Winter in Paradise (Paradise #1)(64)

Ayers swims on and Baker follows, waving to Crush, studying the pattern on the back of his shell, watching the way his neck stretches as he feasts on the grass. Ayers finds a second turtle and this one has a baby turtle with him—Crush and Squirt! Floyd would love this! Ayers swims alongside the father-and-son turtles and soon Baker is, too. He is so close he could reach out and touch the back of the father’s shell, but he’s guessing that’s against the rules, like feeding the donkeys. He’s content to just glide along with the turtles and Ayers until the turtles dive to eat again and Ayers takes Baker’s hand. They both surface. Ayers lifts her mask and says, “Cool, huh?”

“So cool!” he says. “I can’t believe they’re just… hanging out.”

“This is where they live,” she says. She pulls Baker in to kiss him, which makes Baker very, very happy, and then she says, “I’ll race you back. I’m starving.”

They sit on a towel in the sun and eat their sandwiches—turkey with arugula for Ayers, rare roast beef with BBQ sauce for Baker. When she’s finished, Ayers lies back on her towel and says, “I’m going to take a nap. Then we should probably head out.”

Head out? Baker thinks. But she’s right: It’s quarter of two already. The day flew by and now their date is almost over, so he will have to ask her about Caneel on the way home. Tomorrow night, if she’s free.

Ayers closes her eyes and Baker props himself on his elbow and watches her sleep.



On the way home, Baker feels a leaden sense of melancholy. Despite the mishap with the chair, it was a great date and he doesn’t want it to end.

“Are you sure you can’t go to dinner tonight?” he asks.

“Positive,” she says.

“Because you have another date,” Baker says. “Just tell me one thing, is he bigger than me?”

Ayers’s laugh is musical, like a bell. He loves her laugh. He loves her smooth tan arms. He loves her jangling silver bracelets. There are five, all variations of the St. John hook, including one she had custom-made with an “8” and a hook because every February she runs a race called “8 Tuff Miles”—the length of the satanically hilly Centerline Road from Cruz Bay to Coral Bay. The race ends at Skinny Legs, hence the name of the bar. (Things here are finally starting to click for Baker.) He loves her blond curls, her sense of adventure, her taste in music, and her enthusiasm about the natural world.

“I have another commitment,” she says. “And I’m not telling you what it is, but you don’t have to feel threatened.”

“I do feel threatened,” Baker admits. “I don’t want to share you.”

“Hey now,” she says. “Aren’t things moving a little fast?”

“Sorry,” Baker says. “I just had a really good time today. I enjoy being with you.”

“I had a good time, too,” Ayers says. “But you’re a tourist, so we can’t get too serious. Let’s just have fun while you’re here, okay? Let’s not attach too many feelings to this.”

Baker takes this like a poison dart to the throat. No feelings? He is nothing but feelings.

“Let’s not not attach feelings,” he says. “Besides, I don’t know when I’m leaving. I might be here for a while yet.”

“I guess I don’t understand that,” Ayers says. “Do you not have a return ticket?”

“It’s open-ended,” he says.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Why did you get an open-ended ticket? I mean, I realize you don’t have a traditional job, but you do have a child, right, and a life in… Austin?”

“Houston,” he says.

“We had a wonderful day,” Ayers says. “And it was exactly what I needed. But we barely know each other. And I also don’t understand why you don’t want me to come to your villa. It’s like you’re hiding something.”

“You’re hiding something,” Baker says. “You won’t tell me what you’re doing tonight.”

Ayers takes an audible breath. “My ex-boyfriend, Mick? He cheated on me. He told me he was working late “training” Brigid, and I went down to the Beach Bar at two in the morning and found them together. Very together. So I’m sorry, but I can’t handle a man who isn’t absolutely forthcoming and transparent. If you have secrets, that’s fine, that’s great, good for you, but I’m not interested.” She grins at him. “I’m dead serious. I will never let myself get hurt like that again.”

“I would never,” Baker says. “Will never.” He needs to keep himself in her present, in her future, but her words make him realize that he needs to tell her about his father. It will take just one sentence: My father was Russell Steele. Baker worries she will freak out, maybe even leave him on the side of the road and drive off. The time to have told her was right at the beginning, at the memorial service, when they were sitting on the branch. But the situation had been so raw then; they had been at Rosie’s funeral lunch. He had been right to keep quiet. He could have told her last night on the beach. That was a missed opportunity. He doesn’t want to tell her now because she hasn’t quite fallen for him yet. He’ll take her to Caneel Bay, he decides, he’ll consummate the relationship properly, he’ll make her fall in love with him, and then he’ll tell her. And she’ll have no choice but to process and accept the news. It might not even matter.