Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
CHASE
Fifteen feet below the surface, I hovered in the water as the timer on my dive computer ticked down the final minute of our safety stop. My breathing created a steady rhythm through the regulator. Inhale, exhale, each breath a contained universe of compressed air.
Below us, the reef pulsed with life, a living painting that no artist could capture.
I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed this—the weightlessness, the muffled silence, the absolute presence required by the underwater world.
Launching Latitudes and diving into the resort renovations had consumed every waking moment for months, but here, suspended in blue, I remembered why I made time for this.
A shimmering school of yellow-tailed snappers swept past, their movements so synchronized they seemed to share a single mind.
Their vibrant colors caught the filtered sunlight, flashing gold against the backdrop of coral formations and swaying sea fans.
The massive coral below us hosted a busy community of cleaner wrasses darting in and out of its folds, while purple sea fans waved gently in the current.
I adjusted my buoyancy with a small exhale, trying to maintain neutrality without rising or sinking. It had been too long since my last dive, and my muscle memory felt rusty. The slightest breath changed my position in the water, a reminder of how diving demanded complete awareness of your body.
I glanced over at Harper, floating effortlessly through the water. Seeing her like this, unburdened and graceful, struck something deep inside me. Even behind her mask, the wonder in her eyes was clear. She felt the way I did here, free and alive. A moment of pure intimacy in a world all our own.
Something shifted in my chest as I watched her.
Sharing this silent, weightless world felt unexpectedly intimate, as if we’d discovered a secret language.
Up on the surface, we balanced work discussions about the resort renovations with careful steps into a relationship neither of us had planned.
But down here, where words couldn’t intrude, the connection was both simpler and more profound.
I let the feeling sink in. I’d been consumed with the launch of Latitudes and the resort project, buried in stress and deadlines. I hadn’t realized how much I’d needed this—the escape, the reset, the connection. Harper hovered nearby, her movements fluid and confident.
A movement to my right caught my eye. Eli’s distinctive neon yellow fins with Follow Me written in permanent ink on the tips flicked as he gave me an exaggerated okay sign, his eyes conveying the unspoken critique of my wobbly buoyancy.
Twenty-plus years of friendship meant he never missed a chance to needle me about my rusty dive skills.
I responded with an equally exaggerated okay, adding an eye roll behind my mask.
Next to Eli, Jules floated serenely, her trim black wetsuit and streamlined position making her look like she belonged here more than any of us.
With her dark hair swept into a neat ponytail and her movements precise and economical, she reminded me of a sleek reef shark—elegant, composed, slightly intimidating.
Despite being a relatively new diver, Julianne Verne approached underwater skills with the same meticulous attention she brought to the resort’s financials.
After signaling the dive was finished, Eli lifted his thumb and we rose slowly, the surface shimmering above us.
The meditative calm shifted with each foot we climbed, anticipation building until we broke through.
Bright sunlight blinded me momentarily, Sunset Diver rocking gently from where it was moored nearby.
“Woo!” Harper pulled her regulator free, her face split with a grin as she pulled her mask down. Water droplets caught in her eyelashes, making them sparkle in the afternoon sun. “That was fabulous!”
“Not bad for a resort master scheduler,” Eli said, floating effortlessly beside her. “You’re starting to look like you belong down there, sis.”
“The visibility was exceptional today,” Jules said, still peering into the blue water. “I counted two species of butterflyfish I hadn’t seen before.”
“Ooh, somebody’s been studying her fish ID books,” Eli said, smiling at her with obvious approval.
We swam the short distance to Sunset Diver, its white hull gleaming in the sunshine. Eli reached the ladder first and climbed aboard with the practiced ease of someone who did this multiple times daily. He leaned over to offer Jules a hand, which she accepted with a small nod.
“Need a boost, old man?” Eli called down to me, grinning. “Those custom homes aren’t keeping you in diving shape.”
“No, but the running does, asshole,” I replied mildly, waiting for Harper to go ahead of me.
She was already moving up the rungs, water streaming from her. I definitely didn’t watch the way it clung to her curves as she climbed. And I absolutely wasn’t caught staring when I hauled myself onto the deck after her.
“Like what you see, Ashworth?” she asked quietly, a teasing glint in her eye as she reached for a towel.
“Can’t complain about the view.”
The routine kicked in. Tanks were secured, masks stowed, wetsuits peeled off in the humid afternoon air. Harper and I reached for the freshwater hose at the same time, our hands brushing.
She stepped back, her eyes playful, handing me the hose with a grin. “You go first. Looks like you need it.”
Eli shook his head, passing out towels. “Or maybe you two should shower together. Save water.”
I caught the look in his eye, a mix of amusement and something else—scrutiny. The boat deck settled into a post-dive rhythm. Eli pulled cold beers and sodas from the cooler, passing them around along with a bag of chips and a container of cookies.
“Refreshments for the successful divers,” he announced. “Jules brought some cookies too, because she’s secretly the best person on this boat.”
“Don’t tell anyone,” Jules said dryly as she grabbed a can of soda. “I have a cultivated reputation for heartlessness to maintain.”
Harper and I sat close on a bench seat, sharing a towel, her wet hair brushing my shoulder. The casual intimacy felt natural, but I was acutely aware of Eli’s watchful presence.
“So,” Eli said, cracking open a beer, “how was the view from down under? You both looked cozy.”
“I managed my air pretty well, I think,” I shot back. “Good thing you didn’t charge us by the minute. I’d have to trade you the SUV to settle up.”
“We could work out a payment plan.” Eli turned to Harper. “Seriously, though, you did great. No panic, no flailing. Almost like you knew what you were doing.”
“Thanks to you,” she said, her eyes warm. “And you didn’t even need to rename the dive boat.”
Jules leaned in and grabbed a cookie. “That sounds like a story.”
Harper laughed, a sound I didn’t hear nearly enough from her. “Eli called it the HMS Flail during a refresher session I had a few years ago. Nice, right?”
Our interaction caused a sense of belonging to wash over me.
Eli’s jokes, Jules’s steady presence, Harper fitting so well into the group—it felt solid.
But beneath the surface-level ease, Eli’s attention wasn’t casual.
He had a way of looking that saw everything, especially the things you tried to hide.
“That reef never gets old.” Harper leaned back, her shoulder brushing mine. “Every time I think I’ve seen it all, there’s something new. Those little blue fish darting in and out of the staghorn coral today? I could have watched them for hours.”
“They’re a type of chromis,” Eli said. “I still want to take you night diving. Whole different world down there after dark. The parrotfish wrap themselves in mucus cocoons to sleep.”
“That’s… disgusting and fascinating,” Harper said.
“Just like your brother,” Jules added, earning an appreciative laugh from all of us.
Jules passed around the fresh fruit plate while Eli launched into the story of a moray eel encounter I’d heard more than once.
“So there I was, face-to-face with this green moray,” Eli said, gesturing expansively. “Must have been seven feet long if it was an inch. I’m showing the guests the proper viewing distance when this absolute unit of an eel decides today’s the day to inspect every inch of my mask.”
“Funny how that eel grows a foot longer every time you tell this story,” Harper said, reaching for a cookie.
“Artistic license,” Eli replied, unfazed. “Jules, back me up here. You’ve seen that moray at Blue Dropoff. It’s enormous, right?”
Jules looked up from where she was drying her dive computer with a microfiber cloth. “I’ve seen it, yes.” Her lips curved in the slightest hint of a smile. “Though I don’t recall it attempting to remove your mask with its teeth like you claimed last time.”
“Details.” Eli waved dismissively. “Chase, tell them about that tiger shark that buzzed you last year.”
“It was a nurse shark, and it was sleeping under a ledge until you decided to wake it up,” I corrected, grinning at the memory. “Which is very different from your version, where it was circling me like I was chum.”
Harper laughed, the sound carrying across the water. “Did anyone spot that massive grouper lurking under the coral overhang? I swear it was watching us like we were the exhibit and it was the tourist.”
“Good eye.” Eli nodded approvingly. “That’s Old Grumpy. He’s been hanging around that spot for at least three years. Territorial as hell but makes for a great landmark.”
The conversation flowed, shifting to the resort’s renovations.
“What’s the timeline for the bungalows?” Eli asked, leaning back with his elbows resting on the tank holders.
Harper took a sip of her drink. “Painting the interiors this month. The renderings look incredible. Chase’s design keeps the classic Keys feel but with all the contemporary amenities our guests expect. The indoor-outdoor showers are going to be a major selling point.”
“Thanks to Austin’s input, the bungalows are coming along very nicely,” I added. “And the pool cabanas are on schedule to be finished soon.”
“Those bungalows are going to look great,” Jules said, reaching for some fresh fruit.
Her tone shifted, more serious. “But just looking ahead… cash flow for the Q3 draw on the loan, when we hit the heavy interior finishes for the bungalows, is going to require really tight management of the operational budget. We planned for this quarter’s negative, obviously, but there’s less wiggle room than I’d like moving into the next phase. ”
The words hung in the air, sinking into me like stones. I nodded, trying to keep my response level. “Appreciate the heads-up, Jules. We’re tracking the change orders closely. Hopefully, we don’t hit any major delays.”
My post-dive relaxation was quickly replaced by the tight knot of financial pressure.
We’d planned for this—everything charted, every risk calculated—but hearing it out loud shook me.
Latitudes needed the project to stay on course.
The other projects I’d landed, like the Franson guesthouse, would help the bottom line, but Siesta Sunset would either make or break me.
Eli and Jules shifted, momentarily distracted. Eli pointed out a distant boat, and Jules turned around to look. It created a brief window of privacy, just enough for Harper and me to face each other more directly.
Her eyes found mine, her expression softening. Even with her hair wet and tangled, she looked beautiful, relaxed in a way I rarely saw her at the resort. She traced a finger along the edge of the bench between us.
“God, I’ve missed this,” she said quietly. “Being out on the water. Diving. It’s like… coming home to a place you forgot you needed. Are you enjoying yourself?”
I held her gaze, enjoying the rocking of the boat beneath us, the salt drying on my skin, the warmth of her beside me. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Not just the diving. Being here. With you.”
Her smile lit up her face, but there was something vulnerable in her eyes. She placed her hand on my arm, her touch warm against my cooled skin. “Can I admit something?”
She had my full attention, her words cutting through the complicated mix of anxiety and connection. “Of course.”
“This, us… it feels really good. Maybe too good.” Her breath was shaky. “I could fall pretty hard for you. And honestly? I’m still not sure that’s a good thing.” She swallowed hard but held my gaze.
Her directness surprised me, but more than that, empathy surged within me. I reached for her hand, holding it tightly, my voice low. “Hey. I get it. This is a lot. For both of us.”
Her eyes searched mine, looking for something solid to hold onto.
“I’ve got a hell of a lot riding on this project too, personally and professionally.
It’s intense.” I squeezed her hand, making sure she felt the strength behind my words.
“But, Harper, we knew it wouldn’t be simple.
We’ll figure it out. Okay? We take it one step, one dive, one budget report at a time. Together.”
“I like the sound of that.”
She leaned in and brushed a quick kiss over my mouth. The connection felt raw and powerful, the reassurance settling in. It didn’t erase the fear, but it softened the edges, made it something we could face instead of something that would consume us.
I reached out to smooth her wet hair. “And for what it’s worth, I could fall pretty hard too.”
The admission wasn’t one I’d planned to make, but sitting there with the taste of her on my lips and the gentle rock of the boat beneath us, it was the most honest thing I could offer.
I avoided close relationships specifically because they made me feel off-kilter.
Unsure of myself, without a strong foundation.
And of all the times to fall for a woman, this might be the worst. Yet as I stared into Harper’s eyes, I couldn’t deny the ever-deepening attraction.
My business concerns hadn’t vanished—if anything, they loomed larger than ever—but somehow sharing this connection with Harper made them feel less isolating.
Eli called out, breaking the moment. “All right, lovebirds. You guys ready to head back?”
I nodded, exchanging a final, meaningful look with Harper.
I felt both the burden and the buoyancy as Eli turned the boat toward shore, the ocean stretching out infinitely around us.
But Harper’s vulnerability and my own reassurance made it feel shared, less isolating.
Grounded and adrift at the same time, I let the sea take us back.