Page 14 of Shades of You (Calypso Key #4)

Chapter Fourteen

Hunter

The drill hummed steadily in my hands as I secured the last camera above the front door of Bookshop in Paradise. The morning breeze blew softly through the open door, making the hanging baskets outside rock slightly. I leaned back slightly on the ladder and surveyed my work with a critical eye. Everything had to be perfect for Brenna.

“Do you want to put cameras inside my apartment too?” Her voice cut through my focus, laced with a hint of concern.

I glanced down at her, offering a reassuring smile. “No, only a camera and alarm outside the door at the top of the stairs.”

My fingers deftly twisted wires together, wrapping them with electrical tape before tucking them neatly out of sight. After that awful awkwardness last night, we’d settled back into an easier camaraderie. Not quite what we were before that kiss, but better than I had any right to expect. Spoken words had never been my strength, and last night they’d completely failed me. But I’d rather remain silent than say something I couldn’t take back. I’d already done enough of that, and our ease with each other this morning indicated I’d repaired some of the damage I’d done. But now I felt her mood changing.

“Good… What about your apartment? Do you have cameras there?”

I caught her hesitation and gave her my full attention. Her green eyes searched mine, and I knew she was worried whether she’d been filmed while staying with me.

“None inside. I value privacy, Brenna. Yours, mine, everyone’s.” I made a mental note to double-check the angles of the cameras I’d just installed, ensuring not even a sliver of her personal space would be caught on camera. After descending from my stepladder, I folded it together and moved to the control panel at the back of her shop.

Brenna followed, leaning against a bookshelf as she watched me program the system from her phone, all part of the service at KeyMark Security. I showed her how to access the images and the panic button I’d installed near the cash register, which would make a 911 call. She asked interested, intelligent questions and we slipped closer to our earlier familiarity.

“I wanted to ask…” she trailed off as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Then she turned a full smile toward me. “Would you like to go diving tomorrow? We didn’t really settle it last night. It will be like old times!”

My heart skipped a beat, torn between the pull of her beautiful, soft body and the caution lights flashing in my mind. Diving with Brenna meant being close to her, too close, in ways that could stir up more than just the ocean currents.

“I’m not sure. I didn’t have a chance to check my calendar this morning.” I was half-hoping she’d let me off the hook.

“When was the last day you had off?” she asked, her lips curving into a playful smile. “And Garrett told me he and Myles aren’t covering Calypso Key anymore. Sounds like your schedule just cleared up, buddy. And my shop just happens to be closed tomorrow…”

She was right. Myles would be pretty recovered from his night shifts now. I had some leads to follow through on, but I could clear a morning off no problem. And dammit, I wanted to be around her, even as just a friend. I was like a moon orbiting around her, helpless to escape her pull. To cover my awkwardness, I raised both hands into the air. “Okay. I surrender! Let’s go diving.”

“Great!” Her enthusiasm was infectious as she told me about the gear she had arranged for us. But as I went over the last of my demonstration of her new security features, I couldn’t help feeling like I was stepping into uncharted waters.

I glanced at my watch. “You’re all set. I’d better get going. I need to catch up on some things and make sure I’m clear tomorrow since the boss gave me orders.”

Her answering smile went straight to my heart. This might be a terrible idea, but I wasn’t about to change my mind and see her beautiful expression fall.

“See you tomorrow.” Her gaze lingered on mine a moment longer than necessary. The words hung between us like a promise or maybe a warning.

Back at KeyMark, I settled into the familiar groove of work. The screen’s glow bathed the room as I flicked through leads—emails from potential clients in need of security assessments, and a few inquiries about personal protection. I made a series of phone calls, reaching out to current and prospective clients.

“I just got off the phone with a Mrs. Renaldi, who wants surveillance on her beach house while she’s away,” I said to Garrett, tapping keys to pull up her file. “High-profile, lots of valuables. I want you on it.”

“Got it.” His reply was crisp, no-nonsense. “I’ll call her and set up the walkthrough.”

“Make sure to use the new cams for this one and keep it tight. She’s nervous, first time leaving the place since her husband passed.”

“No worries.”

I trusted Garrett implicitly. He handled each job with a finesse that came from experience. We’d been through enough together to have an unspoken language of glances and gestures, which translated into our professional life. And the same went with Myles, my other brother-in-arms turned employee.

“Myles will be recovered from vampire duty by tomorrow,” I said, referring to our phrase for overnight work. I’d already talked to him. “He’ll be here first thing tomorrow morning.”

Garrett filed away a folder and shut his desk drawer. “Sounds like we’ve enough business to keep us out of trouble, even without covering nights.”

I nodded. “KeyMark’s doing fine. There’s plenty of work to go around, even without my family drama.”

“Always knew you’d kill it when you went solo.” Garrett’s voice held a note of pride.

“Thanks.” I paused, trying to think of a good way to tell him I’d be off tomorrow. And why. “Myles is covering for me tomorrow. I’m going diving.”

“Really? About time you did something enjoyable. Are you going with your sister, the divemaster?”

“Uh, no. Brenna.”

Garrett just stared at me. Then he gave me a slow nod. “Say no more. Nice work.”

I scowled at him. “It’s not a date. We decided to be just friends.”

Laughing, Garrett pushed to his feet. “Keep telling yourself that, man. I’d better get to work. See you later.”

After the front door closed, I leaned back in my chair and stared out the front window. Main Street glinted under the sun, a world away from spreadsheets and strategy. Try as I might to deny it, Garrett might be right about the futility of me keeping things casual with Brenna. I was still terribly conflicted about seeing her tomorrow, and what it might lead to. A mix of anticipation and anxiety fluttered in my stomach, though I had a feeling eagerness to see her again would win out.

But as long as Brenna wasn’t involved, I was a man of discipline, and break time was over. When I returned to my office, my eye caught on my catcher’s mitt sitting on a chair in the corner and my stomach did a weird floppy thing. I had a couple of hours yet before practice. A momentous practice, but I couldn’t afford to be distracted now. Opening my email program, I got back to work.

The freshly cut grass smelled sharp and vibrant as I strapped on my shin guards, and a refreshing breeze stirred the palm fronds edging the outfield. “Hey, Hunter, heads up!” Stella called out, tossing me my catcher’s mitt.

“Thanks,” I said, flexing the leather in my grip.

The Stingrays were a motley crew of family and resort employees. And me. But we’d gelled into a good team, and our practices and games were filled with good-natured ribbing and insults.

But today was different. The atmosphere this afternoon had been charged from the start, and now it reached a new peak as Evan stepped to the plate—a subtle current of hope that was nearly tangible.

“Take it easy on him, Gabe,” Maia joked from first base.

“Oh, Evan knows me better than that,” Gabe replied, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Evan held the bat, his stance tense. His nervousness was obvious even from behind my mask. As he fidgeted with the grip, his eyes flicked around the field.

“Ready?” Gabe asked. When Evan gave a jerk of a nod, he wound up for the pitch.

The ball came in easy, and Evan’s swing was tentative, sending a slow grounder toward Maia, who scooped it up effortlessly. A murmur of encouragement rippled through the team as two more pitches had similar results.

“Okay, okay, warm-up’s over,” Gabe called out, throwing a little more heat with the next pitch.

Evan adjusted, the half-hearted swings morphing into something sharper, more focused. It was like watching an old engine rumbling back to life, each swing bringing him closer to the player we knew he could be.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Gabe asked and I grinned, knowing Evan couldn’t see it. Gabe managed Evan beautifully, slowly building his confidence and now baiting him. From the mound, he shook his head. “I thought you could play.”

“Just pitch the ball, asshole,” came Evan’s growl of a reply .

Gabe pitched to him at full speed and Evan swung hard. The crack of the bat resonated like a shot, the ball rocketing straight back at Gabe and missing him by inches. He jumped out of the way, and we all erupted into laughter as Gabe theatrically checked himself for injuries.

“Damn, Evan! You trying to take me out?” Gabe exclaimed, still smiling wickedly as he caught the ball Aiden tossed him.

“Nope,” Evan shot back with a matching grin. “If I wanted you out, you’d be out.”

The tension broke, and the practice rolled on with newfound ease. As I crouched behind home plate, pride swelled in my chest. Evan was stepping back into the game, into life itself, and I was here to witness it.

He sent the next pitch streaking along the baseline. Then one into the gap between first and second. He hit the next sharply, lacing it between second and chef Martin at shortstop. The next two were long fly balls that dropped where the outfielders couldn’t catch them, including Liv in right field. Aiden, stationed at third, could only gape as another line drive whizzed past him, his glove swinging up a moment too late.

“Nice, Evan!” Stella’s voice rang out from second base, her athletic form poised and ready. He hit the next ball directly to her, letting her field it cleanly. Her cheer felt like a bright flag waving amidst our collective awe.

I squatted behind home plate, my heart thrumming in rhythm with each precise hit Evan executed. What had started as a tentative experiment became a spectacle, a masterclass in control and power. Each swing sliced away more of the years he’d been absent from the game.

Memories flooded back to me. The countless afternoons we’d spent on fields just like this one, where I was the only challenger willing to step up to the plate because Evan was so damn good. I remembered the ice packs, the bruises on my palms from catching his fireballs, the pride I felt being his brother.

Now, the longing for that connection—a bond frayed by time and circumstance—pulled taut within me. I wanted to reach across the years and mend the threads I’d let unravel, to be the boys who understood each other without words. Evan’s last drive arced high, then plummeted down just inside the third-base line, a perfect hit. As the team clapped and hollered, I rose to my feet and flipped my mask back to rest against the crown of my head.

“Well, you’ve still got it,” I said, my voice tinged with admiration.

Hesitating, his eyes scanned mine, searching for a catch that wasn’t there. Then, slowly, the edges of his mouth lifted in a smile. It was a fragile, yet pivotal moment in the slow dance of our reconciliation. “Thanks, Hunter. That felt good. Really good.”

“Because it was.”

“Hey, Evan! Think you could teach me that swing?” called out Aiden, his lanky frame standing with one foot on third base.

“Sure,” Evan replied, the ghost of a smile remaining on his lips. “It’s easy. Just don’t play for a decade.”

Laughter rippled through the team, and Stella, still at second, threw in her two cents. “Don’t tease him, Evan. Or you’ll end up being our manager instead of Maia.”

“Hey!” Maia called. “I like being the manager. Evan, you just back off.”

This time, Evan’s smile could have cracked his face. He was back where he belonged. Part of a team, where the camaraderie was thick in the air. It was clear we all felt it— Evan’s return wasn’t just his victory. It was a win for all of us.

When practice ended, Gabe trotted up to the plate, rolling his shoulder with a wince. As I rose from my crouch, he faced Evan. “You know, if you ever want to try pitching again, I’d gladly hand over the mound.”

Evan widened his eyes at the suggestion, his hand rising as if to ward off the very thought. “Pitch? Nah, I couldn’t hit the broadside of a barn. Hitting’s one thing—pitching is completely different.”

I knew full well that Evan could probably out-pitch anyone in the league, decade off or not. But I kept my mouth shut. Pitching for him would be more than just throwing a ball—it was bearing the weight of every eye on you, every expectation resting on your shoulders. For Evan, that would be like stepping right into a hurricane.

April rose from her camp chair behind the backstop and approached us. “Come on, Gabe. Let’s get you home and get some ice on that shoulder.” She linked her arm through Gabe’s and shot us a knowing look, her other hand resting on the swell of her belly.

“As long as the ice is on my shoulder and not in my whisky,” Gabe replied, his smile softening as he glanced down at her.

They walked off together in a picture of contentment, leaving the rest of us to bask in the glow of a practice that felt like more than just practice—it felt like the turning of a page.

I clapped the dust off my glove, watching how much more relaxed Evan was, how his shoulders had eased down from where they’d hitched up around his ears. I spoke before I could change my mind, even though I knew my words were risky. “Hey, Evan. If you ever want to throw the ball around, really pitch, I’m game.” I tossed my mitt from one hand to another, a casual offer lobbed into the charged air between us.

He met my gaze, his eyes steady and unreadable for a moment that seemed to stretch longer than the shadows creeping across the outfield. Then, with a slow nod that felt like a victory in itself, he said, “Maybe. I’ll let you know.”

That was enough for me—it was an open door, no matter how slight the crack. As he walked off the field with Liv, the others patted him on the back. I felt like we were all part of something fragile yet fierce.

With the day fading into a painted sky, I returned to my Range Rover and headed back to Dove Key. Brenna would be closing up the shop right about now, her hands brushing against the spines of beloved novels, hair falling across her face in that way that always made me want to reach out and tuck it behind her ear. I missed her already, the way you miss the sun when it dips below the horizon, leaving you longing for its warmth.

The road hummed beneath my tires as I navigated the familiar turns back to my place. A thrill rolled through me. Not just for the dive tomorrow, but for whatever lay ahead with Brenna. Could I really keep up a casual friendship with her? Tomorrow would be a minefield of possibilities and danger. I wasn’t the man she deserved. Hell, I was probably the last man she needed in her life. Yet at the same time, I couldn’t stay away from her. And I had yet to figure out how I was going to reconcile that.