She glanced at Gary, whose broad shoulders still drooped. There must be a way she could learn to handle his tendency to joke around. A grand idea popped into her head. “I have a proposal.”
“A proposal?” His melancholy mood vanished as he snatched her hand from the chair, lifting it to kiss her knuckles before she tugged it from his grasp. Just like that, he was back to his usual bantering. “I accept! We should get married here, on the beach. Indigo Bay has weddings all the time. And Steven can be my best m—”
She tossed her towel at his face, cutting him off. “Stop it!” She stifled a giggle. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
“Such violence!” He let the towel fall off his face, exposing his fake horror. “First you dump water on me. Then you hit me with your towel—”
“Gary, I’m being serious here. I have an idea how I can always be sure whether you’re teasing or not.”
His lips pulled back in a wide grimace. “That could take all the fun out of it.”
She continued, ignoring his antics. “I propose that whenever you say something and I ask, ‘Is that the truth?’ you have to answer immediately with a ‘yes’ or a ‘no,’ and you have to be truthful.”
He squinted up at a single cottony cloud floating across the blue sky, as if he might find a way around her proposition.
“Well,” she said, “will you do it?”
“Sure.”
When a dimple danced in and out of sight at the corner of his mouth, she grew suspicious. “Is that the truth?”
He fell back against the chair, laughing. “You really don’t trust me, do you?”
“You have to answer yes or no.”
“Yes.” His blue eyes twinkled. “I will answer truthfully if you ask me that question.”
“Good.”
Gary stood and moved next to his board, shifting from foot to foot in the burning sand. “Sure you don’t want to come out? I’d love to teach you how to surf.”
“No, thank you. I’m happy here on the beach with my book.”
“Suit yourself.”
As he bent to retrieve his surfboard, two twentyish girls in bikinis paraded past, sending appreciative looks Gary’s way. Somehow, he didn’t seem to notice them.
Of course, he doesn’t. He’s so used to female attention he takes it for granted.
“Be sure to stay hydrated.” He eyed her cooler.
“I will, Mr. Personal Trainer.”
He lifted the board over his head, giving her a mouth-watering view of his six-pack abs. “But don’t eat anything. Steven’s cooking dinner tonight.”
“He can cook?” She’d always assumed her boss had food delivered or paid someone to prepare meals for him.
“He’s Steven Gherring. Of course he can cook. He can do everything—that’s why all the women love him.”
“I’ve wondered about that,” Katie glanced out in the waves where Steven was lying on his board, paddling away from shore. She quickly turned her head, before shark images overran her imagination. “Why hasn’t he ever gotten married?”
Her boss, devoted to his work, acted as if he didn’t have time for a relationship. Perhaps more of a perfectionist than she, he was successful, but was he happy?
“He used to date a lot, but he’s almost given up.” Gary’s face, once again, took on a sober expression, as he lowered the board to his side. “Being rich has made it almost impossible for him to meet a woman who values him for who he is instead of the money he has.”
“I hope he knows I don’t feel that way,” Katie said, imagining how hurtful that would be.
Gary’s muscles flexed along his jaw. “Maybe you should tell him.”