Chapter 6
The heat was already winning. Casey stood barefoot on the cool tile of her kitchen, knife moving through tomatoes that released warm bursts of juice with every cut.
The sharp green smell of basil rose from the windowsill, mixing with red onion and the constant faint salt that clung to everything in this town.
Sweat gathered at the small of her back and glued the thin cotton tank to her skin.
Overhead, the ceiling fan clicked and wobbled, pushing the same thick air around in useless circles.
She should have been deciding whether she needed more olive oil.
Instead her mind kept circling back to Stephanie.
The memory of their dinner at Captain Tony’s kept rising up uninvited.
How easily their conversation had flowed, like they’d known each other for years.
It had felt far too easy. That was the dangerous part.
Casey had gone home afterward and reminded herself of the new rule. No more unavailable women. Stephanie carried that quality in every quiet reference to Charleston, every mention of the divorce, in the fact that she was only going to be here for six weeks.
The knife paused. Casey wiped her forehead with the back of her wrist. She should offer the pool again.
Last night the invitation might have sounded like the sort of thing neighbors say without meaning it.
Stephanie needed to know it was real. The pool sat right there, cool and shaded by the strangler fig.
There was no reason for her not to use it.
She could picture her now, probably trying to read on the porch, hair sticking to her neck in the humidity. The image pulled a small smile from Casey, then something sharper low in her stomach that she shut down immediately.
Straight. Stephanie was straight. Newly single after twenty years with a man. Casey had heard enough versions of that story to know that she didn’t need to develop a crush on this woman.
Movement caught her attention through the side window.
Stephanie was walking up the street toward the rental, a cloth tote bag swinging from her shoulder.
Oranges, bread, something leafy poking from the top.
The woman moved with that careful posture, shoulders slightly pulled in like she was still learning how much space she was allowed to occupy here.
Casey’s pulse gave an annoying little jump.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she set the knife down, wiped her hands on the dish towel, and stepped onto the porch.
“Hey, neighbor.” She kept her voice light. The heat wrapped around her instantly, thick and damp. “Surviving this weather?”
Stephanie stopped at the low picket fence.
Her face turned, and that familiar warmth spread through Casey’s chest again.
The tote bag looked heavy. Stephanie’s expression shifted into a real smile that reached her eyes.
“Barely. I think the air conditioning in the rental is losing the fight. How are you not melting?”
Casey laughed, the sound easier than the tightness in her stomach. “Years of practice. Listen, I meant what I said yesterday about the pool. In case you thought I was just being polite. It’s there, it’s cool, and you’re welcome anytime. Just come through the gate whenever you want.”
The offer sat between them. Casey watched the small changes in Stephanie’s posture, the way her fingers adjusted on the tote bag. She looked tired but softer than she had that first morning. The fine lines at the corners of her eyes crinkled when she smiled again.
“I’d love that,” Stephanie said. Relief colored her voice in a way that made something in Casey unclench. “This heat is brutal. I was about to take a cold shower and call it a night.”
Casey leaned against the porch railing, the wood warm under her forearms. “Have you eaten? I’m throwing together a salad. Nothing fancy, but there’s plenty if you want to join me. We could eat, then cool off in the pool after. No pressure though. I know you came here to relax.”
Stephanie hesitated only a second. The tote bag shifted as she adjusted her weight. “I haven’t eaten. That sounds really good. Let me drop these inside and change. I’ll be over in a few minutes.”
“Perfect. Gate’s open. Just come through.” Casey watched her walk the rest of the way to the next cottage, that straight back and the way her dark hair moved against her shoulders.
Inside, she finished the salad, adding chickpeas, feta, and the last of the good olives.
A soft knock came at the screen door a few minutes later.
Casey’s stomach did a small flip she ignored.
She crossed the living room and found Stephanie standing there with her hair pulled back in a messy bun.
A few dark strands had escaped, curling against her neck from the humidity.
She held a bottle of white wine, the label slightly damp from the refrigerator case.
The sight landed somewhere behind Casey’s ribs.
She had noticed Stephanie was attractive yesterday evening.
The quiet elegance, the subtle curves, the way her eyes held attention.
But tonight, with her hair like that and the clean line of her jaw exposed, something shifted.
Casey’s gaze traced the small hollow at the base of her throat before she caught herself.
Exactly her type. The realization struck her suddenly. Athletic but soft where it mattered.
Casey swallowed against the sudden dryness in her throat. This was dangerous. “Hey. Come on in. You didn’t have to bring wine.”
Stephanie stepped inside, sandals quiet on the tile. “Seemed only fair. You’re sharing your pool with me.”
The living room felt smaller with both of them in it. Casey took the bottle. Their fingers brushed for the briefest second. The contact sent a spark up her arm that she immediately dismissed. “Make yourself comfortable.”
She led the way to the kitchen, intensely aware of Stephanie behind her.
The messy bun kept drawing her eye. The way a few loose strands clung to the damp skin of her neck.
Casey busied herself with the refrigerator, grateful for the rush of cooler air against her face.
Her pulse had quickened. She focused on the salad, tossing it with the dressing she had thrown together.
She carried plates to the small table by the window.
Conversation moved more easily than it should have.
Stephanie asked more about the dive shop, about teaching nervous tourists to trust the water.
Casey found herself describing the exact look people got when they first saw a parrotfish, that moment of pure wonder that made the difficult clients worth it.
Stephanie listened with her whole body, fork sometimes paused mid-air, dark eyes steady.
The messy bun kept slipping. One strand fell across her forehead and she tucked it back with absent fingers.
Casey kept her own gaze on her plate as much as she could.
The salad tasted good but she barely registered it.
Every time Stephanie laughed or smiled warmth bloomed in Casey’s chest. She hadn’t expected this.
Yesterday, she’d been able to think to herself that Stephanie was an attractive woman.
An observation. Now the attraction felt physical.
The graceful line of Stephanie’s wrist when she reached for her wine.
The way her hazel green eyes held hers. Casey wanted to reach across the table and smooth that stray hair back for her. The urge scared her.
She cleared the plates when they finished, waving off Stephanie’s offer to help. “I’ve got it. You’re the guest. Go ahead and change if you want. I’ll meet you out by the pool.”
Alone in the kitchen she braced her hands on the counter.
Her breathing had gone shallow. This was exactly what she had promised herself she would stop doing.
Finding something magnetic in a woman who had no interest in her.
Stephanie had unavailable written across every careful movement, every reference to the life waiting for her in Charleston.
The rule had felt so clear last night. Now it felt like something she had to grip with both hands.
She changed into her favorite black bikini.
When she stepped into the courtyard the dusk had settled into that particular Key West purple that always caught at her heart.
The air was still thick and hot against her bare skin.
The pool lights cast a soft turquoise glow across the terracotta tiles.
She dove in without ceremony. The water closed over her head in a blessed shock of cool.
It jolted her system enough to quiet her thoughts.
When she surfaced, Stephanie stood at the edge. The navy one-piece hugged her body in a way that made Casey’s mouth go dry. Strong shoulders. Subtle curves. Legs that seemed to go on forever.
Casey looked away quickly, focusing on the feel of the water against her arms instead. She did not need to catalog every detail. Did not need to notice how the suit cut high on Stephanie’s thighs or the way her stomach moved with each breath.
Stephanie came down the steps rather than jumping. Water climbed her body inch by inch. Casey forced a smile, treading water in the deep end. “Feels good, right?”
“Amazing.” Stephanie’s voice carried pure relief. She pushed off and swam a few strokes toward the center, the edges of her bun now damp. “I didn’t realize how much I needed this. Thank you again.”
They floated together. The water lapped gently. The strangler fig’s leaves rustled overhead. Casey felt her body loosen despite herself. The conversation picked up again, lighter now.
Stephanie asked about the house, about Casey’s grandmother. Casey found herself sharing more than she usually did. How close she’d been to her grandmother. That she was the only family she had until she’d died four years ago.
Stephanie listened with the same focused attention from dinner. Her face had softened in the pool lights, the fine lines around her eyes less noticeable in the blue glow. She looked more present.
Casey’s gaze kept drifting to the small hollow at her throat where water beaded and slid away.
She wanted to trace that path with her fingertip.
The thought arrived uninvited and she pushed it down hard.
Her rule. She had to focus on her new beginning.
She was not going to ruin it by falling for the straight woman next door who was still figuring out her life after twenty years of marriage.
The voice cut across the backyard like a blade.
“Wow. That didn’t take you long.”
Casey’s stomach plunged as if she had misjudged the depth of a dive.
She spun, sending a small wave sloshing against the pool’s edge, and there she was.
Melissa stood framed by the open gate, one hand resting with deliberate casualness on the latch.
The courtyard lights caught the sharp angles of her cheekbones, the dark hair pulled back into a ponytail.
Her lips were curved in that familiar half-smile, the one that usually meant trouble for someone, and her eyes held the kind of amusement that felt like a warning.
Beneath it, though, something else flickered—something possessive, something that made Casey’s skin prickle as if she had surfaced too fast from a deep dive.
The mortification hit hard and immediate, a sudden flush of heat that spread through her chest.
“Melissa.” Casey’s voice came out tighter than she wanted. She moved toward the edge, water streaming off her shoulders. “What are you doing here?”
Melissa’s gaze slid to Stephanie. Her mouth curved into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
“No wonder you’ve been ignoring my texts.
Found yourself a replacement already.” She looked directly at Stephanie, voice carrying across the water with cruel clarity.
“Don’t get too attached to this one. She moves on quick. ”
The words hit hard. Casey’s face burned. She gripped the rough concrete edge. “Melissa, that’s enough. You can’t just barge in here.”
But Melissa was already turning away. The gate clicked shut behind her. Her footsteps faded down the side path. The courtyard fell quiet except for the filter’s low hum and the sudden heavy beat of Casey’s heart.
She couldn’t look at Stephanie. Mortification sat thick in her throat, mixed with something that felt a lot like grief for the evening that had just shattered.
Casey pressed her forehead against her arm on the pool edge.
Her chest ached with a dull, heavy throb, as if her ribs were too small to contain everything she was suddenly, painfully feeling.
She drew in a breath that only seemed to tighten the knot in her lungs, the warm night air thick with the scent of chlorine and the ghost of Melissa’s words still hanging between them.