The Key to Paradise (9 page)

In my fascination, I hadn’t been paying attention to how far I was drifting until the sea grass gave way to sand again. Here, with no places to hide, the fish were less abundant. Only a few stragglers circled the edges never straying far from the safety of the sheltering green. But there was one large shadow lurking just on the edge of my vision hanging motionless in the water. My heart caught in my throat for a brief moment as images gleaned from decades of watching Shark Week danced through my head.

The shape remained completely still facing away from me. Only a slight movement of the tail now and then proved that it wasn’t a hulking figment of my imagination. As I got my nerves under control I realized that the shape was all wrong. This fish was long and slender like a missile, not the rounded heft of Jaws.

I giggled through my snorkel. It was a tarpon like the ones Landon had shown me that night on the pier. I could clearly see the shining silver scales now that I was looking closer, so different from the dull gleam of sharkskin.

I eased over towards the tail imagining how I would tell my old friends in California that I swam with a five foot long fish fearlessly. Sure, I might not have the white picket fence, 2.5 kids and golden retriever like they did but this was even better. I was Olivia Campbell, woman of danger and adventure. Maybe I’d take up rock climbing next.

I moved slowly alongside the tarpon taking in every inch of this exciting new experience when a frantic tugging started on my flipper pinning me in place. I turned to see Landon with my flipper in his hand shaking his head dramatically, his eyes were wide behind his mask. I turned back to the tarpon and just at that moment its oversized eye rolled and locked onto me. Where the snub-nosed frown of the tarpon should be was an elongated snout. I could see scraggly teeth gleaming between its jaws.

That is not a tarpon!
My survival instinct went into overdrive and I pulled back so fast I almost kicked Landon in the face.
Not a tarpon, not a tarpon.
The fish watched me go, its eye following me as I retreated. I was too scared to turn my back on it forcing me to escape awkwardly waving my hands like a back-peddling madwoman. Only when I managed to get a good fifteen feet away was I confident that, whatever that prehistoric beast was, it wasn’t going to follow.

“Are you out of your mind?” Landon said collapsing down onto the sand half shocked and half laughing after we escaped.

“That was not a tarpon.” I managed to gasp ripping off my own mask and falling down beside him.

“No,” He said in a tone reserved for small children and the particularly slow-witted. “That was a barracuda and one of the biggest ones I’ve seen in years.”

“Definitely not a tarpon. Definitely not a tarpon.” Maybe he was right to talk to me like I was stupid. The words I could manage were making me sound like Rain Man.

“You’re so lucky you didn’t piss it off.”

Barracuda. I knew they were some dangerous type of fishy predator but my knowledge didn’t extend beyond that unless you counted knowing all the lyrics to the Heart song with the same name. I was pretty sure that wouldn’t count with Landon.

“Are they dangerous?”

“Well, they won’t kill you but he could have given you a nasty bite if he felt threatened or mistook you for a fish. You know, I’ve been snorkeling here my whole life and never seen one over two feet on these grass beds. How do you manage to go out on your first time and find yourself face to face with the Barracuda King?”

“It’s a special talent I guess.”

“You do keep things interesting.”

Chapter Twelve

Landon

I had a newfound respect for her as I sat at the kitchen table with overflowing stacks of paperwork threatening to spill over onto the linoleum floor. Each form came with different instructions: “Use black pen, use blue pen, fill out in triplicate, do not staple!”

I wanted nothing more than to drop my head onto the table and fall asleep. It had been three weeks since our impromptu snorkeling trip. Three weeks since my last day off and every day had been spent working my fingers to the bone.

We had comforted ourselves in the beginning. The constant refrain of “It’s actually very small as far as hotels go,” and “It’s in wonderful shape for being closed so long,” could be heard the whole first week. After that reality set in.

I had been working as a Jack-of-all-trades handyman for years, ever since I came back from college and found out how badly we needed the money. But even with my experience, I wasn’t prepared for just how much work went into getting a resort up and running. There were constant issues with outdated plumbing, shoddy electrical, and a whole assortment of animals living in every corner of the resort. And those were the emergencies. They didn’t include scrubbing through fifty years of grime, installing new bathrooms, painting every square inch, new doors, new moldings, new locks. Even as we put in twelve hours a day ticking off boxes the list of things to do just seemed to grow.

All of our nerves were frayed. We were running on fumes. Verna and Ellen had started passing their flasks back and forth with increased frequency while Lois and Lily muttered mutinously. Last week Liv had snapped on the phone with a supplier when he tried to tell her it would take three weeks to have the new interior doors delivered. Words came out of her mouth that would make a marine blush.

On top of everything else, I was coming home every night to these stacks of forms required to form and operate a tour company. When I had first had the idea I thought the hardest part was going to be getting Olivia on board. I knew tours with an ecological focus didn’t exactly mesh with her idea of a glamorous resort. Surprisingly, she had jumped at the idea and now I had to step up to the plate and follow through.

I knew Liv had gone through all of this when she opened the resort and I had no idea how she did it. The tiny black print all seemed to swim together. The instructions completely contradicted themselves over and over and I would swear that whenever I took my eyes off of them the forms were reproducing. Still, this was important—crucial even—and I was going to have to handle it.

I still had my reservations about opening up the resort but from the moment I saw that determined gleam in her eyes I knew fighting was about as useful as trying to hold back the tide. I had never met anyone with more perseverance and sheer willpower. Liv would blunder ahead and get what she wanted come hell or high water.

For me, the one saving grace was that we could at least minimize the impact of the tourists on the island. I had seen the devastation people can wreak with their carelessness and selfishness. I had plenty of firsthand experience with that but for the first time I was seeing another side of that equation. I could still see Liv’s startled eyes as she gazed down at the fish swimming off the end of the pier. I remembered how she had been within kissing distance of a barracuda terrified but still fascinated. The more she experienced the more she loved this island. Was it possible that the same could happen for her tourists or was it some quality unique to her that made her open her heart freely to this place? I was hoping that it was the former.

A knock on the kitchen door startled me out of my reverie. Jack came traipsing inside with a six pack under one arm.

“Verna called me,” he said by way of greeting.

“And what did she have to say?” Dozens of little pops sounded down my spine as I straightened up.

“Well first she asked me if I had a date tonight. When I told her I didn’t she asked if I wanted one.”

I snorted softly.

“Then,” Jack continued. “When I told her I thought she might be too much woman for me to handle she suggested I come down here instead. Said you were looking worn to the bone and could use a break.”

“I can’t take a break. I have so much to do still.” I motioned to the stacks of paper in front of me.

“Landon, if you don’t sit with me for an hour or two and drink this beer I’m going to have to take Verna on a date. Do your friend a favor.”

I was hardly in a social mood but there was no saying ‘no’ to Jack. He knew all the buttons to push to get me to agree with whatever he wanted. He’d always been that way even when he was just another devilish boy running half wild through the Keys. He was the type of person who good luck seemed to follow like a loyal dog. He worked half the year as a charter boat captain but never seemed short on funds for a modest bachelor lifestyle. Everyone genuinely liked Jack because Jack genuinely liked everyone back. It was an easy talent he had for interacting with people that I’d never developed.

“Since I know I can’t convince you to leave, take a seat.” I leaned back and motioned to the other battered kitchen chair. Jack pulled out two beers, cracking each one open and sliding one over to me.

“So what’s all this? Permits?” He waved his hand across the stacks of paper.

“Yeah, but not the kind you’re thinking of. Not construction permits.”

Jack picked one up and started to read. “This is an application for a business license. Have you caught the entrepreneurial spirit going around these days?”

I groaned and leaned back in my chair. “To be totally honest I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I suggested to Liv that we offer eco-tours at The Sea Watch and she asked me to head it as an outside contractor.”

“You’re really getting pulled into this whole thing, huh?”

“If I had known it would be this much work…” I started but Jack just grinned.

“You still would have done it when she gave you one look with those big dark eyes,” he finished.

“It’s not like that.”

“Of course it’s like that. When even an oblivious bachelor like me can see what’s going on you know there’s something there. Hell, you two are the talk of the island. I heard Mort Kellerton was taking bets down at the bingo hall on when you two would finally seal the deal.”

“You’re kidding…”

“Only kind of.”

I took another long swig of my beer. I knew gossip was a time-honored tradition in Tamarind Key but it made me uncomfortable to know the hot topic of conversation was me—or, more specifically—my love life.

“There’s only one solution,” I said. “You’re going to have to get married.”

Jack practically spat out his beer in surprise before stuttering, “Wait, what?”

“The gossip about me will only end if something even juicier takes its place and what could be juicier than Tamarind’s confirmed tomcat settling down and getting married?”

“Landon, I love you like a brother. I would take a bullet for you but that is one grenade Jack Wilson will not be jumping on.”

“Why not? Eventually someone in that string of girlfriends you keep has to be the one to tie you down.”

Silence reigned as we both sat lost in our own thoughts until Jack finally spoke. “Hey Lan, do you think this is what other guys do? Hang around and talk about their love lives?”

“I don’t know. It seems like a sappy country song, doesn’t it? What else is there to talk about?”

“Sports?”

“Do you watch any sports?”

“Not really.”

“Huh…”

After Jack left I turned back to my paperwork with an optimistic heart. I plowed through three more sets of forms before the clock above the stove flashed midnight and I finally decided to drag myself off to bed. I fell down into the clean sheets and went out like a light.

The next morning the blaring of my alarm yanked me out of sleep at six am. Every muscle in my body was stiff and aching as I managed to claw my way up and out of bed. It was the start of another beautiful day in Tamarind Key.

Chapter Thirteen

Olivia

It was a beast. A monster of monumental proportions. A prehistoric relic lying in ambush on the bathroom floor. Its grotesque legs twitched once and the bristly hairs that covered them swayed with knowing malice. Its black soulless eyes regarded me and marked me as prey. There was nothing I could do except save myself. I screeched in complete horror and ran, slamming the door tight behind me.

“What is it? What’s the matter? Are you hurt?” Landon appeared in the hallway. His eyes were wide with shock and concern. He grabbed my hands inspecting them for injuries finger by trembling finger.

I couldn’t form words. All I could do was silently point to the bathroom with shaking hands. Landon stepped towards the looming door slowly while I backed away one step for his every step forward. Before I would have said that I was a brave and stout companion in the face of danger but nothing could have prepared me for what lurked inside that bathroom waiting with an ancient hunger for flesh.

Landon turned the knob with an aching slowness and the fluorescent light from the bathroom streamed across the bedroom carpet. I watched the smooth muscles of his back tense and then relax.

“Are you kidding me?” He asked, laughter rising in his voice. “It’s a palmetto bug. More than that it’s a
dead
palmetto bug. All you had to do was pick it up with some toilet paper and flush it!” Landon stepped quickly and calmly into the breach. I waited with bated breath while the purr of the toilet paper roll sounded in the small room.

Landon screeched suddenly, his voice rising an octave with every sentence. “Ok! Not dead!
Not
dead!” I took two quick steps forward and slammed the door behind him, hurriedly stuffing a towel into the crack beneath it before the creature could slither out. Of course any slithering would happen after it devoured Landon bones and all.

“Come back with your shield or on it, Landon! With your shield or on it!” I cried echoing the famous words repeated to Spartan soldiers as they went forth into battle. I’d like to think it gave him some courage.

The seconds ticked by, each seeming as long as an eon until finally Landon emerged with all his limbs surprisingly intact and a triumphant smile playing across his handsome face. My respect for him instantly went up a notch.

“Hail to the conquering hero.”

We decided to sit around the newly built fire pit after deciding to call it a day. I could only take so many encounters with prehistoric beasts before my nerves finally cracked. The small flames of our driftwood fire were almost as warm as the taste of the rum currently sitting heavily in my belly.

“You are the most ridiculous person I have ever met.”

“You were scared too. Admit it.”

“Alright. Creepy crawlies are not my favorite.”

“You? Mr. Wilderness? Mr. Friend of Bird and Beast?” I said with a teasing, sarcastic smile.

“You kid now but wait until the Golden Orb Weavers come out.”

“What are Golden Orb Weavers? That sounds kind of pretty.” The image of diaphanous balls of golden light rose in my mind.

“They’re spiders as big as your hand with webs fifteen feet across.”

“Have you ever considered just burning the entire island to the ground and starting over?” I asked shuddering at the mental image of a Godzilla spider.

He laughed softly as he turned his plastic cup full of rum in his wide, rough palms. He hadn’t shaved that morning and the dark bristle of his five o’clock shadow stood out on the sharp planes of his cheeks. I resisted the urge to reach out and feel it rasp beneath my palm. My God, I needed to get laid if I was seriously considering caressing Landon Fitzpatrick’s stubbly face.

When I looked back up from his strong chin he was watching me watch him with a bemused expression. I blushed instantly cursing myself for my wayward thoughts. Apparently the rum was going to my head. Or perhaps this was some ancient, instinctual affirmation of life after a near death experience. Either way, I had to get control of my hormones.

“You know, you’re stronger than you think.”

I was so focused on keeping myself settled that his words took a few seconds to register. “What do you mean?”

“I mean whatever happened to you that made you doubt yourself, it’s wrong. You’re a strong woman.”

“I don’t know. A giant cockroach had me weak at the knees today.” I said blustering through the uncomfortable feelings welling in my chest. Landon Fitzpatrick had just paid me a compliment.
Kiss him
, my impetuous inner voice whispered and I struggled to fight her animal urges.

“It was a really big cockroach.”

“You know, you’re not as big of a jerk as you pretend to be.”

Landon looked at me grinning. “I think that might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Don’t get too used to it.” I said grinning back. Over the past few weeks Landon and I had managed to scrape together a kind of cautious friendship. Sexual tension aside, I was grateful. My social life had been sadly geriatric these past few months.

As if on cue, Nana stepped through the wide French doors of the main lobby. Immediately after spotting Landon and me sitting together she snuck back inside on exaggerated tip toes. The weird thing was, her constant attempts at matchmaking didn’t grate the way they once had.

“What do you think about playing hooky tomorrow?” Landon’s question broke through my thoughts and called me back to the moment.

“Hooky? Like skipping school?”

“Yeah, we’ve been working our fingers to the bone. Let’s take a day off to relax. I’ll take you out on my boat.” He waggled his eyebrows jokingly as he tried to convince me. “I promise to protect you if any more barracuda show up.”

All the work left before opening day still loomed large in my mind but the more seductive image of lying out in the sun on the deck of Landon’s boat was more appealing. There was also the matter of that itty bitty black bikini hanging in the back of my closet. I had picked it up last weekend at Beall’s and if anything could erase the image of me in Nana’s bathing suit from Landon’s mind, it was
that.

“Sounds good. Meet me here?”

“Pick you up at eleven.”

“I’ll bring the beer.”

I leaned back in the thick cushions and gazed into the dancing flames of the fire. Small golden sparks rose on the updrafts to the darkening skies where the first few stars of the evening were shining. Things were finally starting to look up.

The next morning was one of those beautiful cloudless days when the sky seemed to stretch endlessly overhead in an arching, dazzling, blue dome. There was a soft breeze on the beach where I waited for Landon. It ruffled playfully against the hem of my new sundress. I was feeling as light and airy as the breeze. All of the complications and problems of opening The Sea Watch hadn’t disappeared but when I woke up that morning they seemed distant and muted. The weight in my heart was replaced with a small thrill of excitement. That was a feeling I wasn’t going to inspect too closely. It was better to just enjoy it without all the uncomfortable self-reflection.

Distantly I heard the buzz of a motor increasing from a mosquito whine to a bass rumbling as the center console drew closer to the shore. At the helm, Landon stood casually. His hair was getting long and shaggy with dark brown curls kissing the collar of his shirt. He looked so perfectly at home in his boat; the way his arm muscles flexed and his long fingers wrapped around the wheel. It was enough to make any woman a little weak at the knees. Mostly because his mouth was gloriously shut for once.

“Ahoy!” I called out and then instantly wanted to take it back. Nerves always make me act like a socially impaired five year old in the middle of a cocktail party.

“Ahoy.” He called back, smiling softly. For once there was no trace of smugness or condescension in his grin. He dropped a small anchor and hopped over the side, the waves lapped gently against the hem of his shorts as he made his way to the beach.

“You’ve proved to be a lucky woman once again. It’s a perfect day.” He motioned from the bright sun hanging heavy in the sky to the ocean so calm it looked almost like glass.

“And you get to spend it with me. Who’s the lucky one?” I threw him my most confident grin and pulled my beach bag up on my shoulder as I started to wade out to the boat. The water was in the mid-eighties and there was no shock or gasp as it closed around my ankles. There was something decadent about a sea as warm as bathwater. It made me think of yachts bobbing in the calm Mediterranean with champagne and fresh strawberries. Somehow, I was more excited about a Corona on Landon’s little boat.

Behind me, Landon lifted the cooler I had carefully packed that morning onto his broad shoulder and followed me out into the gin colored waves.  He dropped the cooler over the gunwale and, before I could react, wrapped his hands around my waist and lifted me into the boat. In that fleeting moment of contact I was startled by how small and dainty I felt. He didn’t so much as grunt with effort as he swung me into the boat. A girl could get used to that feeling.

He slid in beside me and I felt another thrill as he brushed against me in the small space. Our conversation last night seemed to cast a whole new light on this man. Sure, he was a grumpy curmudgeon and a little too cocky for his own good but he had his moments of insightful kindness. It was enough to make your head spin. His words from last night,
you’re stronger than you think,
were still running through my mind.

Was this the beginning of a little crush? There was no doubt in my mind. I wanted nothing more than for Landon Fitzpatrick to take me in his arms and have his way with me right here on the slippery deck of his boat. I wanted to feel his mouth on every inch of my overheated skin. A relationship between us would never work. We got on about as well as cats and water in the long term but lately as my sadness had ebbed away and memories of Chris began to dim an aching need had started to grow inside of me. I missed physical contact. I missed the heart-pounding, skin prickling, softly throbbing need. I missed the feeling of sweat slick skin. Oh God, I missed sex.

Having sex with Landon was at the top of my list of Really Bad Ideas. Number one, in fact. With a bullet. And underlined. Twice. We had two more weeks before the Grand Opening, two weeks in which we would have to work together closely. Things would get tense and complicated. The problem was, I’m notorious for turning Really Bad Ideas into Really Bad Decisions.

“What?”

“Huh?” Landon’s questioning look snapped me out of my thoughts.

“You’re staring at me like I have a squirrel on my head.”

“Sorry, I was just thinking.”
Thinking about you. Thinking about you naked.

“Not about work I hope.” He had hauled the small anchor back up and was nosing the small boat out to sea. The combined smell of diesel, sunscreen and salt water was so essentially summer that it made me smile.

“No, not work.” He smiled at me as if he was expecting me to elaborate, to tell him what I had been thinking. Instead I just gave him a little grin. I was a terrible liar and there was no way I was going to ‘fess up to what I had actually been thinking about. Silence seemed the wisest course.

“Is this as fast as this thing goes?” I asked, changing the subject as we puttered along.

“Just you wait.”

We left the small boat lane we had been following and the last buoy dropped away behind us when Landon really opened up the engine. It roared to life with a deafening rumble and skimmed forward until the front of the boat lifted out of the water. We sailed over a swell of water briefly becoming almost airborne before crashing back down. It felt like I was flying. My hair was whipping around my face. The wind danced across my skin. I raised my hands into the air, threw my head back and whooped. Landon looked at me startled and laughed. In that moment we were two young people sharing the excitement and freedom of racing across the turquoise waters.

In the distance I could see a small dark smudge against the horizon growing larger and larger as we approached until I could make out the shape of palm trees.

“Look it’s an island.” I cried pointing excitedly.

“I know, that’s where we’re going.” Landon yelled back over the roar of the engine. We made our way there at the same breakneck speed. Landon purposefully steered over the swells so we would leap through the air and we laughed together as we came down with a jarring thud.