Page 53 of Sand in My Boots

Preston looks up, a smile emerging. He looks the same as always—brown hair perfectly styled, a pressed button-down white shirt, his brown eyes so similar to mine, all business-like. “Juliana.”

“Preston.” I can’t help but giggle. He’s the only one who calls me Juliana regularly, but he’s only Preston. I tried once to shorten it to Pres. It didn’t go so well.

He takes one of my hands in his. “Are you enjoying your stay?”

“Oh my god, yes. I love it here and can see why you never leave, much to your family’s chagrin.” I don’t hide the disdain in my voice. He barely flinches at my accusation. Nor does he try to defend himself.

“Good. I’m glad. If you need anything, let me know.”

“Sure. Will do. Thanks for having dinner with me. We need a proper catch-up.”

Again, he smiles at me, but this one isn’t as beaming.

“Are you happy here?”

“Yes.” It’s unconvincing, but I didn’t come here to argue. I came to chat and find out what’s going on in his life.

“Tell me all the things. What it’s like to be the owner of Whispering Tide. What you do for fun. What it’s like living in paradise.”

A laugh bubbles out of him. Not one of those stuffy laughs, but a boisterous one, the kind I remember sharing when we were kids. This is the brother I miss.

Over dinner of the chef’s special of smoked belly beef and mezzaluna pasta, Preston talks animatedly about his life, giving me all the details about his job and keeping the resort running well. Passion and pride fill his voice, making me proud of him for accomplishing this dream he set for himself. He’s worked hard, and it’s paid off. He and the other owners have established themselves and Whispering Tide as a high-quality, luxury resort. He spews some numbers—it’s in his blood, he can’t help it—which go over my head.

When it’s my turn to talk, I tell him about my job, leaving out the part about drooling over good-looking men. He listens attentively, never once checking his phone, and pride wafts off him.

“It sounds like you have a good thing going. I’m happy you found something that harnesses your creative side.”

It almost sounds like a dig, but I don’t let it bring me down.

“And Mom and Dad are good? Elisa?”

“Yep. Dad works too hard, Mom’s in his ear about retiring, but he’s not ready to give it up. Maybe you know something about that.” My eyes roll at how much alike the two of them are. “And Mom’s Mom. She fell heavily into gardening this year. She’s an expert, of course.” Preston joins in on my laughter, knowing who our mom is.

“But of course.”

The waiter swaps out Preston’s empty tumbler of whiskey for a full one and refills my water. Before I left for dinner, Cameron mentioned having big plans for later, which I want to thoroughly remember and enjoy.

“What’s with the goofy smile?”

I try to wipe it away, but no such luck. “Happy to be here with you,” I lie. Whether he buys it, I don’t question it. Needing something else to do, I down the water.

“Seeing anyone new?” I almost choke on the sip. How does he know? “You mentioned something about a guy on our group text thread.”

“Oh.” I wave my hand, dismissing the idea. Pedro was supposed to be my date for the wedding, but that didn’t work out. For the best. At least regarding this week. He wouldn’t have been as much fun as Cameron, and he wouldn’t have appreciated the beauty of the resort and the immaculate shower. Not even a little. “He decided we should go our separate ways, see other people. It probably wouldn’t have worked out in the long run, anyway.” I debate whether to bring up Cameron, to gauge his opinion on a relationship between us. My mouth opens at the same time as his phone vibrates. Good brother that he is, he only sneaks a peek at his watch, but whatever comes through must be something important.

“Shit. This needs my attention.” He looks at me. Worry floats in his warm amber eyes. “Don’t be mad?”

“You’ve paid your dues. Go.” He stands up, towering over me as I hug him. “I don’t leave until Monday morning. Even if it’s not a meal, I’d like to see you again.”

“I’m around. Come find me.” With a kiss on my forehead, he darts away.

“As if tracking him down is so easy,” I mumble, finishing up the last of my water.

The waiter stops by. “Anything else I can get you? Mr. Langley took care of the bill.”

I smile sweetly at him. “Can I see the dessert menu, please?”

The smile is returned. “My pleasure. Be right back.”