Page 47 of Beach Reads and Deadly Deeds

All I saw was my neat and tidy desk at work, with my perfectly arranged files and color-coded notes.

My two cats, Nick and Nora, meowing at the door of my apartment when they heard my key in the lock.

Then I saw Grams over my coffin, shaking her head, Jane and Amanda on each side of her, all of them looking sad.

Not because I was dead (though I’m sure they would all be sad at my demise), but, Grams said as she pet my cats, “Poor Mia, she never lived.”

Yes I did! I wanted to scream, but Nightmare Grams was right. I was scared of living.

Suddenly, the Jet Ski stopped.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. “Are we sinking? Did it break? Do you have a radio? How far are we from shore? Can we swim back?”

“Open your eyes,” Jason said.

“No.”

“Mia,” he said softly. “Open.”

Slowly, reluctantly, I opened my eyes.

We were a good distance out to sea. I could see the entire island before me. The resort looked like a tiny dollhouse. The

sun was barely behind the island, glorious colors framing the mountain peaks like a halo.

It was gorgeous and romantic, and I had no words.

Jason put his hands on mine, which were still tightly wrapped around his waist.

“Sometimes,” he said almost too quiet for me to hear, “I come out here and sit until it’s almost dark. It makes me feel small,

but in a good way. My problems are smaller, my worries disappear... it’s freeing. When I get back on the island, solutions

to my problems magically appear.” He chuckled. “Because I took the time to clear my mind and not overthink everything.”

I realized then that I didn’t really know Jason. Not who he was inside and what he might worry about. He was friendly and

intelligent and had opinions about things like extreme sports and taking risks and even my own dream of owning a bookstore.

A dream I had never told anyone until Jason. Maybe because he was a stranger... maybe because I would never see him after

this week.

But I didn’t know Jason’s dreams, or his fears, or how he grew up or even where he grew up. I didn’t know if he had brothers

and sisters, what he did before he started working on St. Claire, and if he had plans for his future.

“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 I could retire 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, and green 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 the lagoon 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.

“I am honored to be your Prince Charming.” He bowed deeply, then took my hand and led me toward the cliff.

It looked like there was nowhere to go, then Jason led us around a huge boulder, revealing the opening to a cave.

I froze. It was dark and scary and not like a place I wanted to explore.

Jason faced me, took both my hands.

“Trust me,” he said.

“Where does it go?”

He didn’t answer me, simply stared at me with an expression that said this is your choice .

His expression also said that my decision now was about more than whether to go into the cave. It was about trusting him—and

trusting myself. About whether I was going to always play it safe, or take a risk... even if it was a small risk.

Jason was with me. The risk didn’t seem so great with him by my side.

I leaned up and kissed him. He looked surprised, and that’s when I realized he’d been the one who had initiated each of our make-out sessions. I was a very willing participant, but I hadn’t spontaneously kissed him until now.

I was glad I did. Something shifted between us. I felt closer to him, as if we shared something unspoken.

Holding hands, we entered the cave.

The sand was rockier, large shells littering the mouth of the cave. A stream of water flowed into the ocean behind us. The

cavern was completely dark for a minute, but I swallowed the fear, my hand tightening in Jason’s.

Then suddenly, we stood in the open.

It wasn’t a nearly enclosed cavern like in the lagoon on the north side of the island; instead, it was a park, open to the

sky, a thin waterfall streaming down the rock face. Bushes grew out of the cliffs, and trees towered all around us. In the

middle where the water fell was what looked like a small lake. I watched as it streamed out the way we’d come in. The setting

sun reflected off the cliffs, casting a surreal glow and multitude of gold-tinged colors all around.

“It’s—” I had no words. For a bookworm like me, how could I not think of a word other than beautiful ? We stood in a snow globe without snow. Or the Garden of Eden.

“I know,” he whispered.

I leaned against Jason, my back to his chest, his arms wrapped around me, his chin resting on the top of my head. We stood

together in the middle of this amazing spot, watching as the light changed with the falling sun. Just when I thought it couldn’t

get more beautiful, another ridge or tree was highlighted as the angle of the sun changed. The chirping birds faded as they

nested for the night.

I didn’t want to leave. There was something spiritual here, as if this spot made me part of the island itself.

Jason slowly turned me to face him and kissed me. It was a light kiss, a long kiss. A kiss that had no urgency, but was full

of desire. My lips parted. His hands went to my back and pulled me tighter against him, but still his lips were light, teasing

and loving at the same time.

“We need to go,” he said, sounding sad.

“Mmm-hmm.”

“I have a whole evening planned for us.”

“Mmm.” I held him tight, put my hand on his chest. “If we must.” Then I thought about the cave. “Do we have to worry about