Page 32 of Blame It on the Bikini (Ocean Shores #4)

When the Singapore acquisition had fallen apart, he'd had to focus solely on getting it back.

It was what he'd been working on for months.

It was how he was going to prove to his father that the company would not only be in good hands but in better hands when he took over.

Now, he didn't know if that would happen.

But he'd done all he could do for now. He'd sent over new contracts.

He'd had a dozen conversations with a dozen different people, and they'd regroup on Monday.

With time on his hands, he'd decided to help Frank put the finishing touches on the Mustang.

The car show was tomorrow, and Frank was determined to drive the car in the parade.

He felt bad that he'd dropped the ball on this project, but Frank had been understanding, just saying he knew he was busy, but if he had time…

Well, he finally had time. When he got to the parking lot, he was impressed with all that Frank had accomplished. The car looked good, with fresh red paint sparkling in the late afternoon light, the chrome bumpers polished, and new tires mounted and balanced.

Frank wiped his hands on a shop rag as he leaned over the engine bay, making final adjustments to the carburetor.

"There you are," Frank said, looking up with a smile as Grayson approached. "Hand me that timing light," he added, gesturing toward the workbench.

He handed him the tool. "You've made incredible progress."

"Thanks. I'm almost there," he said as he connected the timing light to the spark plug wire. "Fire her up."

Grayson slid behind the wheel and turned the key. The engine roared to life with a deep, throaty rumble, then Frank made a subtle adjustment, and the idle smoothed out into a perfect, powerful purr.

"That's it," Frank called over the engine noise. "Shut her down."

He slid out of the car as Frank continued to tinker under the hood. "She sounds good to me."

"Yeah, I'm just double-checking everything. I could use your sharp eye to make sure I haven't missed anything. Once we've checked all the boxes, tomorrow, I'll give her one final wash and detail. She's going to turn heads at that show."

"She will," he agreed.

Frank met his gaze. "I'd like you to ride with me in the parade. What do you say?"

"This is your victory lap, not mine."

"You helped me more than you know."

"I've been MIA the past three weeks."

"Yeah, but when you first helped me, I was having doubts about whether I could even restore this car or not, and your encouragement made me believe I could. So, will you ride with me?"

"I'd be honored," he said, touched by Frank's words. "What can I do to help you now?"

"Before we get into that," Frank said, giving him a speculative look. "Why don't you tell me what's been keeping you so busy?"

"I've been working on an acquisition of a property in Singapore for months, and it's falling apart at the eleventh hour."

"That's a shame."

"Yeah." He ran a hand through his hair in weariness and frustration.

"Six months of due diligence, negotiations, flying back and forth to meetings.

And now everything's going sideways. The seller's debt is worse than they disclosed, there are environmental issues with the building, and the asking price just doubled because another buyer entered the picture. "

Frank leaned against the car, giving him his full attention. "What does your gut tell you?"

"That's just it—I don't know anymore."

"Yes, you do. I worked with a lot of executives in my forty years as a corporate attorney, and I've seen men and women who do their research, investigate every alternative until they're sure they know exactly what they're doing.

I've also seen execs who have absolutely no substance, but they can hype, spin, and pretend like nobody's business.

They think short term, not long term. They want to win now, especially if it looks like a win.

They tell themselves they'll fix the other problems later or maybe not at all if nothing comes back to bite them in the ass. "

"I know that type," he admitted.

"I would venture to say you fall into the first category. Because I've seen you work on this car, and you don't go too fast, you don't cut corners."

"That's true."

"Your instincts are sound, Grayson. What are they telling you?

Should you keep throwing money and time at this project, telling yourself you've already invested too much to quit, or do you let it go?

Do you ask yourself if you were starting fresh today, knowing what you know now, would you still want to develop this property. "

He stared back at Frank, his words resonating. "That's a good question."

"See, the hard truth is," Frank continued, "your ideal plan—the one you fell in love with at the beginning—that's already gone.

What you're looking at now is a completely different animal.

The real decision isn't about whether you can salvage what you originally wanted.

It's whether this new version—this battered, expensive, problematic version—is something you'd choose to take on from scratch. "

"I'd be walking away from months of work. I'd have nothing to show for my time," he argued. "I can't quit."

"Then you'll have to keep plugging holes in a sinking ship.

Maybe you stop the ship from going under, but will that ship be something you're proud of?

" Frank picked up a rag and began wiping down his hands.

"There's a difference between persistence and stubbornness.

Persistence is when you keep working toward your goal despite obstacles.

Stubbornness is when you keep working toward a goal that no longer exists. "

He smiled. "That might be the best advice anyone has ever given me."

"Well, most people don't take my advice," Frank said with a laugh. "But you have it, for what it’s worth. Now, are you ready to get your hands dirty?"

Before he could answer, his gaze caught on Lexie walking through the parking lot, and his body tightened at the sight of her. She wore a simple white T-shirt knotted at her waist and denim shorts with frayed hems that showed off her tanned legs. She had a leather portfolio tucked under her arm.

"How's it going?" she asked, pausing a few feet away, her eyes moving between the two men.

"We just finished the final engine adjustments," Frank said.

As Frank added other details to expand on his answer, he found himself staring at Lexie. He couldn't hear what Frank was saying because his heart was pounding in his head. She was so damn beautiful. What the hell was he doing staying away from her?

Lexie's attention was wavering the longer Frank's answer went on, her gaze darting to his, and there was something electric in the air between them as they had an unspoken conversation.

He wanted to walk over to her, pull her close, and kiss her sweet, sexy mouth.

But he couldn't. Not with Frank watching, not with everything so complicated between them.

"Lexie?" Frank's voice turned sharper, breaking their connection.

"Yes?" she asked a little breathlessly.

"Are you coming to the car show tomorrow?" Frank asked, seemingly oblivious to the tension crackling between his two companions.

"Wouldn't miss it," Lexie replied, though her eyes never left Grayson's face. "I love seeing all the restored classics."

"Good. Grayson is going to ride with me in the parade."

She smiled. "That should be fun. I'll be sure to get a photo of that."

"Speaking of photos," he said, tipping his head toward her portfolio. "Are those the photographs you took at Joshua Tree?"

"It's a small selection of photos from the caves and Joshua Tree. I wanted to show the gallery what I'm working on."

"Can I see?" he asked, feeling a desperate need to keep her close.

"Sure."

She pulled out several prints, and both he and Frank stepped closer to take a look.

The first photo captured the twisted Joshua trees, the otherworldly rock formations, and the dramatic desert light.

The second photo was from the caves—not the one of him, but another of a gold chain hanging from a dark, rocky crevice, the contrast between the sparkle and the edgy darkness creating a story that everyone would want an answer to.

And the third photo was the most surprising.

It had been taken at the lodge he'd gone to investigate, the one with the faded neon sign, the cracked stucco and drained pool, the weed-filled former garden.

She'd captured something haunting and beautiful in its decay, with desert wildflowers growing through cracks in the concrete.

It was a place that could be brought back to life, full of possibility rather than just deterioration.

"Wow," he said quietly. "These are incredible." He wasn't just seeing the photos; he was seeing her in the images, her creativity, her unique way of looking at life.

"I agree," Frank said as she put the prints away. "I had no idea you were so talented, Lexie."

"Thanks, Frank. I'm excited about the direction my collection is taking. I'm starting to think maybe these photos are good enough to display."

"They're better than good," he told her. "They all tell a story."

"I think so, too," she said with excitement.

"As I was selecting the photos, the ones that resonated the most were the ones that came with a question, like where is this place, why is that gold chain stuck in a cave, and who lost it there?

Anyway, I'm getting carried away," she said. "I know they're just pictures."

"They're art," Frank said. "And you're allowed to be excited."

"Thanks. I better go. I have my day job to get to."

"What is it today?" he asked.

"I'm doing headshots for a corporation downtown. It will not be anywhere near as creative as this. But there will still be the challenge to make everyone look good, so I'm going to focus on how every job makes me better, no matter what it is."

"That's a good attitude."

"Dare I ask about your deal, Grayson?"

"It's still teetering on the edge of collapse, but I won't know anything more until Monday. So, I'm going to help Frank get this baby ready to roll."

"I'll let you get back to it."

He watched her walk into the building, and when he turned back to Frank, he saw a knowing gleam in the man's eyes.

"That girl is something special," Frank said.

"I can't disagree," he murmured, thinking about how her creative passion inspired him, how her laugh made something in his chest feel lighter.

How talking to her made him feel alive. How making love to her had taken every sense to a new height.

How impossible it was going to be to say goodbye to her when this was all over.