Page 3 of Hargrave Health Kick (Brookwell Island)

Nash laughed outright. “I’m sorry your guest is upset, but there’s not a lot we can do.”

“No problem,” she assured him. “Had to call and ask. I’ll just tamp down this mulch.”

“Sounds good. I haven’t seen any signs of rabbits nesting there, so I suspect last night was just a one-off. Honestly Veronica, with the extra security in that area I’m surprised you’ve got any wildlife activity at all right now.”

“Well, as long as you’re not seeing any signs of a rodent problem, that’s good enough for me today. I appreciate the assist.”

“Sure thing,” he replied. “Have a good one.”

“You too.”

Veronica almost chickened out and texted Marley instead of Susannah with the update.

But the chef had asked Veronica to investigate, not the assistant.

So once again she leaned into all her professional lessons and let Susannah know there didn’t seem to be a vermin problem to fix.

She assured her it had been just a random occurrence.

The reply that came back was terse, but not scathing.

Veronica counted it a win as she quickly walked back to her car to avoid any further drama with the guests.

Never meet your heroes . She spared one last glance toward the Cove that used to belong to the Hargrave family exclusively.

Not much sense in pouting. She lived on a phenomenal island with a gorgeous public beach. No, she wouldn’t have the privacy, but she’d have the ocean. Besides, privacy right now might give her too much room to indulge in her grumpy mood.

She made the quick drive into Brookwell proper and was soon walking on the beach trying to trade her gloomy, unsettled thoughts for something more inspired.

She wasn’t sure why this entire week bothered her so much.

It wasn’t as if the content she was building was hindered significantly by being on call for the guests at the Hideaway.

Her client notes were up to date, she was making her appointments, and she was ahead of schedule on her video content.

And yet something felt significantly off lately.

It shouldn’t. Which made it feel so much worse. The B&B was good. The whole house rental system had taken a load off all the sisters, especially Celeste. They could still provide the signature Hargrave hospitality without being on hand constantly.

Her own business was going well, though she sensed room for growth. Just as soon as she pinpointed how to get there. Maybe she was simply being impatient, expecting too much from herself too soon.

Hearing the fast pattern of footsteps behind her, she braced for a runner to pass by.

And he did. Shirtless, his tanned skin glowed with sweat in the afternoon sun.

As his long stride carried him away from her, she noticed the way his muscles moved, and admired that he was diligent about keeping his line just outside of the tide.

Those micro adjustments as his feet landed in the wet sand would be a good workout for all the muscles no one ever thought to train specifically.

There were times when she really should turn off her job brain. There wasn’t anyone nearby who could mistake her focus as ogling him, specifically. He was, after all, running while in her line of sight. The only way to not see him would be to turn around.

She wasn’t quite ready to do that yet. She took note of the landmarks, almost wishing she had taken the time to grab her own running gear.

She really should film some fresh b-roll out here.

One of these days, she needed to enlist Natalie’s help to record some workouts here at the beach or near the Hideaway when they didn’t have guests.

She wasn’t making the most of what made this area special. Most of her videos were set in her own backyard or studio space in the house. She had a few walking and standing sequences, but they were old. Still helpful, but fresh content was better.

Maybe she should do a daily yoga challenge. Letting the idea sprout, she could envision a series of videos with the backdrop of the sunrise, the pulse of the tide. Plenty of fitness experts had done similar stuff, but she could put her spin on the concept.

She sat down in the sand as more ideas started trickling in until they were flowing like a current. She could add some nutrition videos to the rotation on her channel. She could see her audience getting excited about easy recipes to improve recovery or boost energy without an excess of added sugar.

And she didn’t need a collaboration with someone like Susannah to make that happen. The videos would take off or they wouldn’t. Either way, they would be assests she could share with her followers and her clients.

Too bad she didn’t have her phone with her to make some notes, but she trusted the ideas to be there when she could jot them down. Implementing these small, key shifts to the plan was smart. The fresh-take would help her feel current and connected to the folks who followed her.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t notice the man approaching until his shadow fell across her feet. Running shoes and a t-shirt dropped to the sand beside him. “Veronica Hargrave. It is you. Good grief. How long has it been?”

The familiar voice rumbled at a deeper register than she remembered. Shielding her eyes with her hand, she peered up into the face of one of her best friends. “Holy cow.” She popped to her feet. “Brayden Leggett? Is this sunstroke? I must be hallucinating.”

He shoved a hand through his hair. “You’re still not funny.”

“Only because you still haven’t found a sense of humor.” She didn’t recall her best friend from high school having any ties to this island. Back in the day, the two of them would complain about being separated over summer breaks, seeing each other only at training camps for their various sports.

He pulled her into a big hug. The difference gave her a jolt.

He’d matured, of course. That’s what time did.

She recognized his masculine scent, though it had never caused this kind of flutter low in her belly before.

The warmth and strength of his arms was the same.

It took some willpower to step back rather than cuddle closer.

She chalked up her reaction to the shock of him being right here, in a place they had never been together.

“Can’t handle the sweat?” he teased as she stepped out of the embrace.

She smacked his shoulder. “Where’s your shirt?”

“We’re on a beach.” He ran a hand down his chest. “Is it distracting?”

Yes . But admitting it would only pump up his already oversized ego. Although he had valid reason to be proud of his physique. “Shut up,” she scolded. “What are you doing here? The last time I saw you was at the reunion.”

He swore. “Wasn’t that a mess?”

“Absolutely.” She laughed. “Are you still in the military?”

“I’ve been out for about a year.” He planted his hands on his hips. “We really don’t talk enough. Where’s your phone? I’ll put my number in.”

She jerked her thumb toward the parking lot. “Back in the car.”

His brow dipped low over a nose with quite a bit of character since he’d taken a baseball to the face in their junior year. “Roni? You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She waved off his concern.

“I’m shocked,” he said, clearly joking. “Who would believe I found online sensation Veronica Hargrave without her phone?”

“Stop it,” she complained. “I’m not that bad.”

He huffed. “The only thing you post is professional content,” he said. “I haven’t seen anything of a personal nature since you guys started the B&B.”

His critique got under her skin. Yes, her business pages were about training and fitness. And the three of them rotated content for the pages dedicated to the B&B itself. But she connected with friends online. At least she thought she did.

“You’re keeping tabs on me?”

“Hell, yeah. Especially now.”

She did a double take. “What does that mean?”

“I’m with the Guardian Agency now.” He beamed like he’d won gold at the Olympics. “They gave me a better deal than re-upping. When I heard about an opening here, I jumped on it so I could make sure you didn’t become a statistic.”

“You’re talking about the fire? That was Celeste. She’s fine now.” Thank goodness.

“That was all of you,” he corrected. “You own the place together.”

“You just wanted to see the summer house I bragged about.”

He folded his arms and stared down at her over that rocky path of a nose. “Won’t deny that was part of it. You went on and on about having your own private beach.”

“And yet here I am.” She spread her arms wide. “Because that beach isn’t just for Hargraves anymore.”

“Whoa. I’ve never heard you bitter.”

She scrubbed at her face. “I’m not really.” Before she registered what was happening, they were walking toward the public parking. Just like old times, he put her at ease and coaxed the whole story out of her.

“It’s a day, that’s all. We have a difficult guest in residence. Not a real problem child. Just someone going through some crap. Cancer,” she blurted.

In her opinion, it was always better to say it clearly. Dancing around the topic or whispering the word as if the disease might hear you just pissed her off.

“I’ve got a bunch of stuff on my mind and the demanding guest made me realize that we should block out more time for the Hideaway to just be the sister house. I didn’t think I’d miss the access as much as I do.”

“I get it. We never know what we have until it’s gone.”

She glanced up at his wistful tone, wondering who he’d lost. Because that was the kind of thing people said when they’d dealt with pain and heartache on a soul-deep level. “Do you want to talk about it? You know I’m a good listener.”

“I remember.” His strong shoulders tensed up as he gazed out over the horizon. “Not today.”

She respected the boundary. “Care to share more details about what you’ve been up to lately?

“That’s easy. The Guardian Agency is the best,” he gushed. “Military precision with private industry pay and excellent benefits. Better travel destinations too.” He grinned. “I didn’t think this was what I wanted. Now that I’m in it, I can’t think of a better fit for me.”

“Good for you,” she said. “And good for us to have you watching over our little B&B.”

He snorted. “Little? I’ve been over there already. Jess Keller—Billings—gave me a tour so I could fill in for one of your usual guys.”

Jess had grown up out here. Though she’d moved away, when she returned, she’d sunk deep roots. Marrying Nash, starting a family, and taking on the role of regional coordinator for the Guardian Agency. With a little luck, Veronica might get some insider intel on Brayden’s arrival.

“You had every reason to brag,” Brayden was saying. “That’s some place you’ve got out there.”

“Thank you, I think.”

“Pretty sure you normally would’ve heard the compliment,” he joked. “You are in a mood.”

There was comfort in having a friend who knew her so well.

He hooked his arm with hers. “I know how to cheer you up. How about dinner tomorrow?”

Skin to skin, he was even more intense. Dinner was a great idea.

She couldn’t think of a single restaurant on the island that didn’t require shirts.

Because Brayden had always been fit, but now he was a shredded, imposing man.

Natalie had been hassling her about not going out enough.

It sucked big time that her little sister was right.

“Can’t tomorrow.” She eased away, too afraid she’d start to cling. She’d kept her hands to herself when they were in school, but the temptation to touch him all over right now was daunting.

“What about the day after?”

“Working.” He shrugged. “We’ll figure it out before I leave.”

Leave ? He’d just arrived. She didn’t want to let go of her best friend again so quickly. “Where are you staying?”

“They’ve got me at the Inn,” he said, laughing. “But only for a night or two. Let me get a feel for the routine and then I’ll know where to make time for my personal life.”

As they walked away from the beach, the warm, dry sand scrubbed at her feet.

“No worries.” She smiled to herself as they crossed the boardwalk spanning the dunes.

Breathing deeply, she reveled in the sweet differences as the ocean air was filtered through the tall, swaying grasses. “You’ll love the Inn.”

“Come on, I’m not that guy.”

“What guy?”

“The guy who goes for fancy. Although, I wouldn’t mind some time at the Hideaway.”

“We’ll make sure you get a full tour. You could book your own vacation. I’ll give you the family discount.”

“Look at you, Ms. Entrepreneur.”

She snorted. That wasn’t how she meant it to come across. She paused to slip into her sandals before crossing the parking lot, but Brayden continued to go barefoot, carrying his running shoes in one hand, his shirt slung over his shoulder.

“Here,” he pulled his phone from a back pocket and handed it to her. “Put your info in my phone and I’ll text you.”

While she did, he pulled his shirt over his head. Finally.