3. Chapter 3
3
Chapter 3
Sean
After an extremely early morning on the ocean searching for the Rey Del Mare , the sunken ship from the country of Isola de la Famiglia, Sean Clayton was tired. He’d been feeling that way a lot lately, especially since his nonna passed a couple weeks back, but chalked it up to his ongoing assignment for the SEALs of playing bodyguard to a runaway prince and current undercover barber of The Palms’ Retirement Community, Ryker Rockefeller, searching for said princes’ ship, and having to pretend to lead a normal life as a “retired” soldier even though he wasn’t actually retired. He and his unit had been doing this for over a year now.
What he couldn’t understand was why his team didn’t seem as impacted as he was. He was tired. They were all running around with the energy of ten monkeys. And Sean was usually the one with the energy of twenty energy drinks.
The best part of this assignment was being on his boat out on the ocean. He’d always found solace out here, even back when he was a teenager. He took a deep breath of the cool morning air, loving the scent of the briny breeze, and the deep hum of the motor on his boat.
Knox Miller, the team’s weapon specialist, sat on the bench seat at the port side of the boat, as Grayson, Gray, Braddock, one of the team leaders and their sharpshooter, stood on the same side of the boat. They both stared off in the direction of the Diamond Cove lighthouse as Sean brought them in. Even on a boat, Gray had an unnerving stillness about him.
“Are you seeing this?” Knox kept his gaze firmly planted in the distance.
“Yep.” Gray nodded.
“See what?” Sean turned his attention. “Is there finally a mobile donut ship?” That’d be awesome—even better if they had cream puffs, but that might be a bit of a stretch.
Knox lifted a massive dark brown hand and pointed at the cliff’s edge a good half mile off.
A woman, her blond hair lifting off her shoulders and dancing in the sunlight, stood there, arms out like she was about to fly. Before Sean could even think, she’d sprung up into the air, and launched off the side into a perfect swan dive.
“Whoa!” Knox scrambled to his feet just as Sean yanked the boat in that direction and hit the accelerator. Knox lost his footing and fell back on the bench seat.
The woman entered the water barely making a splash. They waited in silence as Sean counted to himself. One Mississippi . . . two Mississippi . . . His eyes didn’t leave the spot she’d gone in.
Knox darted to the end of the boat and put up the flag that let other boats know there was someone in the water.
Four Mississippi . . .
“What are you putting the flag up for?” Gray groaned, signaling around the ocean. “There’s no one else out here. It’s six-thirty in the morning.”
Five Mississippi . . .
“Instinct.” Knox grinned back at him, probably already anticipating diving in after the woman and rescuing her.
She broke the surface, and Sean took a deep breath. He slowed the boat as the woman glanced up the cliff and waved. She was fine. A group of what appeared to be senior citizens stood at the top and waved back at her, and then she was off. Swimming along the cliffside with speed and agility.
“That . . . was hot ,” Knox drawled.
“You’d think a female scallop was hot,” Sean said with a smirk, his heart still pumping unnaturally fast—not that he’d ever let on how much that’d scared him.
Knox put a hand to his chest. “Can I help it if I can see any woman’s beauty—inside and out?”
“Yeah, I’m sure that’s what you’re seeing—her inner beauty.” Sean aimed his boat for the mouth of Diamond Cove Bay.
A weird smile crossed Knox’s face.
Gray slapped Knox in the arm. “Get your mind out of the gutter, soldier.”
Knox waggled a finger at him. “Uh, uh. Out here you’re not my commander. You’re just my cranky business partner. Which means I can keep my mind firmly in the gutter if I want to.” He booped Gray’s nose.
Gray lunged for Knox, grabbing his finger, then turned his back to Knox putting his arm, and finger in a choke hold under his arm. Sean sat back to enjoy the show.
Knox was a wily one and flipped over Gray’s back forcing the hold loose, and making both men drop to the wood deck. They scrambled to their feet and lunged, and Sean, with a chuckle, swerved the boat hard to the right, knocking them off their feet and firmly on their backsides.
They glared up at him.
“What was that for?” Gray grumbled.
Sean stood, casually rested an arm on the steering wheel, and stared down at his friends lying in a heap. “You might not have to listen to Gray, but while you two are on my boat, you have to listen to me. Next man to start a fight, goes overboard.”
“Heartless,” Knox laughed, and even Gray let a smile slip. “I like that.”
Laughing, he came around the steering column and grabbed Gray’s hand, pulling him to his feet, then Knox after that. “I can’t wait for Mack and Liam to get back from Mayport Naval Base.” The Commanding Officer of their mission, James “Jimmy” Barrett kept calling one or two of the guys in at a time for briefings.
He had Sean’s regular diving crew now, Mack and Liam, which was why he was stuck with these bozos. Mack and Liam, the Scottish brothers, were currently debriefing their captain about an overeager interest in the treasure on the Rey Del Mare. If Ryker was right, the treasure was worth millions of dollars of his family’s crown jewels and other prized possessions. Technically, if they found it in American waters, America had the right to it, which was why Ryker and the guys were hoping to find it in maritime waters. That way they could send it back to Isola, which was in desperate need of the cash, and a chance to save face.
Their team’s C.O. was a good man, but he had a lot of pressure to deliver on this. The powers that be seemed to be under the impression that by helping Ryker, they were owed something, and expected payment.
You wouldn’t know it to look at Ryker, the once prince turned barber extraordinaire, but he had millions of people on Isola de la Famiglia counting on him to come through—including his cousin the king. The weight of that responsibility hung heavy on Ryker’s shoulders. It also didn’t help that someone had tried to kill Ryker, giving him the perfect opportunity to fake his death, which is why he’d ended up in their care in Diamond Cove, Florida.
It was also why they couldn’t contact Isola’s Navy to come look for the treasure. Only Ryker knew where that treasure was and they didn’t know who was responsible for the attack on his life. Which is why finding the treasure fell on them.
They headed to the mouth of the bay, and Sean couldn’t help but notice that their little adrenaline-seeking, cliff diver had beat them there and disappeared behind the rocks.
They came around the corner, and she was already on the beach, squeegeeing out her short, light blond locks. They were about fifty yards away from her, but that didn’t stop Knox from reclining back in his seat and saluting her.
“Hey, gorgeous,” Knox called out. “Great dive.”
She smiled and waved, and Sean did a double take as a flash of déjà vu hit him. Something in her movement was so familiar it called to him. By the time he turned back for a better look, the woman was already running up the wooden stairs that led to the lighthouse at an impressive clip. The feelings of familiarity faded as he watched her disappear around a bend.
“You okay there, Sean?” Gray asked. “You look like you saw a ghost.”
Sean pushed down the uneasy feelings trying to engulf him and forced a grin. “Only your pale chest.”
Gray pounded his chest. “It’s called ivory. Or so my sister tells me, thank you very much. And you’re one to talk. Do you ever put a shirt on?”
Sean glanced down at his own bare chest. “You want me to cover up all this?”
“Yes!” Knox and Gray chorused in unison.
“At least my skin doesn’t reflect the sun.” Sean grinned.
Knox stood and whipped his shirt off his head. “Please,” he said, pointing to his dark chest. “You should be so lucky.”
Gray laughed.
“I’ll have you know I was going to be an underwear model,” Sean said, surprising himself at the memory. Underoos. Wonder Woman Underoos.
“Yeah, right.” Knox slapped the air.
He shook himself out of the past. “No, really.” Sean smirked and pulled into his spot at the dock.
The guys hopped off and tied up the boat. Sean grabbed their stuff.
A family of five passed by. The mom pointed them out to the kids.
“Thank you for your service,” the dad said.
The kids echoed their dad’s words.
“You’re welcome.” Gray gave the kids one of his rare smiles—the one that had people comparing him to a young Chris Hemsworth. Think cameo in Star Trek, not Thor.
The harbor master saluted them. “Thank you for your service, Marines.”
Gray gritted his teeth, but Sean quickly jumped in. “You’re welcome. But we’re Navy.”
The guy kept going.
At the dock, a couple of women jogged past. “Thank you for your service.”
The three men came up short. Okay, this was weird.
“You’re welcome,” Knox drawled as he watched the women jog off. “Not that I mind, but what’s going on?”
Sean slapped Knox over the head. “Stop gawking.”
They weren’t in their uniforms. So how did people know?
Gray scratched his blond head. “Veterans Day is next week?”
“But how do they know us ?” Knox asked.
They hauled their gear up to Sean’s building. The “Bob’s Underwater Salvage Company” sign’s paint fading away on the metal siding. The building was two stories tall, with few windows, and big enough to store their underwater salvage boat, their speedboat, jet skis, and a whole slew of equipment—it wasn’t pretty, but it was gorgeous to Sean. What wasn’t his was the Marine flag that hung instead of his Navy flag under the American flag on the flagpole he’d installed out front last year.
They stopped dead in their tracks as they stared at the offending flag.
“What the—” Gray started.
Knox ripped something off the front door. “Look at this.” It was the Diamond Cove Times. “Our picture’s in the paper.”
Sure enough, there was a picture of their SEAL unit—Liam, Mack, Sean, Gray, Aaron, Knox, and Wolfe—right on the front page of the paper.
“Local Underwater Salvage Company owned and operated by retired Marines?” Gray spat out the last word like it was vinegar. “What is this garbage?”
Sean grabbed the paper with his one free hand and scanned through it. He read out loud, “Be sure to thank these local heroes for their long-time service in the Marines.”
“We’re Navy,” Gray snarled. “Freaking SEALs! Marines my . . .” he continued to grumble.
Sean tipped the paper to the side to read the handwritten note scrawled in bright green marker, “You’re welcome. Love, Titan Green.”
Knox scratched his head. “Isn’t this the guy that owns Titan Marine Salvage?”
Sean nodded. “Yep.” Liam had accidentally started a prank war between Sean’s company and Titan’s when he’d called NASA to report finding a piece of a space shuttle and given Titan’s company the credit. While the find would’ve earned them a lot of good publicity, it also would’ve wrapped them up in red tape for weeks if not longer. So Liam had called NASA claiming that Titan had found it. It looked like Titan and his crew decided to strike back.
Fine by Sean. He grinned. He had the perfect idea for revenge in mind in the form of loose nuts, bolts, and screws scattered across Titan’s speed boat deck. Ha!
Sean shoved the paper at Knox and unlocked the door to his building. Knox stared at the groups’ photo, and Gray furiously pulled down the Marine flag.
“Who could ever mistake us for Marines?” Gray spat.
“I’m getting this picture framed.” Knox grinned. “Not every day we get a picture in the paper.”
“And making me a copy,” Sean added. He’d have it framed for the wall in his office—he’d put it right next to the photo of him and his family. That’s how he saw his unit anyway.
“Yes, sir,” Knox said without taking his eyes off the image.
The group headed inside, and Knox and Gray carefully folded the Marine flag, Gray scowling and grumbling under his breath about how he was obviously a SEAL the entire time.
Sean loved this building. From the outside, it looked rusted and worn, but the inside was clean, organized, and beautiful from the shellacked cement floors to the two-story main room with steel beams overhead to his little office wrapped in metal siding. He even had a loft apartment above his office he sometimes used when he was too tired to drive home, and a couple secret passages that had come in handy recently when that attack happened on Ryker a few months ago. He’d never been so proud to own anything, aside from his salvage boat, in his life.
His phone rang, and he pulled it out of his swim shorts. It was a WhatsApp video call from his dad and brothers. “Hello?”
“There you are, we’ve been calling you for the last half hour.” His dad came into view—he had a sort of Antonio Banderas vibe about him, only Italian-American and with a slightly longer face and broader cheekbones. He even kept his hair a little longer and shaggy like how Banderas had worn it in Zorro.
Axel wore his hair the same—only Sean and Johnny kept their hair “Grandpa Don approved”—not so long it couldn’t be combed and neatly styled. Still, Sean and his brothers looked more or less like younger versions of their dad, who looked like a younger version of Grandpa. The family resemblance was strong . Sean looked the most different of them all because instead of brown eyes, he had hazel eyes the color of honey, and he also had dimples which he’d inherited from their mother. But if they were ever in a line-up, he didn’t think those characteristics would save him from being fingered for a crime his brothers had committed.
“We were on the ocean,” Sean said.
“Likely story,” Johnny said. “Where’s your shirt? Lose it overboard?”
“Where’s your cuff links?” Sean returned, why was everyone always on him about not wearing a shirt? This was a beach town. He owned an underwater salvage company.
Johnny glanced down at his Hugo Boss and straightened his red pocket square. He’d gotten into the habit of wearing expensive suits the last couple of years. The suits were classy, but Sean couldn’t help but think they made Johnny look like a mob boss, especially combined with slicked-back hair and his tattoos—also new additions in the last two years.
“On top of my dresser.” Johnny smirked.
“You mean my dresser?” Axel said. “How long have you been at my place exactly?” Axel had recently gotten engaged to his girlfriend, Kate, and was recording music with his new producer, Callum, here in Diamond Cove. He’d all but moved here, having purchased one of the cliff-side homes, but he still owned his place in Los Angeles. For some reason, Johnny had all but made himself at home.
The moment Knox and Gray heard Axel’s voice, they jumped in behind Sean, inserting themselves in the frame, and nearly bowling Sean over.
“Axel—written any new songs for your favorite Navy SEALs?” Knox asked.
Axel shook his head. “Not lately.”
“Man gets himself a gorgeous, classy girlfriend, and all he can do is write love songs,” Knox said. “Typical.”
Axel and Dad chuckled.
“I can write a piece on the hygiene practices of the typical on-duty SEAL if you’d like?” Johnny offered. “I’ve heard some interesting stories about someone’s toe-jam that’d make a great focal point.”
Knox spun on Sean. “You promised not to say anything.”
Sean shrugged and lifted one hand in a “what” gesture. “They’re my brothers,” he said sheepishly.
“Which means they tortured it out of him,” Dad said.
“Man gets himself a couple tattoos, and suddenly he thinks he’s a gangster,” Gray said, looking pointedly at Johnny. He lifted his wrist and pointed to his SEAL logo tattoo that said, The only easy day was yesterday . “I’ve had this for twelve years.” It wasn’t his only tattoo either. And he wasn’t the only guy in their unit with tatts. Mack had a Celtic cross on his right shoulder that extended down into a half sleeve, amongst others, and Wolfe—the team’s man of mystery—had who knew how many.
“Tattoos are super jammin’ ,” Dad said. “Maybe I should get one.”
“Oh, yeah, great idea, Dad,” Sean mocked. “Hey! You could get Mom’s face tattooed on your chest for her birthday! I bet she’d love that.”
“You think?” Dad scratched the back of his head.
“No,” Sean, Axel, Johnny, Knox, and Gray said in unison.
“Good to see you, Mr. Clayton.” Gray nudged into frame. “How’s it going? How’s the lovely Mrs. C?”
“Panicking about getting older,” Dad said with a light chuckle. “And please, call me Wayne. Speaking of which, Sean, that’s why I’m calling.”
Sean squirmed. He still hadn’t gotten Mom a birthday gift, and her surprise party was in a couple days.
“Right, that’s our cue to leave,” Gray said.
“See you later.” Knox waved at the camera.
They headed for the door, and Gray walked backward. “Don’t forget you’re helping me with my house tonight.”
“You mean your run-down barn?” Knox jabbed Gray in the ribs with his elbow.
“I wouldn’t have to get help from Sean if my business partner would spend more time doing his job,” Gray said.
“Dude, your house is going to take—” Knox ticked off his list on his fingers. “Time, at least two dozen men, more money than you have, and a miracle.”
“Shut it,” Gray shoved Knox and looked at Sean again. “See you at seven?”
“Don’t worry, I got you,” Sean said.
The guys left, and Sean returned his attention to his family.
“Do you have your mom’s birthday gifts?” Dad asked.
“Yes, Dad,” Axel and Johnny echoed. Sean gave a vague nod. Dad tended to stress. If he thought Sean hadn’t gotten his gift yet, he’d freak.
“And they’re not like whoopie cushions or gift cards, right?” Dad ran a hand through his pepper hair which was starting to get a few strands of salt here and there.
“We already learned our lesson there,” Johnny assured—and he was right. It’d been a hard lesson, learned well.
“Good because you know your mother likes thoughtful gifts.”
Yeah, she did. Problem was, she was impossible to buy for. Not that Sean considered himself very good at shopping to begin with, but Mom was especially difficult. Anything she wanted, she always bought for herself. The good news was, he was pretty sure he had backup to help him out with his predicament. He grinned at the thought.
Johnny leaned closer to his phone which he had propped up on something. “How’s Grandpa doing, Sean?”
Dad raised his brows. “Why don’t you ask me? I see him every Sunday, have done for years.”
“He’s keeping busy,” Sean said.
“Has he done any more super baking?” Johnny asked.
“Nope.” He’d made a few pastries here and there, but mostly his intense focus had transferred to other areas—like sweeping the sand on the beach, spending way too many hours at the gym, whipping the male retirees into shape, and super crafting. A couple weeks ago, he’d caught Grandpa creepily snapping photos of three women at the bakery while they weren’t paying attention. He still had no idea what that was about. Grandpa had gotten downright snappy and ordered him out. Sean hadn’t even gotten the Bear claw he’d gone there for before being marched out the door. Not that he had any intention of telling his family that. “He’s fine. Just . . . trying to figure out what to do now that his life and schedule don’t revolve around Nonna.”
A moment of silence proceeded that statement. Nonna had been special to all of them. Her loss was hitting everyone hard, but they were dealing.
Dad cleared his throat. “You’ll be there to help him set up before the party?”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got him,” Sean said.
* * *
Sean pulled into Grandpa’s driveway and parked his Jeep. Down the drive, in front of the garage sat one of The Palms’ golf carts. Grandpa had taken up golf about two years ago for some reason. He was much better now than when he’d started, but still not great, and Sean never got the impression that Gramps liked it very much. That said, Sean wouldn’t be surprised if Grandpa had decided to start practicing for ten hours a day now. At least if he did that, he’d have his friends, Walt and Harry, to keep him company instead of doing something alone where he had too much time to think.
Bounding up the porch steps, Sean rapped on the door and tried the handle. It was locked. Grandpa wasn’t home, which meant he could be in any number of places. He ran around the back of the house and looked up and down the beach. Not there either.
He glanced at his watch. It was half past seven, which meant Grandpa was probably at breakfast. Perfect, because right now, Sean wasn’t here for Grandpa.
He was just past Gramps’ bungalow when he remembered the golf cart. He jogged over to it and smirked when he found the keys still in the ignition. He backed it around his jeep and drove the golf cart up to the back exit of The Palms, then parked, and jogged inside.
The building was relatively new, but gave off a vibe that reminded Sean of The Great Gatsby. The front entrance had an aviary with large palms in it, and a fountain, where the communities’ mascots, Bear, the Labrador Retriever, and Sweetie, the blind baby alligator, liked to sun themselves. They were there now, Bear on his back chewing on a blankie, and Sweetie with her tail in the water. If they weren’t the cutest things ever, he didn’t know what was.
He made a right and headed for the dining area, which was decorated in light colors and had large windows looking out over the pool and gardens.
Sure enough, Grandpa sat chatting with his friends at a perfectly set table. Nancy saw him first, her blond head lifting as she waved in his direction. “Sean!”
Gramps spun in his chair and narrowed his eyes at Sean. He was still in his workout gear, and looking a little sweatier than he normally did by this point. He’d probably killed a punching bag this morning.
“What are you doing here?” he said in a tone that was slightly biting, then cleared his throat and repeated the question in a nicer tone. “What are you doing here?”
Sean chuckled and slapped him on the back. “Don’t worry, Gramps. I’m not here for you.” He glanced around at the ladies—Winnie, Nancy, Rosa, and Polly. “Ladies, aren’t you looking lovely this morning.”
Sean could almost feel the indignation wafting off Grandpa, but Gramps’ emotions, for maybe the first time in his life, were totally out of control, so Sean was inclined to be lenient with him.
The women all blushed. Even Nancy and Polly got a little pink in the cheeks, and that never failed to amuse Sean.
Winnie fluffed her updo. “Oh, stop.”
“You’re such a charmer.” Rosa giggled.
Sean gave a nod to the other men at the table, Walt and Harry, of course, Horace, Winnie’s husband, and Miguel, Rosa’s husband. “Morning.”
Walt nodded back, and Miguel said, “Hola.”
“Where’s Virginia this morning?” Sean asked.
Harry grinned under that white mustache of his and tugged on his pageboy cap. “She’s going out with Landry today for pedicures.”
“Oh,” Sean said, not knowing what else to add.
“You’re looking for us?” Polly asked, a fork with a skewered piece of cantaloupe held aloft in her hand.
Sean nodded.
“How can we help you?” Nancy dabbed a white napkin over her lips.
“My mom’s birthday is in a few days, and I have no idea what to buy her.” Sean placed his hands on his hips and sighed. Sure, he was hamming it up a bit, but he really did need help. And these ladies had met his mom on multiple occasions over the years—they’d know better than Sean what to get her. Plus, they loved him. They wouldn’t be able to resist, and Sean could use some grandma affection today.
Gramps turned all the way around in his seat, his normally perfectly combed white hair, messy on the sides. “My land, son. You haven’t gotten her gift yet?”
Sean shook his head, glancing from one lady to the next. “I was hoping, when you’re done with your breakfasts, that you would be willing to help me pick out a gift?”
“ ?Por supuesto! ” Rosa declared at the same time that Winnie clasped her hands in front of her heart and said, “We’d love to help.”
Sean signaled toward the backdoor. “Great. I have a golf cart waiting.”
In an almost perfectly synchronized move, the ladies stood. Winnie and Rosa kissed their respective husbands on the cheeks, Nancy patted Don on the shoulder. Rosa took one of Sean’s arms and Winnie took the other.
Sean breathed out in relief. “Thank you.” He glanced at the men. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Bring me a Danish?” Walt asked.
“Ooo, me too.” Harry raised his hand.
Gramps glared at them, his hands fisting on the table. He’d had Sean on a sweets diet since the funeral.
Sean grinned. “No problem, I got you.” A perfect excuse to get himself a Danish. Sweet.
* * *
Within five minutes, Sean pulled to a stop at the beach end of the Pier Shops and parked the golf cart in a spot specially reserved for carts. There was a surprising number of them in Diamond Cove.
They passed a lady heading for one of the shops—probably worked there based on her semi-casual apparel. She waved. “Thank you for your service.”
Sean almost came up cold. How did she know . . .? Right. That was probably going to be happening a lot through Veterans’ Day what with their pictures in the paper. Their undercover situation felt precarious and he internally cringed. He waved back. “Thank you.”
“Isn’t that nice?” Polly said, waving at the woman as well. “You know her?”
Sean shook his head.
“I think I have the perfect shop in mind,” Winnie said, taking Sean’s arm again and steering him down the center path between shops.
“Is it the same one I’m thinking of?” Nancy asked, with a knowing grin on her face.
“Where you got your dress for Grace’s and Ryker’s wedding?” Rosa asked.
Winnie and Nancy both nodded.
“Yes, that’ll do just right,” Polly said, this time taking Sean’s other arm.
Sean thought back to Ryker’s wedding to Nancy’s granddaughter, Grace. It was only a few months ago, which was why Ryker had been MIA so much lately. He was still in the honeymoon phase. It was fine by him that the lovesick prince sequestered himself with his new wife. They could keep all that lovey-dovey googly eyes behind closed doors thank you very much.
Sean tried to remember Nancy’s dress. It had flowers on it and was flowy-ish. “I liked your dress,” Sean said. “It was pretty. Classic.” He cringed at his descriptive word of choice while other words like “BOHO,” “lace,” and “eclectic” came to mind. Sean’d never been good at describing women’s clothes.
There went Nancy’s blush again. “Thank you.”
They came to a stop outside a shop called Leather and Lace Boutique and Soda Shop.
Sean blinked. “Uh—” Please don’t let this be the kind of shop this sounded like it was. “You all know I’m shopping for my mom , right?”
“You’re not afraid, are you?” Winnie asked, clearly provoking him.
“Buck up, SEAL, you can handle it.” Polly smacked him on the back. Hard.
“Could Gramps handle it?” Sean smiled at them.
Rosa laughed. “Why don’t you tell us?”
“Ooo, a dare.” Sean stood tall, jumped up and down like a boxer, and wiggled out his muscles, then, said, “Let’s do this.”
That made the ladies laugh.
They lead him inside. The shop was filled with leather boots, buckles, lacy tops and dresses, leather pants perfect for bikers of the female persuasion, jewelry, riding gear, and more, all intermingled in a way that made everything seem like it belonged together. Against the back wall was a row of dressing rooms with yellow and aqua drapes covering the fronts. A bar sat against the far wall with a woman behind it cleaning glass shelves filled with different soda flavorings in all colors: purple, green, lime green, red, maroon, blue, orange, brown, yellow, purple, and more reflected in the mirrored wall. There were a good fifty or more flavors there. The counter that separated the woman from the rest of the room kind of reminded Sean of a bar with a beer tap, only instead of beer, it had a soda station. It also had a long glass counter with jewelry on display and a register.
Déjà vu hit him again, everything about this place screamed familiarity, the name of the woman he’d desperately tried and failed to forget for almost a decade. But there was no time for that right now. He clamped down on those feelings, and faced the ladies. “So, where do we start?”
“Jewelry?” Polly asked.
Sean shook his head. “No, ma’s forbidden us from buying her jewelry.” And tickets of any kind. “We’re all in such different income brackets, she didn’t think it’d be a good idea.” That was after Johnny had bought her diamond earrings a few years ago and Axel had gotten her tickets to one of his shows in Italy, along with round-trip flights, and a room at a fancy hotel. Sean had gotten her a SEAL carafe and had taken her to lunch. Yeah, that’d been a fun year. Mom hadn’t minded, but Sean had. Now that he owned his own company, he was doing much, much better, but the rules stuck. “We’re not supposed to spend over a hundred dollars.”
Nancy patted his arm. “Don’t worry, we’ll find the perfect thing. Your mom loves boho chic.”
She did. This place was the perfect place to buy her a gift. He wondered when it’d opened. He’d never noticed it before.
The group dispersed and within a few minutes, they’d found multiple items. Between the five of them, they picked a top and skirt that Sean could admit were not just a good gift, but the right gift for his mom. She’d feel young, and “hip,” her word, and—he cringed—sexy. This outfit would be flattering on her, and she loved yellow and white. Really, it was perfect.
Sean headed for the counter with the register and spoke over his shoulder. “Anyone want a drink from the soda bar?”
A chorus of nos followed as he set his items to the left of the register—the soda fountains, which looked like bar taps, were to the right. Well, he was getting sarsaparilla, and Gramps wasn’t here to stop him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen it from a fountain machine and it called to him.
He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and glanced up. The woman behind it was facing away, folding clothes on a table along the wall. He couldn’t see her face in the mirror—too many soda flavorings in the way, but man, from what he could see, this woman was a looker. Her short, light blond, almost silvery hair, hung in waves just past her nape, showing just enough of the long line of her neck and her golden skin. She wore a long pearlescent coral-colored skirt with a beaded brown belt, that perfectly showcased her curvy hips, and a white tank that showed off the smooth muscles of her arms.
He cleared his throat. “Excuse me.”
The woman turned. The woman’s dark blue—indigo—gaze settled on him, her eyes going wide. Her plump lips formed a perfect “o” and Sean’s heart about thudded out of his chest.
“Blue?” he rasped in disbelief.
“Sean?” She blinked rapid fire, then rubbed her eyes.
A smile started to crack his face. It had been her he’d seen at the beach that morning. The cliff diver. Part of him had known, even though he hadn’t seen her clearly. Part of him would always know.
She was stunning. Her cheeks were dusted with sunshine, her skin was bronzed, and her muscles toned. Her long, lean limbs and the soft curve of her neck, were as familiar as the steering wheel of his boat.
She frowned, grabbed the soda gun, and fired. Sticky sweet water sprayed him in the face and soaked his shirt.
“Blue!” he yelled through the spray, as he covered his head, and ducked back.
The spray stopped, and before Sean could get his bearing, she was gone. Like a wisp in the wind. Like she’d never been there. His soda-covered shirt the only proof that she’d stood in front of him seconds ago.
Rosa grabbed his elbow. “ Ven, mijo .” She tugged and loosened his feet from where they’d grabbed onto the floor. “Come, come.”
She led him outside with Nancy taking up the rear. He allowed them to guide him, his mind locked on the fact that Blue was in Diamond Cove with preciseness. He didn’t know where Polly and Winnie were, and at this moment, he didn’t particularly care. He felt like the world had just turned upside down. After nine years, he’d finally seen Blue again, and she’d spritzed him in the face with soda from a fountain hose.
The Pier Shops were beginning to fill with people, and many passed, staring him down with curious looks on their faces. He just hoped he didn’t run into anyone he knew. He was not up for explaining the—he licked around his lips—Ginger ale covering him.
“What was that about?” Nancy handed him a few napkins. She must have grabbed them before following him out.
He shrugged. “I don’t know.” He had an idea, actually, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to share it with his grandpa’s friends.
“You obviously know one another,” Rosa said.
“It’s been a while,” he said, trying to be vague.
Nancy nodded. “You dated.” She said it like a point of fact, no questions about it.
A gleam sparked in Rosa’s eyes that Sean didn’t care for one iota.
He cleared his throat. “A decade ago. We were just kids. She broke up with me and we haven’t seen each other until now. And as you can see—” He signaled to his wet t-shirt. “Things didn’t end well.”
“She’s very beautiful, no?” Rosa asked.
Even more beautiful than he remembered. Back when he knew her, she still seemed to be figuring herself out—now, she was the fully realized version of who she was always meant to be. A strong, confident woman. Brave enough to jump off a fifty-foot cliff. A business owner of her dream shop. Boho chic, motorcycle gear, and soda. Yeah, everything about this was everything she’d dreamed about then. “Yes.”
Rosa grabbed Nancy’s arm in a death grip as she sucked in a breath, and the exhaustion that Sean had felt out on his boat this morning returned like a gale-force wind.
He rubbed at his eyes—he had one major problem to deal with now. “My presents are still in there.” He did not want to go back in.
“Don’t worry about that,” Nancy said. “We’ll take care of it.”
He gave her a grateful nod.
“What are you going to do now?” Rosa asked, fiddling with her cross pendant.
Sean glanced down the row of shops toward the bakery—he could smell the yeast of baking bread from here. “I guess I’m going to go get Harry and Walt’s Danishes and take ‘em to them, then head home and change.” He was also going to get himself a Danish or two . . . or three. Oh, wait! “I need to take you ladies back to The Palms.”
“Tell you what,” Nancy said. “You leave the keys, and we’ll take ourselves back.”
“And leave your mom’s gifts with your abuelo .” Rosa smiled. “Sound good?”
“Thank you.” He kissed each woman on the cheek. “And tell Polly and Winnie thanks for the help.”
They shooed him off, and he kept a sly eye on them until they went back into Blue’s shop. As soon as they were out of sight, he all but darted for the bakery. Forget three, he needed a baker’s dozen.