Chapter 18
18
“ T hanks for coming with me tonight,” Sailor said, hating to leave Maileah.
With his arm around her shoulders, he walked with her to the door of her cottage. Overhead, a light ocean breeze whispered through the palm trees.
The boat ride back from the other side of the island had been a white-knuckle ride, although he had kept the boat under control. He knew better than to mess around at night on the ocean.
“I hope you had as good a time as I did,” he said, enfolding her in his arms. Her heart was pounding as ferociously as his. Although he was tempted to suggest more to the evening, he refrained.
This was enough for him for now. He’d seen other guys from the dating app come on too strong and scare her away. He wouldn’t make that mistake.
Maileah raised her mesmerizing green eyes to his. “Best taco night ever. Was that invitation really spur of the moment, or did you plan it that way?”
“I’d be lying if I said I’d never thought about it. But everything beyond the tacos surprised me, too. ”
Sailor tightened his embrace, resisting his nearly overwhelming desire for her. He cared for her more than any other woman he’d ever met. Maybe because they both had a different outlook on life compared to most people. He had come to terms with how he was wired; she’d still tried to fit in.
He’d waited months to hold her in his arms. He was unsure how much of himself he should reveal. Yet, he didn’t want her to think tonight meant nothing to him.
Sailor nuzzled her neck, hypnotized by her velvety soft skin. “I don’t want this to be a one-off night. Can we see each other again?”
“We do all the time.” She laughed softly and gestured to her cottage. “It’s going to be even harder to miss each other now.”
“I meant like this.” He brushed her windblown hair from her face. “Would you come with me to Cuppa Jo’s tomorrow night? My father has a musician friend visiting who once toured with Jimmy Buffet. Should be some great music.” When she didn’t answer, he added, “We can go together, or you can meet me there.”
He felt her muscles tighten and braced himself.
“Don’t expect me to be your friend with benefits,” she said firmly. “You know what I want.”
Smiling, he slid his hand down the length of her arm. “After all those dating interviews, how could I forget? Goodnight, Maisie.”
As she smiled at the nickname, he kissed her cheek. He got into his vehicle and waited until she had gone inside. Nothing much happened on this island, but he liked to look out for her.
When he arrived home, Skeeter was in the living room on the sofa watching old surfing videos their father had filmed. She had a pensive expression on her face.
Sailor eased onto the couch beside her. “Why are you watching these?”
“Just remembering how much fun we used to have.”
“Do you miss surfing? ”
Skeeter flicked off the video. “I should have gone right back out. I waited too long and lost my nerve.”
“You had to heal, but it’s not too late. I know how tough you are.” She was leaving tomorrow to continue her classes. “If you’re free next weekend, come back. I’ll help you get up on your board again.”
“Maybe.” Skeeter clasped her knees and grinned. “But I want to hear about your night. I heard you took Maileah to the other side of the island for tacos.”
“Wow,” he said, surprised. “Word travels fast.”
She poked him in the ribs. “Never underestimate the speed of gossip around here. Did you have a good time dancing?”
Sailor ran a hand through his hair and chuckled. “Sounds like you got the full report. I don’t think there’s anything left to tell.”
“Not quite. I want to know what happened after you sped off on the Love Boat.”
“Nothing. Well, almost nothing. I’m playing it cool.”
Skeeter punched him playfully in the arm. “I like her. Don’t mess up while I’m gone.”
“So you’ll be back next weekend?”
She stretched and yawned. “I’ll stay at Dad’s to give you two some space.”
“It’s not like that yet.”
Skeeter wagged a finger at him. “Maybe not yet, but I know that look. You like her a lot.”
“Which is why I’m not going to rush her.”
“We’ll see.” Skeeter laughed.
After his sister went to bed, Sailor stretched out on a hammock he’d strung across his back patio. Under the moonlight, he thought about Maileah.
Like Skeeter said, he didn’t want to make a mistake.
When Maileah arrived on Crown Island, her life was a mess. Junie told him about her sister’s breakup and that she’d lost her job .
He also knew her mother was in the process of a divorce. Her father sounded like a piece of work. With so much chaos surrounding Maileah, he’d thought it better to let her chill for a while.
However, Sailor hadn’t counted on her diving into a dodgy dating app. Still, he had stuck around, even though she was cycling through candidates like she was on a quest. He had to make sure he wasn’t just another one to be crossed off her list.
Todd was the only one who had been a threat, but Sailor had taken care of that when he introduced him to Jennifer.
That next night, Sailor arrived early at Cuppa Jo’s to get the booth he wanted. Now, an hour later, everyone was singing along with the Jimmy Buffet song, “Margaritaville.”
Sailor spied Maileah at the front door. His heart clenched at the sight of her. She wore a white sundress with her hair in a casual twist to one side. Quickly, he slid out of the booth and cut through the crowd to her.
“I’m glad you came,” he said, raising his voice over the music and the raucous crowd. “You’re just in time.”
“I could hardly get in.” Someone bumped her from behind, and she stumbled into his arms, laughing. “Well, hello there. How could I miss this? Everyone in town was talking about your dad’s friend being here. They sound fabulous together.”
It was as crowded as a rock concert here, so he took advantage of that to hold her tightly. A trace of sweet perfume on her neck drew him in.
She’d been on his mind from the moment he’d rolled out of bed before sunrise to hit the beach. He surfed early this morning with friends who called themselves the dawn patrol, but she filled his thoughts. As soon as he returned home, he called her, reiterating his invitation from last night.
She agreed, but only if she could meet him here .
He guided her through the crowd and helped her into the booth.
“I missed you,” he said. “How was your day?”
A smile lit her eyes. “Incredibly productive. Maybe it was the tacos.” She clasped his hand shyly under the table. “I have so many ideas I want to talk to you about later.”
“After the music when we can hear each other better,” he said.
All he cared about now was how warm her hand felt in his. He’d longed to enjoy such a moment.
As much as Maileah might try to downplay the new evolution of their relationship, Sailor could feel eyes on them. Jo grinned from behind the counter, and his father caught his eye and nodded his approval.
When the song ended, the entire diner erupted in applause for Adrian and the other musician.
Once the cheers died down, Adrian took the microphone. “Thank you very much. We’re going to slow it down for you lovers out there. This next song is one I wrote a long time ago. It means a lot to me, and I hope you enjoy it. This one goes out to my son.”
Sailor knew the love song by heart and why his father was playing it now. He stroked Maileah’s arm. “My father wrote this for my mother. They were so much in love.”
The crowd swayed with the melody, clearly enthralled. Many people held up their phones to record Adrian’s soulful performance.
“What a beautiful song,” Maileah said, squeezing his hand. “Your father is so talented.”
Sailor’s heart swelled with pride. “My dad gave up a lot for his family but never looked back. That’s why we’re all so close.”
As the song came to an end, the crowd erupted again. He noticed Maileah observing people’s responses.
“Everyone loves that song,” she said. “Your father should record it. ”
“I don’t know if he would. It’s very personal.”
“Most love songs are written from the heart.” She cupped her chin in her hand, still looking around the diner. “Look at them. I bet they’re posting their videos on social media. Has he recorded any of his music?”
“Just garage band stuff. A while back, Skeeter helped him post some songs online to sell, but I don’t think those have ever done much.”
When a server arrived at their table, Sailor asked, “What’s the special?”
“Tacos,” Candy said, lowering her voice. “But you probably don’t want that again. How about that pastrami sandwich you like so much?”
Sailor hid a smile with his hand, but Maileah wasn’t as amused. They both ordered pastrami sandwiches with pickles, chips, and cole slaw. A local deli supplied Jo’s pastrami, so he knew it would be good.
After Candy left, Maileah asked, “Does everyone know about last night?”
“It’s a small town, and gossip is a popular sport here. Does that bother you?”
“Guess there’s no sense in trying to hide,” she said, scooting closer to him.
“Nope.” Sailor put his arm around her, feeling on top of the world. “We can be low-key, but the word is out.”
While they listened to the music, their food arrived. When Adrian and his friend took a break, Sailor turned to Maileah. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
Her face glowed with enthusiasm. “I volunteered to manage social media for the charity managing the surfing competition to benefit wounded surfers, athletes, and others who need on-island physical therapy.”
“Good idea. You’ll meet a lot of people.”
“That’s what I thought. But you won’t believe what else has happened.” Her words tumbled out. “One of the women on the committee owns a shop in town, Margaret Miller. I pitched her on a small marketing job for her store. As it happens, the committee has a marketing budget they haven’t spent because the person they’d hired left for another position before he started. So they’ve asked me to make a pitch. It’s a short-term engagement but very high profile.”
“That’s wonderful,” he said, loving how animated she was when she was happy.
“My idea is to build a campaign around the surfers. I want to get video footage, starting with you. I saw that interview you gave in Oahu, and you were great. Would you mind?”
Sailor kissed her cheek. “Happy to do it.”
“It would also be a good way to build your brand.”
“My what?”
“Your brand. I saw that shirt you were wearing with your sponsor logos.”
“Well, that’s different. Companies pay for that placement, which keeps me in equipment and travel funds.”
“I also checked your social media accounts,” Maileah said, shaking her head. “Unless you’ve hidden them, you’re not out there much. Except for videos people have taken of you or your interviews.”
“I don’t care about being a celebrity. I’m more of a soul surfer; I focus on the sport.”
“Still, social media would be super helpful.”
“Why?” He recalled what had happened to friends being bullied online. “People spout off when they have no idea what they’re talking about. Some think every wave is identical, but each one is different. Surfing is as much about reading the ocean and waiting for the right wave as it is about how you tackle it. I don’t need to explain that every day.”
“People like to peek behind the curtain. Someone could manage your accounts for you.”
He grinned. “Like you?”
“Or someone else.” Maileah paused. “Have you thought about going after a deal for surf gear? A lot of pro athletes have clothing deals. Or create your own. ”
She was good, but he shook his head. “I do all right. I’d rather spend my time catching waves. I’m always looking for ways to improve my technique.”
“I understand,” Maileah said, her eyes flashing. “But this is what I do. I could expand your brand and get more endorsement deals for you. At least let me run your social media.”
He didn’t want to dampen her enthusiasm. Yet, he hesitated to jump into business with her. Not yet anyway.
“Let’s talk about that later,” Sailor replied. “If you put your energy toward the charity, that would make me happy.”
“I have so many thoughts about that, too.”
“I’ll bet you do,” he said, smiling. Maileah was excited, and Sailor was impressed with her ideas. He liked her eagerness and passion, and he respected her marketing acumen.
On a break, his father joined them.
“Great set, Dad,” Sailor said. “Especially that last song; I’m glad you played it. And your buddy is lightning on the guitar.”
Adrian grinned, smoothing a hand over his salt-and-pepper hair caught in a ponytail. “It’s good to know I can still play with the best of them.”
Maileah’s eyes sparkled, and she leaned forward. “I saw how people responded to your song. How would you feel about writing and performing a song for the charity surfing event?”
“She’s full of good ideas,” Sailor said, filling his father in on what she was doing with the charity.
Adrian raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “That’s a good cause. Happy to do it. Did you have anything in mind?”
Maileah’s words erupted with a charming vigor. “Since the event is for injured athletes, how about a theme of champions whose souls remain unbroken despite physical injuries? How they reach within themselves and rise from defeat.”
Sailor saw a spark of creativity in his father’s eyes .
“I could work with that,” Adrian said, his fingers tapping a rhythm on the table.
While Maileah suggested themes and lyrics, Sailor sat back, watching the two of them. He marveled at how easily Maileah was integrating herself into his world. It felt natural.
While they spoke, Sailor thought about surfers he knew who’d sustained injuries, especially Skeeter. He wondered what it would take to get her back on a surfboard.
Sailor saw his father’s friend pick up his guitar.
“I’ve got to get back up there for the last set.” Adrian rose from the booth. As he did, he grinned and nodded toward Maileah. “She’s a smart one, son.”
“Don’t I know it,” Sailor said, sweeping Maileah closer. Warmth spread through his chest; having his father’s approval was important to him.
Later, as the evening wound down and the crowd began to clear, Sailor was reluctant to leave Maileah. “Do you want me to follow you home?”
“I’d like that,” she said, squeezing his hand.
Sailor held her hand, wishing she wouldn’t leave yet, but she only laughed and shook her head. He had to see her again soon.
“Will you come over for breakfast?” he asked. “Not too early. I usually catch some waves in the morning.”
“You’re cooking, I hope.”
“You bet.”
She hesitated as if weighing her options before answering. “I have work I need to do. How about we call it brunch?”