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Mateo shrugged. “You said it, not me.”
“Are you trying to kick me out so you can steal my job?” It was no secret that if Grant left, Mateo would be the natural choice to take over as director. He too had grown up there and he’d been head of rehab almost as long as Grant had been working as director.
“I’ve already started measuring your office to see if my stuff will fit,” Mateo joked, then turned more serious. “But mostly, we all want to see you back where you belong. Don’t get me wrong. We love having you here, but this isn’t your dream. This was your dad’s dream, Claire’s dream. Shoot, even my dream. Your dream, what you were built to do, is research. It’s time for you to get back out there.”
Grant let the words marinate for a moment. There was a lot of truth there, and some of it stung a little. Turtle Rehab had been his dad’s passion, the legacy he’d left to the world. Grant wanted nothing more than to see it thrive. He wanted it to be a living, breathing memorial to the incredible husband, father, and man his dad had been. And there was this tiny nagging voice in his head that kept asking, what kind of son would he be if he walked away?
On the other hand, while he truly loved this place with all his heart, Mateo was right. Turtle Rehab had never been his passion. His passion, the thing that made him feel alive, was research.
Stay here and preserve the family legacy, or start a new adventure by following his own dream? It was the million-dollar question.
Grant held up his can for a toast. “To everyone getting the job they deserve.”
“To everyone getting the job they want.” Mateo clicked his can against Grant’s.
Today had been perfect, but Grant had a feeling change was in the forecast.
Chapter Eleven
The following Saturday, Molly, onceagain, pulled into the parking lot of Turtle Rehab well before the sun came up. She would’ve classified herself as a morning person, but these predawn excursions Grant planned were painfully early even for her.
She shifted into park next to the turtle ambo and took a long pull of the hot coffee in her travel mug before she got out of the car. She hadn’t even finished closing her door when Grant stepped out of the dimly lit gift shop, looking bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.
“Morning, sunshine. You ready for this?”
Molly locked her car and strolled over to him, his perkiness causing her own to grow. “I’d say yes, but then again, I have no idea what we’re doing.”
“Fair enough.” He turned and locked the front doors of the gift shop before he motioned for her to follow him around the side of the building. “But for the record, it’s going to be great.”
“And let me guess—I’m going to love it?”
“Have I ever steered you wrong?”
No. He hadn’t. And the truth was, the more adventures he took her on, the more time she wanted to spend with him. She found herself counting down the days until their Saturday excursions and hoping each one would last longer than the one before.
Where did that leave her? She didn’t know. And frankly, she didn’t want to mess this morning up by thinking too hard about it. She’d come up with a plan later, but for now, she wanted to enjoy whatever it was that he thought was worth getting out of bed at an unspeakable hour. “In that case, let’s stop blabbing so we can get to it.”
His chuckle rang through the cool morning air. “Fair enough. Although, in full disclosure, this next part can be tricky in the dark. Watch your step.”
He led her on what appeared to be a narrow path over the dunes, and he wasn’t kidding. Between the loose sand, the descent, and the darkness, it required her full concentration to keep from stumbling. Silence filled the air, and she focused on the last hundred or so feet to the beach below.
An ATV was parked near where their path through the dunes met the flat beach. Grant walked over to it and picked up one of the helmets resting on the seat. “Your chariot awaits, my lady.”
She took the helmet and studied the ATV. “We’re going four-wheeling on the beach?” She had to admit, it was something she’d never done before, but it didn’t seem like an activity that demanded such an early wake-up call.
“If by four-wheeling on the beach, you mean driving the ATV in the sand, then yes.” He patted the beefy-looking vehicle. “But it’s only a mode of transportation. We’re on Turtle Patrol, and we have five miles of beach to cover before sunrise. This big guy is going to get us there.”
That sounded slightly more intriguing. “What does that mean?”
“Every morning during nesting season, the beach is monitored for any new nests that were laid overnight. Then on the way back, we’ll check on the nest we already know about.” He picked up the second helmet and held it up. “I even broke out the safety gear just for you.”
She grinned. “I feel so seen.” So, Grant had been right again. She was going to love this.
“But we need to finish up before sunrise, so we should probably get started.” He climbed on the ATV and motioned to the seat behind him. “You coming?”
She stared at the seat. While her over-zealous apprehension was starting to mellow, she was far from being fearless. “Here goes nothing.” She slid on her helmet, tightened the chin strap, and climbed on behind him.
“To be clear, we don’t always spot new nests. There are plenty of mornings where this is nothing more than an early ride.”
