Island Fling: a sweet contemporary beach romance (Paradise Island Book 2)

by Evie Jordan

The hair guy leaned against the side of the building. He must be hard-up to be approaching her again. She had to look like a drowned rat, and she was sure her scowl was anything but inviting.

  “My friend owns this place,” the guy said. “I’ve been here a few days already. I could show you around?”

  She glared.

  His attention went briefly back to the sailboat. “Unless you’re dating one of the boys from the boat.”

  A scoff released before she could stop it. “Good grief, no.”

  His smile widened. Her eyes narrowed.

  “But guys with smiles as smug as yours, are on my never-list.”

  Instead of his face falling, like she expected, a brow quirked up and his smile increased.

  Oh no, one of those. He’d be a lot easier to ignore if he were hideous.

  “Not asking for marriage.” He shrugged. “Just thought we could have some fun while you’re here.”

  Katy folded her arms and stared at his smug expression. “What does that mean, exactly?”

  He shrugged again. “Whatever you want it to mean.”

  “In that case, I’ll take a good night’s sleep, some alone time, and a hot shower.” Oh, wait. “Alone.”

  Again, a loose shrug. The gesture was practically a disease with this guy. “Okay.”

  “That’s what fun sounds like to me,” she added, to make sure there was no mistake.

  “Perfect,” he answered.

  Why was he still standing there, grinning at her? “Listen, if you’re looking for a random island fling, you have the wrong girl.”

  His eyes darted away, but just briefly before holding her gaze again. He ran a hand over his thick hair—brownish but expertly bleached by somewhere probably stupidly over-priced. “Alone is fun. Noted.”

  Not the answer she’d expected, but still, she forced her attention away from his perfect hair and cheekbones. A guy, even a temporary one, was the last thing she needed.

  Regan, the woman behind the harbor master counter, handed over directions, keys, and a small bag of snacks. Without a glance back, Katy moved off the dock and up a sandy pathway to a boardwalk, lined with five small cabins in pale Caribbean colors. Hers was pale yellow and the one on the end. More privacy. Perfect.

  The room inside was as relaxing as she’d hoped. A TV on the wall, a real shower, rather than the small shower head which forced her to sit on the toilet…And a full-sized bed. She let her bag fall to the floor and only the lure of a real shower kept her from flopping directly into clean sheets. This was going to be heaven—hopefully she’d be able to keep her brother here for a few days, or…maybe she’d see if she could work some magic and stay in this spot for a while. She’d much prefer the peace of this island over the bustle of Nassau, or more time on her brother’s boat.

  Aside from Mr. Smug, this stop may have been a particularly fantastic move.

  Chapter Three

  Rain slapped against the windows of the Harbor House. Trace had to give props to Regan—Colby would have never made the small house so nice. A tiny sundries shop sat in the front, with the living quarters behind the store and office. The wood floors were smooth, the place bright with new paint, and the furniture was small enough to be comfortable in the little space.

  Watching Colby sit next to a woman he loved, a woman Colby already guessed he’d marry…The whole thing felt so grown up.

  “How many people you get through here?” he asked as he tore another piece of bread off his roll.

  Regan’s smile was sly. “You mean how many single, pretty girls like the one you attempted to flirt with today?”

  That’s exactly what he meant, but he wasn’t about to let on. “Attempted to flirt?”

  Regan snorted but managed not to laugh.

  “We’ve just barely officially opened,” Colby said. “We’ve warned people we’re under construction and rates are cheap. Right now, I’m hoping that we get more boats, like the sailboat that pulled in today. Very little work on our part and helps with the gas bills for the generator.”

  “Man, you sound far too much like my dad.” Trace laughed. “I’m still surprised you chose more work when you could have retired, or at least taken a nice chunk of time off.”

  “I get bored,” Colby said.

  Trace knew boredom all too well, but he wasn’t about to let on. Things with money were too easy. Paris for a weekend? Easy. Great tickets to whatever game he wanted to see? Easy. There was no challenge in anything anymore. They had to start working on another app project, and soon.

  “You gonna help with the new bungalows?” Colby asked.

  Trace hadn’t built anything since middle school shop class. “If it makes me as ripped as you.”

  Colby and Regan shared a look. One of those irritating looks between couples where they don’t have to say anything out loud to convey something the rest of the people in the room may or may not want to hear.

  “Yes. I’ll help,” Trace said. “I said I’d come work. But you need to take some time and help me on the developmental end of things.”

  “Not satisfied with the amount of money, huh?” Colby chuckled as he picked at some fancy cheese that Trace had brought.

  No, the need to create was more than that. Trace was stagnant, and he needed Colby’s steady mind to bounce ideas off of. Trace’s apps wouldn’t be well thought out—big ideas without the proper tools to support it. Also, they had investors for new projects, and those investors would want to see some return on their money.

  “Just don’t want to be obsolete in the industry.” That answer was honest enough, but really, he needed purpose. Craved it.

  “I’m game.” Colby sat back, resting his hands on his close-cropped hair. “I was thinking we tackle some kind of travel app next. I know you’re the big idea one, but see what your brain can dream up with that.”

  Travel app…Trace’s mind began whirring.

  A knock at the harbor master’s window jolted Trace out of his chair. “I got it!”

  Maybe it would be the brunette from earlier. The one who had zero interest in him. The one who would be a delightful distraction while he was visiting.

  Her soft hair was piled on her head, and her formerly saltwater-streaked face was scrubbed clean. When their eyes met, her mouth dripped into a frown. “You again.”

  Her elbows rested on the small counter that separated the office from the outdoors.

  Trace grinned widely. “Me again. What can I do for you…”

  “Katy,” she said dryly.

  He’d had a dog named Katy when he was a kid, but that probably wasn’t the best opener. “What can I help you with Katy?”

  “I just wondered if I could get another bottle of conditioner.” Her attention flickered to the sailboat tied in the harbor. “My brother is crap at checking weather, and we haven’t been to a port in a while.”

  “Uno momento,” he said before leaning back and calling into the house. “Conditioner?”

  Instead of giving Trace directions, Colby popped his head into the room and gave Katy a polite, proprietor smile. “Katy. We have choices. You can thank Regan for that.”

  “Trust me.” Katy met his smile, which was completely unfair. “I don’t care but thank you.”

  Colby pulled out a large drawer behind him and took out two small bottles. “One of each.” He slid them through the open window.

  “You own the place, right?” Katy asked.

  Trace clapped his friend on the shoulder. “That he does.”

  Her focus didn’t move from Colby. This was…This kind of total dismissal hadn’t happened to him in a while.

  “I’ve been traveling with my brother and his friends, but if you need help here…Your website said you’re under construction, and I’m looking to be off the boat for a while.”

  Nice bit of information there.

  Colby nodded once. “We may, actually. Regan will be in touch tomorrow. She handles most of the day to day things.”

  Trace would have to t
alk to Regan, find a way to keep her on the island. There had to be a way to at least coax a smile out of her…or a few words…Why was he even worried about this?

  “Cool lady,” Katy said.

  Colby’s face turned wistful and almost pathetic. “She is.”

  “If you need anything else, I’m happy to help.” Trace rested his elbows on the counter.

  Her gaze only flitted to him for a moment before she said goodnight to Colby and headed back up the trail.

  “Wow.” Colby laughed. “She does not like you.”

  Trace stood, his total rejection leaving him feeling…unsettled and strange. “No, she definitely does not.”

  “No harassment,” Colby warned. “That’s the last thing I need.”

  But he wasn’t going to harp on a woman who was determined to hate him, he’d just have to…Maybe he just had to make himself seem more desirable, and then she’d come to him.

  “It’s not a game man,” Colby said as if he could read his friend’s thoughts.

  “Sometimes, it is.” His mind wandered over the very few things he knew about her.

  Colby’s hands shoved in the pockets of his shorts. Such a ‘Colby’ thing. “Why her?”

  “Because…” Trace gathered his thoughts. No one had captured his interest with so few words between them. “It takes one interesting woman to be on a mono-hull sailboat with three men. I’m curious.”

  “Okay.” Colby walked to the next room but yelled back, “Behave yourself!”

  Now, to figure out what Trace could about her, so he’d know how to move forward. First step was chatting up the guys she’d been sailing with.

  Trace woke up early again. What was with this place? He was falling asleep earlier than his grandparents and waking at the crack of dawn. This wasn’t him. But then, there were no restaurants or nightlife here—just a few simple items in the harbor store to make meals in his room, and Colby and Regan’s cooking. The sun went down early and came up early, and he’d started a similar rhythm.

  He sat on steps which led to the dock that sat underwater for most of the day—four of the smaller sharks that hung out in the harbor rested on the planks. He reached down and slid his fingers over the sandpapery skin. Cool creatures.

  “Hey,” Colby called from the house. “You ready?”

  “For what?”

  “To start working. It gets hot in the afternoon.”

  “I’m supposed to be in bed,” Trace objected.

  Leaning toward the back of the island, and the small cabins Colby was building, Colby continued, “But you’re not, so…”

  So yeah. Trace stood, promising himself that he’d find the courage to get in the water with the sharks before he left. Although, he may end up using all his courage to learn more about the woman looking for a job.

  Colby climbed in the passenger’s side of Trace’s dune buggy.

  “I can’t believe you paid to bring that thing with you.”

  “Really?” Trace started the engine and stared at Colby. “Really?”

  A laugh settled between them. “Okay, I guess I’m not that surprised.”

  Colby pointed the way along the car-width trails of sand. Trace drove up and over the island until they reached a cleared-out section with the brick frames of seven small houses.

  “I thought we were building?” Trace asked.

  “They finished the bricks, but now we have to set the trusses, get the roof on, and get the interior walls built.”

  Roof? Walls? The pile of lumber suddenly appeared twice the size. “How the hell did you learn how to do this?”

  Colby laughed for a moment. “Some in college shop class, and I got the rest from YouTube.”

  “Man, I love the Internet.” Trace stepped forward having no idea where to start, or how on earth he could help build a roof.

  But, with a few instructions from his friend, he was on one wall, Colby was on another, and they were slowly walking with a truss. And then another. And then another. And just when his stomach felt as if it would cave in with hunger, all the trusses were set, and he could see all the things they’d done to get set the support for the roof. Almost as satisfying as neatly written coding.

  Colby swiped his brow. “We’ll do the roof sheeting after lunch, and then we move on to the next house.”

  Collapsing against his car, Trace released a long breath, his entire body aching. If this was what it took to end up with muscles as defined as Colby’s, he might pass. “I can’t see the end result through the wood and brick.”

  “I can,” Colby replied. “But only because of YouTube.”

  That sounded like the Colby he knew.

  “So, you and Regan…” Trace drew out.

  Colby’s gaze drifted to the beach below. Was he avoiding eye contact on purpose? “I know it doesn’t seem like it because she’s living on the island here, but we’re taking it slow.”

  Trace choked. “Talking a girl into moving in with you after two weeks is slow?”

  His reaction was met with Colby’s laughter. “She’s in the blue cabin unless we fall asleep on the couch of the Harbor House.”

  “Wait. Seriously?”

  Instead of locking eyes, Colby stared out at the ocean for a moment before turning back toward his friend. “She’s been the girl for as long as I remember. I don’t want to screw it up. Working together is supposed to be hard on relationships, so yeah…we’re being cautious.”

  Climbing over the driver’s side door, Trace grinned. “You have far more patience than I.”

  “You just wait until the right woman comes along,” Colby answered as he climbed into the passenger’s side. “And then you’ll do whatever it takes to make things work.”

  A couple years ago, Trace probably would have had some kind of smart retort or something, but now…With the way Colby and Regan looked at one another…There was no doubt Regan would be willing to bend her life for him, just as Colby would for her. What would it be like to be loved like that?

  The guys headed back to the Harbor House for lunch. Trace stopped just off the sandy path and parked before following Colby around the building onto the large expanse of dock that rested under a tin roof.

  Regan and Katy sat at one of the picnic tables on the dock, leaning toward one another, their chatter floating across the almost empty harbor.

  “Hey!” Regan waved. Colby jogged ahead and gave her a kiss.

  One thing Trace had learned in his twenty-five years, was that if he wanted any chance of getting to know Katy better, he needed to back off for a while.

  “So, we were just talking,” Regan started. “And Katy has had some experience in interior design, so she doesn’t mind cleaning rooms for guests, but she’s also going to help me finalize the interiors of the new set of bungalows that you two are working on.”

  Katy’s legs were crossed, and her glossy brown hair hung over her shoulders. A tablet rested on the table, and she tapped at it absently, keeping her eyes focused on Colby or the table. “I’ll earn more for the designing than for the cleaning, but I don’t have much need of…” Her eyes darted around for a moment. “Anyway. If that works for you, I’d love to stick around. I’m happy to sleep in a tent, or in one of the smallest, or least re-done cabins.”

  “Happy to have you on board.” Colby shook her hand. “Glad you happened by here.”

  Suddenly Trace felt as if he didn’t belong. They were finalizing employment deals, and he was just standing there, sweating, and ready to let himself flop in the water. Not here, with the sharks, but on the back side of the island, near the giant beach.

  “No comments from Richie Rich?” Katy’s eyes flashed his way.

  “My dad worked as a janitor my whole life,” Trace said. “Until I could afford for him to retire, which he didn’t do. My mom was a dental assistant. I grew up in a three-bedroom apartment, with two siblings. I’m not sure what kind of comment you expect.” She’d decided a few things about him when they met, and since the opportunity to set
her straight had been so easy, he’d had to take it.

  Katy licked her lips and her brows pinched for the briefest of moments. Just enough that he knew he’d thrown her a bit, which was good. Anything he could do to make her understand that he wasn’t a one-dimensional person was a good thing.

  “Let me tell my brother,” she said as she stood. “That way they can decide if they want to stick around or move on.”

  “Thanks Katy!” Regan moved for the house but glanced at Trace and Colby as she reached for the door. “Sandwich makings inside if you two want some food. I’m gonna pull up design plans so Katy and I can chat before I put in our final orders.”

  “She having fun spending your money?” Trace teased.

  “It’s not like that.” Colby pushed open the door. “She’ll save me far more than she spends, I have no doubt.”

  “No, I didn’t mean…” Trace didn’t know what he’d meant or didn’t mean. A quick joke was all he wanted. He’d never had the kind of relationship where people shared so much. Although, what Regan was doing really fell under her job as manager of this place. Must be his tiredness and exhaustion taking over—oh, and the tension in the air between him and Katy.

  Following Colby into the house, he stood at the edge of the kitchen, staring dumbly at the cabinets.

  “What do you need, man?” Colby asked.

  That was a fantastic question that he didn’t have the answer for. “I think I need a vacation from my vacation.”

  Chapter Four

  Why did the annoying guy have to be so cute? And flustered? And from normal parents? Guys were the last thing Katy wanted to think about. Katy was running. Moving. Doing anything she could to prevent attachments while she avoided her life. Yes, she was self-aware enough to know she was avoiding, but her travels were really helping her to prevent actually starting her grown-up career choices. Parental expectations and walking away from two universities had taught her that sometimes running from place to place was the safest way to be. She wasn’t anywhere near ready for any kind of relationship, and she also wasn’t a “fling” kind of girl. This meant she was avoiding men almost as well as she was avoiding home.