Page 20 of Sand in My Boots

“Checking in about the boat ride. Still good for this afternoon?” My teeth draw my bottom lip into my mouth as I hold my breath.

“About that.” He pauses, and my stomach drops. Here comes the brush-off I should have expected. “The weather looks a little rough. Tomorrow looks great, though. Any chance that could work?”

Okay, not life-shattering. Simply a change in plans. I can work with this. My fingers uncurl from their fists.

“My schedule is wide open tomorrow.”

“Okay, great.” There’s a bubble of hope in his voice. “I’ll meet you at the front entrance of the main building at one. Will you have eaten?”

Momentarily speechless by his question, I try to answer it.

“You’re asking if I’ll have eaten lunch by one p.m. tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” His answer is so casual, he must have missed the incredulity in the question.

“Tomorrow’s lunch is four meals away. I can’t answer that with any kind of certainty. Is that a deal-breaker?” Again, I hold my breath, pondering how Cameron’s going to respond. Hoping beyond hope I don’t have to make this decision now.

His deep chuckle echoes over the line. “Do you trust me enough to order lunch for us?”

“Yes.” It falls out of my mouth without thought.

“Cool. So one p.m. tomorrow. Bring a bathing suit and sunscreen. And some water.”

As excited as I am about the prospect of spending time with him tomorrow, a small part of me is disappointed at not seeing him today. Which is why I ask, “Any badminton tournaments to judge today?”

“Nope. Actually, my schedule’s open the rest of the day. Besides a quick trip to Charleston to check something out.”

I couldn’t have heard him right. “Charleston?”

“Yeah. Largest city in South Carolina. Probably flew into there before arriving in Magnolia Cay.” It’s not a condescending remark when it leaves Cameron’s mouth.

“Erica invited me to go shopping there today. I was all set to tell her no.” I don’t have the faintest clue why I’m telling him this.

To see him. Duh.

“Is there room for one more? And if that answer is yes, will there be time to make a pit stop?”

I sit up taller on the bed. Suddenly the idea of going to Charleston with Erica and Jonah is improving.

“You want to come with?”

I smack my forehead. Who says that? Other than some of the younger authors I work with and readers I know.

As predicted, Cameron’s chuckle calls me out. “We’ll come back to that later. But the answer is yes, I want to come. What time are you leaving and how are you getting there?”

“Eleven,” I say, before adding, “I’m not sure. I wasn’t all that interested in the details ten minutes ago. But I can find out.” I open up the text thread and send a message to Erica telling her I’m in and asking for information. Standing up, I glimpse myself in the mirror. “Shit. I gotta get ready. Can I text you on this number?”

“Did you eat breakfast?”

“Crap.” Though he can’t see me, I cover my mouth with my hand. Why can’t I keep these curses to myself? “I need real coffee.” The words tumble from my lips, words meant to stay inside my head.

“Okay. Text me on this number.” The line goes quiet.

“Will do.” I expect something more from him, but too soon I discover he’s not there. “What the hell?” I don’t have much time to ponder his mysterious disappearance because Erica’s back with a message. Her excitement is palpable through the phone. I smile until I remember my time to get ready is limited. And I have to face Cameron.

The thought brings a nervous smile to my face.

Ten minutes later, I’m out of the shower when a knock sounds on the door. I quickly tug on my robe and rush to answer it, though not before checking the peephole first.