Page 120 of Beach Reads and Deadly Deeds

“I can see why you love this island,” I said. “Why you work here.”

“It won’t last forever,” he said.

“Why? Henry seems very happy. He talked about how much he and his wife love working at the resort and how good management is to them. Housing, a month paid vacation.”

I felt Jason laugh more than heard it. “Henry and Millie are empty nesters. Did you know Henry used to teach high school biology in the States? And Millie owned her own business, alterations and dry cleaning. One of her kids took over, Henry retired early from teaching because he didn’t enjoy it anymore, and they started working here. He once said he’ll never retire from the resort because he doesn’t feel like he’s really working.”

I didn’t realize Henry had not only completely changed careers, but chose to do something simpler for probably less money. Though with the kids out of the house and free housing on the island, maybe they didn’t need as much to be comfortable. I’d always thought of my career trajectory as having to keep moving up the ladder, making more money, putting more into my retirement so that Icouldretire and support myself. I had never before considered maybe doing something different, something I loved, after my career was done.

Like opening a bookstore in thirty years.

“I could stay here for hours,” he said, “but I’m hungry, and you’re probably hungry, too. The sun is disappearing, and being on a Jet Ski at night is dangerous.”

“Even for you, Mr. Risk Taker?”

“I take risks, but not stupid risks.”

“Too bad we can’t eat out here,” I said jokingly.

“We’re going to jet around the island. I have a picnic set up for us on the other side. Ready?”

I squeezed him and he drove south, parallel with the island. This time, I didn’t close my eyes. The front shield helped keep most of the water spray off my face, and I saw the island in all its glory. The pristine beaches, neatly docked boats, inlets, andgreen mountains with occasional bursts of color where flowers had taken over an area.

The southern tip of the island was a paradise within paradise.

A beach spread out from the base of a cliff that had to tower ten stories up. There was a dock here, too—as big as the one that serviced the resort—with a boat house. Stairs had been built into the cliff. I would be terrified to walk up them—how were they even secured?

At the top of the stairs was a deck with a one-hundred-eighty-degree view. It had to be spectacular. The house was wood and glass, no lights on except white string lights wrapped around the deck and trees. Behind the house, the mountain gently sloped up to the peak, but based on maps of the island I’d seen, there was a narrow road that went from the house to the resort.

Ethan Valentine’s house.

I wanted to ask Jason about him, but talking was impossible over the noise of the Jet Ski. Jason navigated around protruding rocks, then around to the west side of the island and up to a man-made break.

The southern half of the island was narrower than the northern half. Jason slowed, then stopped as we approached a boat anchored a couple hundred yards from the beach. The boat was lit up, visible even though the sun had just started to dip into the ocean, making me think there was a party going on.

“Someone else is here?” I asked when he stopped. I tried not to show my disappointment that we wouldn’t be eating alone.

“I brought the boat earlier, then went back to the resort to pick you up.”

“Why?”

“I needed to get the food over here. Plus, remember? No Jet Skis at night.”

“And how are we going to get back?”

He laughed. “The boat. Anytime we want. We’re on no schedule. No one is expecting me or you.” He ran his hand up and down my leg. My heart skipped a beat, thinking about thelagoon the other night and how close we’d been to having sex before we were interrupted. “Can you wait a few minutes to eat?” His voice was low, sexy, teasing.

“Sure,” I said, sounding far more confident than I felt. I pictured having sex on the Jet Ski, and I didn’t quite know how it would work. I supposed I could sit in the front, face him, pray we didn’t topple over...

“I want to show you something, and we don’t have a lot of time before the sun goes down.”

Jason turned the Jet Ski toward the inlet and stopped on narrow beach. He helped me off the Jet Ski, and I wobbled as if just getting off a horse. Before I fell on my ass in the sand, he caught me and kissed me.

“One sec.”

He pulled the Jet Ski a few feet up the beach, took my sandals from the dry compartment, and slipped them on my feet.

“I feel like Cinderella,” I said.