Island Girls (And Boys) Read online

  �But buying is so much more fun.� With a sigh she put the box inside the glass case where we kept fragile and expensive souvenirs. �If Noah ever asks you what he can get me, be sure to tell him I like music boxes.�

  �He should know you well enough that he shouldn�t have to ask us,� Amy said.

  �Get real. Guys are totally clueless when it comes to knowing what a girl wants.�

  �So true,� Mrs. P said. �I have a rule. Nothing that plugs in or is stored in the garage.�

  We laughed, Mrs. P smiled. �You think I�m kidding. But one year I got a hydraulic floor jack.�

  �Why?� I asked.

  Mrs. P shook her head. �Haven�t a clue.�

  �I think I�ll have a serious talk with Noah,� Chelsea said. �I really don�t want anything like that.�

  �Oh, look at these,� Amy said. She held up a pair of dolphin-shaped earrings. Most of our souvenir jewelry had some sort of nautical design. She looked at Mrs. P. �We get a discount on the souvenirs, too, right?�

  �Right.�

  �I�m going to get these.� Amy set them aside.

  �Then I�m going to get the music box,� Chelsea said.

  They had no willpower. I had to admit that opening the boxes, checking to see what had come in was a lot like opening presents at Christmas. The difference was that you weren�t supposed to keep what was inside. Before I could remind them about our budget, Mrs. P said, �Jennifer, did you want to take your lunch break?�

  �Sure. I�ll be by the pool if you need me.�

  I went into the office and grabbed my beach bag. These were the lazy days, before the madness that would arrive this weekend, and I intended to make the most of it. And not by buying souvenirs. As I went through the door, putting on my sunglasses, I could hear Amy and Chelsea exclaiming over another terrific find, and Mrs. P laughing. She probably should have sent them to lunch early, so we�d have souvenirs left for our customers.

  I crossed over to the pool, opened the gate, and went inside. Only one of the chaise lounges looked occupied. A rumpled towel was resting on one end. I could see a body streaking beneath the water. I went to the other side of the pool and dropped onto a chaise. I took off my shoes and pulled off my CCR shirt and shorts. I was wearing my bathing suit. My belly button ring was a dolphin that curved around my navel. Seeing it reflecting in the sunlight forced me to admit that last summer I�d been as bad as Amy and Chelsea when it came to opening the boxes of souvenirs. I was beyond that this summer. I truly was. I wasn�t going to look to see if we�d gotten another pair of dolphin earrings.

  I gathered up my hair, twisted it, and clipped it on top of my head. I opened my bag and pulled out the old reliable X-Men-strength lotion. I�d only be out here for about fifteen minutes, but still�

  �Need help putting that on?�

  I shifted my gaze to the pool. Blue Eyes stood in the shallow end, water dripping from his hair, down his chest. I�d thought maybe he was the one gliding through the water. Okay, �thought� was too tame a word. I�d desperately hoped. Could I get any more pathetic?

  �Your hands are wet,� I said lamely.

  �They dry off�I know how to use a towel.�

  Of course he did. I�d hoped to see him, and now I didn�t know where to take that hope. I reached into my bag and pulled out my towel. �If you�re sure you don�t mind.�

  He grinned. �Are you crazy? I�m a guy. You�re a girl. Why would I mind?�

  He put his hands on the side of the pool and hoisted himself out of the water. Oh, my goodness. He was beautiful. Bronzed. I figured he spent a lot of his time in the sun and surf. The whole idea behind camping on the beach, I guessed.

  He took the towel and sat on the edge of the chaise, slightly behind me, so he could get to my back more easily.

  �I thought you�d be out exploring the island,� I said.

  �Late night. Zach is still asleep.�

  I wasn�t going to ask him what he�d been doing that kept him out so late�or with whom he might have been doing it. It was truly none of my business. No matter how badly I wanted to ask.

  He tossed the towel in front of me and took the bottle. I held my breath, waiting for that first touch.

  �I saw you last night,� he said.

  My breath rushed out with his comment, then he was gliding the lotion on my back and shoulders.

  �Where?� I asked.

  �At the Sandpiper.�

  Which meant he saw the Noah and Chelsea show. I was totally embarrassed. I felt a need to explain. �Chelsea and Noah hadn�t seen each other for a while.�

  �That would be the couple you were with.�

  �Right. The other girl is Amy. They�re my roommates.�

  �You live on the island?� he asked.

  I nodded. �My grandparents are lending us their beach house for the summer.�

  �Cool.�

  �It really is. I love being on the island.�

  �Why? It�s hot. Sand gets into everything. Seagulls are forever dropping little surprises on you. The breeze blows constantly.�

  I twisted around and stared at him. �If you don�t like the island, why are you here?�

  �I do like it. I�m just wondering why you do.�

  How to explain?

  �The attitude. One summer, I was walking by some shops in the middle of the day with my granddad. We passed a little shop that was closed. The owner had taped a handwritten sign to the door. Closed due to lack of interest. Come back tomorrow.

  �My granddad told me the guy was on �island time.� He says when you�re on the island you should just let your moods guide you. He doesn�t even wear a watch.�

  �Island time. I like that. Too bad I�m not on it right now.� He handed my lotion back to me and stood. �I need to hit the shower before I lose my privileges.�

  I looked up at him, feeling disappointed and guilty. Wishing we were both on island time right now. �I�d extend them if I could.�

  �Don�t worry about it. I understand how business works. I�ll see you around.�

  I hope so, I thought. Of course, I didn�t say it. I just flopped back on the chair, wishing I could do something. If he was here for the showers, and the showers became off limits, would he leave? And if he did, would I care?

  �He�s going into the army at the end of the summer,� I told Mr. P.

  We were inside the marina where he was checking in the order of supplies he�d received. This week was all about gearing up for the summer ahead.

  �I see,� he murmured.

  �You were in the army,� I reminded him.

  He looked at me. I�d finally gotten his attention.

  �What do you want, Jennifer?�

  I didn�t really know.

  �I thought maybe you could make an exception? Service to our country and all that? I don�t think he can afford to pay ten dollars every day for a shower.�

  �How long is he staying?�

  �I�m not sure.�

  He puckered his lips, slipped his finger beneath his cap, and scratched his head. �Okay. I can use extra help through the weekend. If he�s willing to give me a couple of hours each morning on the maintenance crew, then he can use the showers, no charge. If he�s interested, tell him to come talk to me.�

  �Okay. Thanks!�

  I hurried out of the marina, a towel wrapped around my waist, and my flip-flops flapping. I didn�t have much time left to take a quick shower and get back into uniform. And I still hadn�t eaten the sandwich I�d packed for lunch. I rounded the corner of the main building, heading for Dylan�s tent when I saw him walking from the showers.

  No, he didn�t walk exactly. He prowled. Long, sure strides. A loose-jointed kind of walk, like he wasn�t in any hurry. That he�d get where he wanted to be when he wanted to be there.

  He was in jeans, a T-shirt, and boots. His bike-riding getup, no doubt.

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