On The Beach (Modern Vintage)

11. Beneath the Beach Bottoms

CHAPTER 11

beneath the beach bottoms

MICK

I watched Belle from across the Coral Cove, her brow furrowed, fingers tapping impatiently on her laptop as the signal flickered in and out. She was trying to connect to her work systems, but between the dodgy Wi-Fi and the lack of a proper cell tower on the island, it was a losing battle.

I was almost enjoying watching her try to reconnect to her work world, the one she wasn't sure if she wanted to escape. I could relate to Belle; maybe that was why I was attracted to her.

"Or maybe because she has a brain, unlike all the bimbos you've been screwing around with?" RiRi offered.

"I screw around with you, and you're no bimbo," I reminded her.

She waved a hand. "We were friends with benefits. That's different."

RiRi had a point. I enjoyed Belle's sharp mind and the way she talked about her clinical trials, but deep down, I knew I'd have to face the truth I'd been avoiding. I missed parts of my old life. I missed the work .

" Fucking hell ." Belle pounded on her keyboard. "Damn it, I got disconnected again."

I smiled.

She looked out of place, but in the best way possible, like she was one foot in and one foot out of Reef Harbor, not quite ready to fully let go of wherever she'd come from and not willing to give into the island charm either.

"Try sitting between the window and that ledge there," RiRi suggested. "I sometimes get a signal there."

Belle moved her laptop. My eyes followed her.

Franco nudged me, a grin already forming on his face. "You look like a schoolboy with a crush."

I scoffed, shaking my head. "It's not like that, man. She's too big city."

But even as I said it, I didn't really believe it. Belle was the kind of woman you noticed, the kind you remembered—smart, funny, way too serious for her own good. And she was relentless in all the ways I'd once been.

"So what? Big city never stopped you before," Cato chimed in, raising an eyebrow. "Back when you lived in Boston, you used to be the big city."

"Yeah, well, I don't miss it," I muttered, more to myself than to them.

But Cato wasn't having it. "Don't pretend like you weren't the biggest hotshot out there for a while. That fancy lab, the startup?—"

"Christ, Cato, let it the fuck go."

Helaxion. That was the company I'd founded with some others. Not friends but colleagues. We respected one another. When I decided to leave, they'd understood that I needed to step away. I was into the science and not the business. I wasn't the face of the company; they were. I preferred to be in the background. I had my private lab where I worked with a trusted team—the team that was now spread across the world working on breakthrough innovations in universities and pharmaceutical companies. None of them were still at Helaxion. They'd been friends, but I hadn't stayed in touch.

"Score." Belle pumped her fist in the air. She looked at me with bright eyes, "I got in."

I raised my beer bottle in her direction. "Good for you, Babycakes."

She started to speak with someone from her team on her headphones, and just like that, I was back, remembering the early mornings at the lab, the takeout boxes stacked in the corner, the endless meetings with investors who barely knew the science but were always counting the profits.

Back then, I was practically living at my lab in Cambridge, crunching data by day and scribbling notes late into the night on a whiteboard plastered with formulas and diagrams. The company had been growing fast, moving up in the biotech world, and every day felt like a race to the finish line. I loved it; I thought it was what I wanted.

I'd met Mia after the company was doing well. She saw me as the son of Lady Arabella Augustus and not Dr. Nicholas Augustus. It was no wonder that I didn't want to advertise my lineage. I was born in England, the son of Lord Augustus and raised in New York when my mother married my stepfather, her second husband, who had been American and had raised me for all practical purposes. Once he passed away when I was in university, she moved back to London, and I stayed in the United States. My mother always kept in touch, always visited, and never made me feel like I lost both my stepfather and her.

I'd been close with my stepfather, who I called Dad. He'd been a scientist, a professor of biochemistry at NYU. We'd invented the name Helaxion together, combining helix, the structure of DNA, with ion, which implied action and transformation at the molecular level.

I wondered what Dad would think about me abandoning science to live in Reef Harbor. He'd be disappointed. Well, hell, join the club. But I couldn't go back to that life. I just couldn't. Watching Belle gave me PTSD.

I took a swig of my beer as the memories pushed their way in—unwelcome and unavoidable.

"Is Belle a lot like your ex?" Franco asked.

I cocked an eyebrow. "Fuck no. Mia was a…she was a socialite; came from a wealthy family and worked in PR for Louis Vuitton."

"Belle has nice shoes," Cato remarked.

"And she looks good," Franco added.

"Yeah, she does."

But Belle was no Mia, thank the fuck, God. She was almost na?ve in her openness. She had no walls, no barriers. There was a simplicity about how she opened up easily and shared herself the way she did.

"And she doesn't look the type who'd cheat on you with her trainer." Cato patted my shoulder.

"'Cause I don't think she's the type to have a personal trainer," Franco mused.

"Whoa! We're not together. There's nothing to cheat on," I protested.

"Oh please, you sabotaged the ferry so she'd stay," RiRi laughed.

" Shh , let's not announce it to the world, yeah?" I warned.

"The world knows; hell, you bribed Big Al so he wouldn't tell Belle how to charter a chopper," Cato reminded me dryly. "You just don't want her to know." He tilted his head toward Belle, who was speaking animatedly about vector load limits and off-target effects in the clinical trials .

She gestured wildly with her hands, her eyes alight as she explained, "So, if the vector's efficiency is too low, the therapy barely impacts the cells. But if it's too high, you risk triggering an immune response, which could jeopardize the whole trial—if not the patient."

I couldn't help but smile, catching myself nodding along. "Exactly," I murmured, unable to resist adding, "It's the delicate balance between dosage and delivery. Too little, you lose effectiveness. Too much, and you lose safety."

Franco, Cato, and RiRi looked at me like I'd grown a second head.

"What? You guys know I did that kind of work."

"It's sort of hot to hear you say that," Franco leered. "Say it again, doctor ."

"Shut up," I snapped, amused.

My friends laughed.

" Ooohh , say that again, Mick; tell us all about balance," RiRi teased, sticking her tits out and fanning herself.

I gave them all a finger.

"Yeah, he's real good at balancing," Franco laughed, "never seen someone do shots and sail as well as Mick does."

"How long is she goin' to be workin'?" Cato grumbled. "I thought we were gonna go fishin'."

I watched Belle, wanting to get her away from her call and take her away somewhere so we could be alone. I didn't want to think about how empty Reef Harbor would feel when she inevitably left. I hadn't missed anyone in years, but I had a feeling I'd miss Belle.

I barely know her. I won't miss her. I don't miss people.

I tapped my beer bottle on the bar. "Fuck it, we'll go. We don't have to wait for her."

It had been a mistake to keep her on the island. The longer she was with me, the more I'd want her. If she'd left this morning, I wouldn't be watching her like a hungry predator. I wanted her. I wanted to fuck her. But this was more than sex, and I couldn't pretend otherwise—no matter how good I was at burying emotions and faking them .

Belle looked at us and smiled, holding a finger up. "Give me five minutes, and then I'm done. We had a breakthrough. Can you believe it?"

" Yeah ," Franco yelled and held up his beer bottle. "Belle's gonna celebrate by buying a round."

Belle nodded indulgently. "Sure."

Everyone in the Coral Cove cheered.

She went back to her computer, and RiRi poured drinks.

"Mick," RiRi warned when she saw the impatient look in my eyes, "remember, you want her here."

"It was?—"

"Enjoy her while she's here," RiRi added compassionately.

I stopped short at that. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," she said softly. "You like her."

I took a deep breath. "I do."

"Then enjoy her."

"And what about when she leaves?"

"Let's cross that bridge when we get there, okay, man?"

The bridge, I knew, was going to be a bitch.

I'd come to Reef Harbor and built a life that felt like enough—or at least, I thought it had been until Belle showed up. She barreled into town with her bright eyes and high heels, a walking reminder of everything I'd left behind.

The thing was that Belle was dragging some of the old me to the surface, and I knew my friends saw it. I wasn't the serious kind. I had become the wanna fuck and wanna have fun kind.

I had no idea why I felt this pull for Belle, why she got under my skin the way she did.

She's just a fuck, that's all , I told myself.

But just then, Belle looked over, caught me watching her, and rolled her eyes with a grin. And damn it, I could feel my heart doing something I wasn't ready for.