Chapter 27
Chapter 27
M aybe it was his imagination, but Jones felt everyone’s eyes on him as he strode through the resort for his rounds.
“Hey, Boss.” One of the café workers, Marcus, greeted him with a smile and upraised nod. Jones almost answered back with his standard greeting, I’m no one’s boss, and paused. Though it was true that he only had a few direct employees beneath him, he was senior management. Now, thanks to Carol, he began to feel the weight of it. Previously he had felt a sort of detached amusement toward the resort, exactly like someone who was putting in his time and would someday be free. But now he felt some ownership, some responsibility to make the place perfect and amazing, if only because guests were paying enough to make it so. The reputation was a five-star resort. Did it currently live up to that standard?
“Marcus,” Jones greeted him and beckoned him closer. “Why is there a wet floor sign out?”
Marcus stared at the sign, scratching his head. “Because the floor is wet.”
“Why is the floor wet?”
“Because Janine mopped.”
“Why did Janine mop in the daytime when all cleaning of public spaces is supposed to be done at night?”
“Um…” Marcus looked cornered, not wanting to rat on Janine, but also not wanting to implicate himself in any sort of trouble.
“Never mind. Will you please put the sign away and then tell Manny I want to talk to him.” If something nefarious was happening in the resort, Manny would know. Though not overtly energetic when it came to work, he had his finger on the pulse of everything, including all the juicy or scandalous gossip.
“Will do,” Marcus said, now giving Jones a wide berth and a wary side eye.
There was a not-so-small part of Jones that wanted to hail him back, to laugh it off and explain he was having a bad moment, a stressful morning. But the other, bigger part of him understood that it was time to step up and assert himself. As a senior staff member of the resort, it was up to him to make certain everything ran smoothly.
Blast Carol, he thought, but couldn’t seem to muster any anger. Instead he felt a strange sort of thankfulness. Something had been out of place and off since he began his new job. Previously he had chalked it up to being far from home and away from his comfort zone in the military, but what if it was more? What if, as Carol and Ribs both pointed out, it was time for him to take a stand and stop being so passive? In every area of his life.
He had no idea he was heading toward his bungalow until he pushed open the door and stepped inside. And then he paused on the threshold and inhaled. It smelled amazing. Somehow with Carol there it even felt different. More alive, more like home, more like his .
Her head whirled at the sound, beaming a smile in his direction over her shoulder. “Hiya.”
Jones froze in the open doorway, feelings flowing out of him like runaway horses. He tried to capture one and ask it its name, but it got away. Instead he remained immobile, attempting to orient himself. His hand gripped the handle in an effort to regain his equilibrium. All he seemed able to grasp was that Carol was here, and maybe the absolute rightness of that threw him. “Hi,” he croaked.
“Taste this,” she commanded.
“I just had a don…” he started, but too late because she was already shoving something between his lips. Whatever it was contained some sort of sticky syrup that coated her finger. He licked it before she could take it away, and now Carol froze, blinking up at him, cheeks filling with a telltale blush.
“It’s good, right?” she whispered.
“So good,” he affirmed, though he hadn’t actually tasted the food. “Come with me.”
“Where?”
He had no idea about that, either, only that it was suddenly imperative to have her beside him. “Rounds. Have to make sure everything is running before the storm hits.”
Her features tensed with sudden anxiety and her hand crept out, palm flat on his abs. “Is it going to be okay, the storm?”
His fingers slid against her waist. “It’s going to be okay,” he said with authority that reassured them both. Jones wasn’t upset about the storm, but he was downright petrified of whatever was happening between him and Carol. Nothing in his life had prepared him to meet a stranger and become swept away by such a range of emotions. But it was going to be okay. Somehow, though at this moment he couldn’t say what “okay” looked like, it would be all right. For both of them. He smiled. She smiled, then rested her head on his chest, her ear over his heart. He pressed his free hand over her ear and tipped forward, kissing the top of her sweet-smelling head.
“Ready?” he asked.
She pulled back and looked him in the eye. “I’m ready.”
He wondered, as he led the way out of the bungalow, if she was also talking about more than making rounds with him. “Where’s Ribs?”
“He went to find Victoria, wanted to ask her something. Spy stuff, maybe.” Her gaze roamed the horizon and he tried to frame everything through her lens: hedge misshapen and in need of trim, dangerous crack in walkway, trashcan near overflowing.
“I think a lot about the resort probably needs to change,” he blurted.
Carol didn’t reply, but she tipped her head, inviting him to continue.
“The little things I didn’t notice before, I’m starting to notice now.”
This time her smile was self-deprecating. “I’m sorry. I’m paid to be critical and nitpicky. It’s a job hazard that I sometimes can’t turn off. I never intended to pass it along to you.”
“No, I think it’s good. Historically I’ve been content to be a passenger, to let others lead and take command. I’ve always been that guy, the middleman who comes in and gets the job done. Not the one who does the planning, and not the one who gets the glory. Just ‘regular guy.’”
“I don’t see you that way,” Carol said.
He quirked an eyebrow at her, smiling at her impassioned tone. “Really? And how do you see me, Carol? Pause here, I need to check this generator.” They had to stop talking as he performed a test and the massive generator whirred to life. The resort had a maintenance crew, but the backup generators were so vital Jones liked to keep his own eye on them.
Carol stood with her hands pressed to her ears, eyes on the ever-darkening sky above them. The generator stopped its test, leaving unnatural stillness in its wake. Jones and Carol continued in silence that felt intimate instead of oppressive. Jones reached for her hand, clasping it in a friendly gesture. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze of pressure that felt like a little hug of reassurance. He smiled down at her. She smiled up at him. They reached the second generator. Jones paused and faced her.
“You didn’t answer,” he pointed out.
“I thought it was rhetorical,” she said.
“It’s very much not. I’d like to know what you see when you look at me.” She was looking at him now, eyes warm and bright and brown. He smoothed a hair off her face with his finger, letting it glide gently down her head.
“This feels a little like walking the plank,” she said.
“Why?”
“Because you want me to put myself out there, but I can’t see if there’s a net. I don’t know what’s waiting on the other side.”
“That’s fair,” he agreed, but he didn’t proceed, either. Both of them were waiting for the other to make a move, to take the first step, to strike the first blow. Instinctively Jones knew it should be him. He was, after all, the man. Men were supposed to be strong and brave, to instigate and take the first step. But he didn’t think he had ever been more afraid of anything. In comparison to making himself vulnerable in this way, running toward enemy gunfire was a breeze.
“The thing is, Carol…”
“Not the thing again. David, you’re either in or you’re out. I don’t think there’s a middle ground here.”
“How can you know that when you’ve never been here before?” he demanded. He felt irritated, the same sort of irritation Carol seemed particularly prone to evoke in him. It was like she opened the lid on his insides and poked around until she received a response.
Maybe it was the same for her because she put her hands on her hips and frowned at him, and it was so cute he wanted to laugh and pick her up and kiss her and shake her and a million unnamed things that bolted through his mind all at once, too jumbled for him to discern. He was the calm sky and she was the lightning bolt, cracking through from nowhere and disturbing the peace. And maybe that was what frustrated him so badly, not Carol herself but her unannounced disturbance of his tranquil ordered world. Did that mean he was old, boring, and settled now? Or had he always been and never realized? Could a guy who ate the same meal every day on repeat actually be called adventurous?
All of a sudden he wanted to step outside the safety net. He wanted to take a chance on life, on love. What he wanted, he most realized, was Carol.
His hands settled on her shoulders. “Carol.”
“David,” she said, and now she was the one who sounded panicked. She must be able to read his expression, to know what was coming. He opened his mouth to soothe and reassure her and instead felt the cool barrel of a gun press against his temple.