Chapter 7 #2
Eli wasn’t just joking. The painstaking five-year restoration of the cottage had won a state preservation award.
It was listed on the local historic register and had been featured in Coastal Living and even a small spread in Architectural Digest after I finished the kitchen.
That kind of attention inevitably brought offers, usually polite inquiries forwarded by Marilyn, but Arthur Albright, whose beachfront place on Little Torch Key I’d redesigned a couple of years back, had cornered me at a charity event last Christmas, half-joking but completely serious when he said all I needed to do was ask my price and he’d take it.
“Ha. I’ll take all the publicity I can get.” I laughed, shaking my head as Eli dropped into the chair opposite mine and reached for his glass. “Albright practically offered me his firstborn for it again last month. But no, I’m staying put. Too much sweat equity in these walls.”
“His loss,” Eli said easily, taking a generous swallow of bourbon.
He set the paper bag on the table between us.
“Speaking of people staying put, I brought some key lime cookies Jules made. She thinks they’ll pair well with bourbon, which sounds disgusting to me, but what do I know?
I’m just the guy who drinks beer from a can. ”
Despite my anxiety, I had to smile. Eli had the unique ability to dispel tension without even knowing it existed.
Tonight, he wore a faded T-shirt from some dive shop in Bali, cargo shorts that had seen better days, and his ever-present flip-flops.
His perpetually sun-bleached hair and easy smile projected his usual carefree demeanor.
“Jules let you out on a school night?” I teased, falling into our familiar rhythm despite the weight sitting on my chest. “Must have signed a permission slip.”
“Please. Jules does not tell me what to do.” He took a sip, then added with a grin, “She merely makes strongly worded suggestions that I choose to follow because I value my life and access to her.”
“How is domestic bliss?” I asked, leaning back in my chair and trying to appear relaxed. “She moved in, what, a month ago? And neither of you has killed the other yet. Impressive.”
“It’s good. Really good, actually.” His expression softened. “You know how she alphabetizes the spice rack? Turns out, I find that weirdly hot.”
I laughed. “You’ve changed, man. The Eli I used to know would break out in hives at the mere mention of cohabitation.”
“The Eli you used to know was an idiot,” he countered, raising his glass in a mock toast. “Though Jules would argue that not much has changed. Yesterday she found my wetsuit dripping in the bathtub instead of on the deck rack she installed specifically for that purpose.”
“And you’re still alive to tell the tale? She must really love you.”
“Miracle, right?” He grinned, then took another sip of bourbon, eyeing me over the rim of his glass. “But enough about my domestic triumphs. What’s going on with you? And don’t say nothing because you’ve adjusted those coasters at least four times since I sat down.”
I froze, caught in the act of nudging a coaster into exact alignment with the edge of the table. For all his laid-back demeanor, Eli had always been perceptive. It was what made him such a good dive instructor—that ability to read people, to sense when something was off.
“That obvious, huh?” I abandoned the pretense, setting my glass down and leaning forward.
“Okay, spill it,” Eli said, his tone shifting from playful to concerned. “You look wound up tighter than a drum. What’s up?”
I took a deep breath, then a long swallow of bourbon, welcoming the burn as it slid down my throat. I’d rehearsed variations of this conversation all day, but now, facing Eli, all my prepared phrases abandoned me.
“There’s something you need to know,” I said in a voice that was steadier than I felt. “About Harper and me.”
Eli went still, his glass halfway to his lips. An expression I couldn’t quite read crossed his face—not quite surprise, not quite understanding. He set his glass down. “Go on.”
“We…” I faltered, then pushed forward. “The other night, she came over here to discuss an issue we’re having with the pipes in Room Block One. Something happened between us.”
Eli didn’t blink, didn’t move. His silence compelled me to continue.
“We kissed. Well, a lot more than that.” I didn’t elaborate, knowing Eli wouldn’t want details. “It wasn’t planned, but it happened. And I can’t stop thinking about her, Eli.”
I braced myself for anger, for the protective brotherly rage I’d feared. Instead, Eli remained unnervingly calm, studying me with a perceptiveness I rarely saw from him. “You and Harper? Huh. At least you both got some action.”
“I was half-expecting you to tackle me,” I ventured, uncertain of this measured response.
Eli picked up his glass again and took a deliberate sip. “Would it make you feel better if I punched you? Because I could do that if it helps.”
The deadpan delivery made me choke on my bourbon. “No, that won’t be necessary.”
“Good, because I just had my nails done.” He flexed his fingers dramatically.
Then his expression became serious, the joking facade dropping away.
“Listen to me very carefully, Chase. Harper isn’t just another woman.
She’s been hurt before. Badly. Finn’s father walked out when she told him she was pregnant.
Didn’t even stick around long enough to see his son born. ”
I nodded, absorbing the gravity in his tone.
“She had to rebuild her entire life around being a single mom. Everything she does, every decision she makes, is with Finn in mind. That kid is her whole world.” He leaned forward, his eyes locking with mine.
“If you’re just looking for something casual, or if you’re not sure what you want, you need to walk away now.
Harper and Finn deserve stability, not complications. ”
“I’m not looking to hurt her,” I said quietly. “I honestly don’t know what this is yet, Eli. It caught me off guard. But I respect her too much not to treat her right.”
Eli studied me for a long moment. “You know, you two are a lot alike. You’re both responsible to a fault, both put everyone else first.” He shook his head. “Your timing sucks, though. Even worse than mine and Jules’s. Congrats.”
“So… you’re not going to kill me?”
“Not today.” Eli picked up his glass again. “Harper’s a grown woman who makes her own choices. I don’t get a vote. But she’s also my sister, and Finn is my nephew, so I get to say this once—if you hurt her, I will absolutely make your life miserable in creative and painful ways.”
“Understood.” That leaden weight lifted from my chest, even as a new one settled in its place. Eli’s blessing came with expectations—to be worthy of Harper’s trust, to consider Finn in any decisions I made.
“Besides,” Eli added, “you two are some of my favorite people. If you can make each other happy, who am I to stand in the way? Just… be careful. There’s a lot at stake.”
“I know.” I swirled the remaining bourbon in my glass, watching the ice shift. “I’m going to talk to her, figure out what we both want.”
“Good.” Eli nodded, then reached for one of Jules’s cookies. “Now can we please talk about something else? I’m gonna need you to spare me the sordid play-by-play of you and my sister. I guess that might become a new rule between us.”
I laughed, relief washing through me. “Fair enough. How about those Hammerheads?”
We fell into an easier conversation after that, discussing everything from the upcoming dive season to my latest projects. By the time he left a couple of hours later, things between us felt mostly normal again—our friendship intact, if somewhat altered by this new dimension.
I remained on the deck after Eli’s departure, nursing a third bourbon and staring into the darkness. The night had descended fully around me. Crickets and distant waves provided a soundtrack to my thoughts.
Eli’s reaction had been better than I’d feared but brought with it a deeper responsibility than I’d anticipated.
His understanding wasn’t permission to pursue Harper.
It was a trust I couldn’t betray. I thought about her, about Finn, about the complicated path ahead if we decided to see where this attraction led.
And we needed to consider not just our own feelings but the potential impact on Finn, on the renovation project, on the complex web of relationships that connected us.