, smiling as she pressed her lips to his again in a chaste kiss.

“Feels like a long time.” With his head clearer, he stepped away from her fully and said, “I brought that turkey bacon wrap you like for lunch.” She’d been working longer hours, the only thing keeping her going was some banana split party on the horizon.

She’d invited him to it as well, and he’d said he’d come. He just wanted to spend time with Sheryl, learn all about her that he could. He’d been working with her for just over a week, but it felt like a lot longer.

“Thanks,” she said.

“How are things going with the new stuff Olympia is doing?” he asked. “Oh, and that hammock is at your place. I’ll go over this afternoon with Britta and put it up for you, if you want.”

“I definitely want you to do that,” she said, rounding her desk and sitting down. She pulled the white deli bag toward her and looked inside. “And Olympia’s, well, Olympia. She’s constantly trying to think of things to make Heartwood better. She’s been going nuts training new staff for actual food service during the surfing competition. We’ve never done that before.”

“It’s a good idea.” Gage pulled out the folding chair and sat down across from her.

“Did you eat already?” she asked, taking out her wrap.

“No, mine is in there,” he said. She reached in again and pulled out another sandwich.

“Oh, it sure is.” She looked at it. “California club? Really? That has sprouts and stuff on it.” She made a face, which made Gage want to kiss her again.

“Yeah.” He took it from her and started unwrapping it. “It’s good.”

“I don’t like roast beef on a sandwich.”

“You’ve told me,” he said. “So, tell me something I don’t know. Where would you go on vacation if you could go anywhere?”

“Anywhere?” Her eyebrows went up.

“Anywhere.”

“Iceland,” she said. “To see the Northern Lights.”

He nodded, a smile touching his mouth. He took a bite of his sandwich, expecting the same question in return. They’d been doing this during lunchtime for the past few days, and that was how he’d learned she didn’t like roast beef on sandwiches. And that she loved watching crime dramas on TV, and that she always had sour candy in her purse.

He’d told her more about himself than anyone else in the past few years, and when he’d realized that, he’d felt kind of stupid. But he’d never needed a lot of friends or people around him. In fact, while he loved having the island bursting with tourists, he also liked the smaller crowd of locals that hung around in the winter too.

“And you?” she asked.

“Maybe England?”

“You’re guessing?” she teased.

“Well, I’ve been a few places with the Marines,” he said. “The Middle East. Hawaii. Africa.” He shrugged like it was no big deal, because it wasn’t. He certainly hadn’t taken any safaris or surfing lessons while on active duty. “But I’ve never been to England, and I think it would be fun.”

“We should go,” she said, a genuine smile on her face.

Gage nodded, because he didn’t know what else to do. “Do you actually take time off work?”

She laughed as she shook her head. “No. Do you?”

“Hardly ever.” He grinned at her and took another bite of his sandwich. He loved being with her like this, eating and talking. It was simple, sure. Comforting. He felt himself slip a little bit, and he knew he was very close to falling in love with this woman.

It seemed impossible that he could be so close after only several days. They had spent a lot of time together, and while they didn’t always get along, they always made up.

“Favorite junk food,” she said.

“I have to pick one?”

“Top three.”

“Pizza,” he said.

“That’s not a junk food,” she argued. “It has like four food groups.”

“Sure, okay.” He laughed. “Popcorn from the theater, with a lot of butter.” He waited for her to say something, but she didn’t. So he continued with, “Corndogs and French fries.”

She finished chewing, her eyes bright and blue and beautiful. “You just named all my favorite things.”

“Yeah? You can’t add to the top three?”

“For the record, you named four things.” She gave him a so-there look, and then tossed her ponytail over her shoulder. “Soda, popcorn with a lot of butter, and….” She cocked her head as if she were really thinking hard about it.

Gage found her to be the most attractive creature he’d ever laid eyes on, and he couldn’t help chuckling as he finished his sandwich.

“Candy.”

“That’s a huge category,” he said. “And so is soda. I think you might be cheating.”

“Can we cheat at this game?” She wiped her hands on her napkins, her face full of flirt.

“Nope.” Gage got up and collected their trash. “All right. I’m going to go get Britta and get that hammock done.” He leaned down to kiss her, and she tilted her head back to receive it. All the fun, flirtiness from their conversation fled as she poured passion into her kiss.

Gage held her face in his hands, breathless from the first moment she touched him. He could kiss her all afternoon and still not be satisfied.

Someone knocked on her door and tried to open it, effectively making Gage jump away from her as if he’d been caught doing something wrong.

“Just a sec,” Sheryl called, straightening the collar on her polo as she stood. “Go on, you,” she whispered. “You’re going to get me in trouble.”

“With who?” he asked, genuinely wanting to know, as he moved toward the door. He flipped the deadbolt and opened the door, coming face to face with not just one, but two of Sheryl’s sisters.

Olympia he’d met at the bonfire. The other blonde had to be Celeste, as she worked for the inn doing special events and wedding planning, and she wore a cute pencil skirt with a tight-fitting blouse. He didn’t think a chef or a shrimp boat captain—what Gwen and Alissa did for a living—would wear such things to work.

“Hey,” he said. “Hello.”

“Gage,” Sheryl said. “You know my sisters, Olympia and Celeste.”

“Of course.” He saluted for a reason he couldn’t name and said, “See you later, Sheryl.”

Both Olympia and Celeste backed out of the doorway so Gage could squeeze by them, neither of them removing their eyes from him. He smiled and headed for the outdoor exit, feeling the weight of their gazes on him the whole time.

“Come on,” Sheryl said behind him. “Stop staring.”

“What were you two doing in there?” Olympia asked, obviously not trying to keep her voice down. “The door was locked.”

“I’ve never even seen this door closed,” Celeste said.

Sheryl laughed, and it took everything inside Gage not to turn around and wave good-bye to her. He made it out of the building without incident, taking a big breath of the hot, sea air outside.

“Okay,” he told himself, not checking for Ricky’s truck or anyone lurking nearby. “Time to put a hammock in a tree.”

Because if he did that, then he could hold Sheryl in his arms as the sun went down. Kiss her as the night stole the life from the day and they swayed back and forth in the breeze. Maybe murmur to her that he was falling in love with her.

Maybe.

She finished the preparations for the surfing competition, and Gage started his training for the security at the surfing competition. Nine days became eight, became seven, and it was time for the banana split party.

“Okay,” she said, pushing a cart full of bananas toward the back of the grocery store. “Now we just need the ice cream, and we can go.”

He pushed a cart too, this one laden with cans of fake whipped cream, jars of hot fudge and caramel sauce, and bags of chopped peanuts. He also had the bowls, spoons, and napkins, and they’d been in the store for entirely too long.

But the surfing competition started tomorrow morning, and Gage would be working security on the sand for the next eight afternoons. Olympia had hired more men than just him, and his evenings would be free to spend with Sheryl and that new hammock he’d put in the tree in her backyard.

They hadn’t been able to use it quite yet, and he was really looking forward to it.

“Hey,” she said to the guy at the butcher counter. “I have an order for thirty gallons of ice cream. Half banana and half vanilla.”

“Let me check for you.” The man turned and went through the swinging door that led into the back.

“This is the butcher counter,” Gage said.

“Yeah, this is where you pick up special orders from the dairy department.” She looked at him, her eyes sparkling. “You were worried.”

“It’s the butcher counter,” he said again. But a few moments later, the man returned with three other people, all of them carrying huge buckets of ice cream.

“Ah, thanks,” Sheryl said, beaming at them. After a few adjustments were made, they got the buckets in their carts and headed to the check-out.

Over at the inn, he worked to get everything set up for the party. He put up tables and chairs while she set out bowls and spoons and all the toppings. Before long, everyone on the grounds crew came inside most of them smelling like sunscreen, salt, and sweat.

“All right,” Sheryl said loudly, and everyone quieted down. She smiled around at them, and a rush of pride moved through Gage to watch her take control over the group. She was smart, and strong, and sexy, and he couldn’t wait to be alone with her again.

“Thank you all for working so hard this year,” she said. “The beach looks beautiful, and we got everything done on time, despite a few hiccups and new demands. It’s our annual banana split party.” She gestured to the tables. “But first, I have some bonuses to hand out.” She took a few steps over to the table and picked up a stack of envelopes.

“For solving problems with a smile.” She looked out at the group. “Simon Smith.”

Everyone clapped, and Gage felt their sense of unity, their sense of family, of belonging. And he knew who had established and cultivated that. Sheryl.

She continued with the awards, and then said, “All right. Time to feast!”

Chatter erupted as people got up and started scooping ice cream and spooning on hot fudge. Gage enjoyed himself, talking to a few people he’d seen around—especially Javier. He liked ice cream almost as well as corndogs or the footlongs from the vendor down at South Port, and he ate three bowls before kissing Sheryl and saying, “See you in a bit.”

He had to go to one more meeting with Olympia, and then he’d take Sheryl home. He had something special planned for them that night, and he couldn’t wait to be alone with her.

The meeting was long, and boring, and nothing he didn’t already know. By the time he made it back downstairs to her office, the tables and chairs and leftovers had been cleaned up. His footsteps echoed off the cement in the silence, and he stepped over to Sheryl’s office.

He froze, his heartbeat booming in his chest, his throat, his ears.

There had been a struggle in this office. Sheryl always left everything in its exact-right spot, and she would never leave several folders worth of papers strewn on the floor. Or her laptop open and unsecured. Or her soda sitting on the desk.

Gage spun away from the crime scene, reaching for his phone. He dialed Sheryl first, and her phone rang in the office behind him.

Definitely a problem. She never went anywhere without her phone. Ever.

His next call went to 9-1-1, and he stayed very still and out of the office, just in case there was a clue as to who had taken her or where she’d gone.