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Dune had seriously impressed Caroline with the wide variety of juices he offered to his customers. Most places kept things simple, but he seemed to go above and beyond for his patrons. She could easily see why Blue Lobster Adventures was so popular with the tourists.
Caroline greeted each customer, filling flutes with juice and champagne or sparkling wine. Each time someone set a dollar or two in the tip bucket, she did everything she could to hide her smile. They weren’t her tips to keep because she told Dune she would work for free.
When they set sail, most of the people went downstairs. Caroline used this time to clean her space and stock her empty bottles below the counter. She took note, as Dune requested, of how many bottles they would need to restock when they got back to land.
“Everything good?” Wilson asked when he came to check on her.
“Perfect,” she said. Wilson nodded and headed toward the door farthest away from her. He breezed in and out so quick, she barely had time to recognize him.
Dune’s voice came out through the speaker on the wall. Caroline paused and listened to him talk. His voice had a hypnotic catch to it she couldn’t quite describe. He made her want to listen, even though deep down she was mad at him. As he spoke and told stories about the area they were in, she couldn’t help but get lost in his words. This is the side of Dune she wanted to see, not the one who scowled at her or called her an absurd nickname. But the one who walked her home when she was drunk and didn’t take advantage of her. The one who made sure her doors and window were locked because she wasn’t in the right mind to do it herself. He was in there and she just needed to find a way to bring him out.
By the time the end of the day came around, Caroline was exhausted. Even though she had slung drinks in the morning, working on the main deck of the tour boat was hard work. It took a lot of leg muscle, which she didn’t have, to stand there and balance against the waves. On the last trip out, she stood through the entire tour and even answered some questions from a passenger, thankful she had clearly memorized some of Dune’s tour guide information subconsciously.
After they closed the tour boat down for the night, she followed the guys back to the shack, which was still open. When Caroline grabbed her bag, she told Ana she’d wash her shorts and bring them to her tomorrow. She bypassed Dune and didn’t tell him she’d see him in the morning or even offer him a goodbye.
“Hey, Caroline,” he said after as she left. She turned and found him right behind her, too close for comfort, and bumped into his chest—his very well-defined chest, according to what the nerve endings in her fingertips told her as they touched him.
“Sorry.” She pulled her hands away and clasped them in front of her.
“You should go change.”
Caroline rolled her eyes. Why was this man so bossy? What gave him the right to tell her what to wear? “You listen here—”
“For dinner—” he cut her off. “I’d like to take you to Diego’s for dinner as a thank you for today since you won’t let me pay you. And these are yours.” He handed her a wad of bills. “The tips from earlier. They’re yours.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “We all get tipped out. Speed and I split with Wilson. But you made all the drinks this morning. These are for you, plus there’s some from this afternoon.”
Caroline would not let Dune know these were her first ever tips or any monetary earnings from working. She put the money into her purse and clutched the strap tighter.
“Back to what I was saying,” Dune said, “about you changing your clothes—”
“Are you changing?” Caroline interrupted him this time.
“Yes, I am. I’ll meet you back here in twenty.” He walked away without giving her a chance to question him or tell him no. If she didn’t show up, she suspected he’d come find her or she’d run into him later in the evening.
Caroline liked the idea of having dinner with Dune. It would be her chance to prove him wrong about her. She hustled to the bathroom, changed, and then freshened up. There wasn’t a lot she could do with her hair, though. After running a brush through it, she gave herself a side braid, and then pulled a few pieces of hair to frame her face. She spritzed some perfume and called it good. When she came out of the bathroom, Dune was waiting for her under a tree. He had on him a polo with a couple of stripes going along the edges of the collar. He wore khaki shorts, the kind with cuffs along the bottom of the legs, that stuck out from the bottom of his polo shirt. The fabric hugged his toned physique in all the right places, calling attention to his tanned skin and brush of dark hair. He pushed off the tree when he saw her. As he came close, she noticed a day’s worth of growth on his face and yearned to touch his stubble. Dune smelled like he had been in the water all day, mixed with hints of sun and sand. His scent reminded her of warmth. She wanted to cuddle up to him and breathe him in.
