Turn Over

“Were you two close?” I think I had been so curious about his ties with Grey I hadn’t bothered to ask about her.

“Very close. She raised me. Single mom. She did it all on her own. Never missed one of my baseball games. Made sure I got into college. She was an amazing woman.”

“She must have been. Look at you.”

He chuckled. “No, she was much better than me. She had a soft spot in her heart. I don’t think I came built with one of those.”

I turned, planting my feet on the floor. “Are you kidding? You do nice things for people all the time.”

“Purely by accident.”

“There is a story on your counter about your good deeds. And what about last night? Were the wine, bubble bath, backrub all an accident?”

“Not the same thing. You’re in an entirely different category, Syd.” His eyes drifted across the railing.

I was afraid to ask, but the question was still there. I wanted to know how he felt. I couldn’t help it. I prodded. “And what category is that?”

“I think you know.” He finished off the beer.

My heart sank. He wasn’t going to offer more than he had. I should be satisfied with where things were.

“Should we get dinner?” I suggested, hearing my stomach growl. Wine wasn’t enough to sustain me for long.

“Head over to Pete’s? We can watch the sunset from there.”

I stood to join him. “Take me now. I’m so hungry I could eat that notepad. I think with everything that happened today I forgot to eat lunch.”

“You got it, girl. Come on.”

His hand fit over mine warm and firm. It was hard to believe twelve hours ago I was imagining what it would be like to pack and leave South Padre. Leave Mason. Leav

e what we had started. I looked at him as we crossed the street to Pete’s. I’d rather lie down on this beach road and be run over, than let go of the hold he had on me. God, I had fallen so far and fast for him.

“Everything ok?” he asked, holding the door for me.

“Mmhmm.” And it was. As long as he didn’t let go.

21

Mason

I took a seat near the window. Today was overcast. The ocean looked gloomy as if a storm was about to descend on the island.

He was late again. I waved off the waitress when she appeared for the third time.

“Mason, hope you didn’t wait long.” Carlos heaved himself into a chair.

“Not too long. Slightly curious about your phone call, Carlos.”

We ordered from the menus. Carlos stirred a packet of sugar into his tea. His mustache twitched on the ends. I had a pretty good idea that he was going to ask for campaign funds. Only, I had thought that request would come from his staff.

“Mason, I’ve got some bad news.”

“What’s that?”

“We can’t approve the new campsite permits.” He sat back to adjust his belt.

I smiled. “What are you talking about? It’s ten trailer hookups. I’m not building a nuclear site.”