Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
JULES
I turned to Eli, mortification warring with a secret thrill as I smoothed my decidedly messy hair. “I’m sorry about her. She’s not known for her acting.”
Eli laughed, his eyes crinkling and that damn dimple showing up again. “No need to apologize. She’s right, though. I’m not sure I want to leave you by yourself. Want some company?”
My heart did a little flip. “Well, I guess it’d be a shame to waste the night. Want to grab another drink?”
“Thought you’d never ask.” Eli shot me a lazy smile that made my lungs freeze mid-breath, then led the way to the bar.
As we parked ourselves on two stools, the atmosphere buzzed again with laughter and upbeat music.
The bartender, a tattooed guy with an infectious smile, greeted Eli like an old friend and poured us two cold drafts without needing to ask.
“Here you go.” He slid the frosty mugs our way. “On the house for the hero of the night.”
Eli inclined his head, lifting his glass in a mock salute. “Guess I should come in here more often if this is how I get treated.” Turning to me, he clinked his glass to mine and leaned closer. “By the way, I’ve got some good news on the work front. The new dive computers came in today.”
“That’s good. Are you happy with them?”
He nodded. “They’ll be perfect for what we need. And you guys might even be the first to use them, in the final pool session.”
I grinned back at him, unsure if the buzz had anything to do with the alcohol. “Then I’m grateful that you’ve given me this honor.”
“Only the best for Ms. Jules Verne.”
As we sipped our beers, the conversation flowed surprisingly easily.
We talked about everything from our favorite spots on Dove Key to what he used to get up to in high school.
Unsurprisingly, he spent a lot of time getting in trouble.
I found myself laughing comfortably at his stories.
And very aware that we were interacting on a completely new level.
Our old animosity was ancient history right now.
The night air was balmy when we left Salty’s, a gentle breeze providing the perfect cooling touch.
The bar occupied a prime lot on the primary corner of town, and it had always been a bit of a mystery why the place had never been spruced up.
Eli and I fell into step as we walked beneath the ornate lampposts of Main Street, their riotous flower baskets lit softly.
“So,” Eli said, breaking the comfortable silence. “You mentioned earlier that you’re not usually a dive bar kind of girl, thank God. What’s your usual scene?”
I laughed, a bit self-consciously. “Lacey and I usually go to Conch Republic, where you saw us several weeks ago. But honestly? Most nights, you’d find me curled up with a good book and a glass of wine. Thrilling, I know.”
“Hey, no judgment here.” Eli held up his hands. “Sometimes a quiet night is exactly what a person needs.”
Something in his tone made me glance over. His easy smile was there, but his eyes held a hint of… something. Weariness? Longing?
Before I could stop myself, I asked, “Is that what you need? A quiet night?”
Eli’s steps faltered for a moment. “Sometimes,” he admitted. “I felt like a little solitude tonight, which is why I went to Salty’s. I’m not as well known there.”
“Guess you didn’t get much solitude.”
He laughed, that relaxed, easy sound. “That place can get a little rough. I’m glad I was there.”
“Me too, Eli. Even if it wasn’t what either of us planned on.”
He pressed a hand against his chest. “Don’t get me wrong, I love the whole beach bum lifestyle. Though being a dive instructor is a lot more work than people think. But occasionally… I don’t know. It can feel a bit hollow.”
I couldn’t resist looking up at him. Seeing how the moonlight painted his face in shades of silver and shadow as we walked along the sidewalk, transforming the carefree dive guy I thought I knew into someone different.
My gaze traced the sharp angle of his jaw, the relaxed set of his broad shoulders.
There was a quiet strength there I’d never noticed before, an intriguing depth beneath his easygoing exterior.
I quickly looked away when Eli darted a glance at me. “Can I ask you about something?”
My heart did this strange little flippy thing. “Sure.”
“Harper mentioned you gave up a new desktop you needed so Annie could keep her hours.” His voice was gentle, probing.
I stiffened, surprised he knew about that. “It was nothing,” I said quickly, adopting my best no-nonsense tone. “Just a simple reallocation of resources. Annie’s ability to pay her bills took precedence over updating my hardware. Basic cost-benefit analysis.”
Eli’s eyebrows rose slightly. “You could have let Harper handle it. You didn’t have to get involved.”
I bristled at his probing, feeling strangely defensive. “It’s my job to manage the resort’s finances. I was just doing what needed to be done.”
Eli’s gaze was warm, curious. “You care about the staff, don’t you?”
I swallowed hard, fighting the urge to retreat behind my usual walls. “Of course. They’re good people. They deserve better than what we can offer right now. What I can offer them.”
A small smile played at the corners of Eli’s lips. “Sounds like there’s more to Jules Verne than just spreadsheets and budget reports.”
I hesitated, my heart pounding. This wasn’t me—sharing personal thoughts, especially with Eli, of all people. But something in his gentle probing made me want to explain.
“I don’t like… the attention,” I confessed. The admission surprised even me. I rarely acknowledged my own discomfort with vulnerability.
Eli cocked his head, his indigo eyes thoughtful. “The attention?”
I took a long breath of the sultry air, running a hand over my loose tresses. “When people make a big deal out of, uh, kindness. It’s uncomfortable. I-I just…” I struggled to find the right words. “I don’t want people to see me as soft.”
Eli’s brow furrowed. “And that would be bad because…?”
I let out a humorless chuckle. “Because soft gets you hurt. Soft doesn’t keep a struggling resort afloat.”
The words hung in the air between us. I realized I was giving Eli a glimpse behind my carefully constructed persona—the meticulous accountant, the by-the-books professional. And I wasn’t at all sure that was a good idea.
“Plus,” I added, “I felt guilty about approving those new dive computers for you when we’re facing staff cuts. It didn’t seem fair. And adding a new desktop for myself was just the cherry on top. Delaying my new computer was an easy decision.”
Eli’s eyes widened, a flash of—was that admiration?—sweeping across his face. “I had no idea that side of you even existed.”
I shrugged. “There’s a lot about me you don’t know, Eli.”
“I agree.” The moonlight caught the curve of his jaw as he nodded, the corners of his mouth lifting. I smiled back, warmth blooming in my chest that I couldn’t squash.
“Guess that goes both ways,” I said as we strolled under the pink canopy of Sweet Dreams Bakery. “You’ve got more depth than I gave you credit for.”
Eli’s smile widened, but before he could respond, I forged ahead, desperate to regain some semblance of control over the conversation. And my emotions. “Look, I know my approach to life and work can be rigid. It keeps people at a distance, but that’s kind of the point.”
“What is?”
I took a deep breath. “I’ve learned the hard way that emotions can be a liability.
Logic and order? Those are things you can count on in this world.
A math problem always has the same solution.
” I let out a self-deprecating laugh. “I know how it sounds. The accountant finding comfort in spreadsheets and financial projections. But that control? It’s a hell of a lot safer than the alternative. ”
As soon as the words left my mouth, I wanted to snatch them back. I was sure a patented Eli Coleridge zinger was about to come my way.
I was wrong.
Eli’s expression softened, his smile fading. “I get what you’re saying. We all have our ways of dealing with… stuff.” He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture I’d seen a hundred times before, but now it seemed different. Vulnerable, almost. “Mine is humor.”
My breath caught. There was a depth to his words, a hint of old pain that resonated with my own.
“Humor, huh?”
“Yeah.” He laughed, but it lacked his usual easy sound. “Crack a joke, deflect with a witty one-liner. It’s easier than facing things head-on sometimes, you know?”
I nodded mutely, shocked at the admissions both of us were giving tonight. At how honest they were. And how similar.
“But I’m glad I got to see the real Jules tonight,” he added, his gaze softening even further.
“And I’m glad I got to see the real Eli. Bar fight and all.”
He held up a finger. “Near bar fight. The guy slinked off, remember?”
“I haven’t forgotten.” I sighed. “That was a good example of why I stay away from men. I seem to attract troublemakers.”
He grinned as he walked with both hands in the pockets of his shorts. “Present company included?”
That made me laugh. “Oh, yes. Absolutely.” Both smiling, we walked along for a few steps before I found myself opening up again. “My walls and the poor choices in men are related, as you might have guessed.”
Eli nodded, his expression softening as he stared at me. “What happened? If you don’t mind me asking.”
I took a deep breath. “It was during college. I thought we were serious—forever serious. Until he cheated on me. Real cliché, right?”
“Damn,” Eli muttered. “That’s rough. I’m sorry.”
“It was a long time ago.” I shrugged, trying to ignore the old ache. “Close to ten years. But it made it hard to trust people for a while. Still does, if I’m being honest.”
Eli’s gaze held steady on me, a flicker of understanding igniting in his eyes.
“I understand. Trust is a funny thing.” He paused, as if weighing his words carefully.
“My parents had a… rocky relationship. They fought a lot, but everyone thought they were just one of those couples who dealt with crap like that. I thought that’s what love looked like.
Until my dad walked out one day and never looked back.
At first, I thought I’d be fine with it, you know? But then it messed with my head.”
I tilted my head slightly, intrigued. “Messed with your head how?”
His shoulders slumped a little, and he raised a hand to the back of his neck and rubbed. “I guess I just started to think that love was always going to end up in disaster. I mean, I obviously have no idea what a healthy relationship looks like.”
“What about Brenna and her husband? They look like a great couple.” Though Eli’s sister had her own life away from Sunset Siesta, she was still a regular visitor, and now Hunter with her.
He lifted one shoulder uncomfortably. “Yeah, and that’s great for them. But what if they’re the exception? Hell, most couples I know end up tearing each other apart. So I avoid anything serious. I like to keep things light, fun… you know?”
“Like your dive classes.”
Eli laughed, and that made me feel better. I liked the sound of his laugh. “Exactly! It’s all about making sure no one drowns while I show them the perfection of diving. If they get scared, I tell them to focus on their breathing and enjoy the ride.”
“You’re a really good instructor, Eli. I’m sorry if I was harsh about that.”
He shrugged. “I dished it out pretty good myself. So I’m sorry too.”
“Look at us now! Talking like two grown adults.”
“Not an insult to be found! Could be dangerous, Jules.”
I took a deep breath. Dangerous, indeed. Because now I was seeing the man next to me in a completely new light.
We rounded the corner onto my street, the soft glow of streetlights illuminating the palm-lined sidewalk. My townhouse loomed ahead, and a strange mix of disappointment and anticipation swirled in my stomach.
“Well, this is me,” I said, gesturing to the modest two-story building.
Eli’s eyes wandered over the neat facade. “Nice place. Very… Jules.”
I raised a brow. “Is that a compliment or an insult?”
He grinned, and that dimple appeared again. “Definitely a compliment. It’s orderly and welcoming but not stuffy. Kind of like you.”
I burst out laughing and fumbled for my keys. “Thanks. I think.”
We reached my front door, and my stomach fluttered as I turned to face Eli.
He stood completely still, both arms at his sides as his eyes met mine.
They were inscrutable, not the open book he usually was.
The air between us became charged, electric.
And for an endless, breathless moment, I wondered if he was going to lean in and kiss me.
My heart hummed in my chest. Did I want him to?
The responsible part of my brain said no.
But every other fiber of my being was screaming yes, please.
Eli shifted his weight and gave me a slow nod, breaking the spell. “Well, good night, Jules. Thanks for the chat.”
“Right.” I blinked, trying to hide my disappointment. “Thanks for your help tonight. Good night, Eli.”
He flashed that easy smile and turned to go. I watched him stroll down the sidewalk, his broad shoulders silhouetted against the streetlights. And it occurred to me I didn’t even know where he lived. There was so much I didn’t know about him.
And now I wanted to.