Island Affair (Keys to Love #1)(13)
“Anyone I know?”
Luis turned to find that Franco had followed his gaze and noticed Sara waiting for him. His mind froze for a blip at the potential glitch he hadn’t considered.
Crap. No way they could avoid running into people who would inevitably ask about Sara if they were together.
People who knew him as Luis, not Ric. A definite problem if they bumped into another Conch while with her family. Many of the locals knew each other, and gossip flew around their tiny island faster than a speedboat racing. No doubt he’d be seen with Sara’s family at some point over the next week. If someone got wind of his “relationship” with her, his family would find out in minutes.
And if they confronted him about keeping a girlfriend a secret, no way he’d lie.
Not after the raking over the beach bonfire coals he’d given his brother Enrique for lying to him.
Time to improvise and start playing Sara’s game before he wound up having to deal with damage control.
“You don’t know her,” Luis said, stepping up to the counter to grab a handful of napkins. “She’s not from here. We met while I was in Miami a while ago.”
As he expected, Franco followed, his back now to the street, and Sara. “She’s vacationing here with her family, and I volunteered to play tour guide while I’m off.”
“There you go, always doing something nice for somebody. San Navarro at it again.”
The old man behind the counter shouted Franco’s name and shook a brown paper bag in their direction. Franco smacked Luis’s shoulder in a good-bye, then headed off with his food.
Usually Luis would have snapped a comeback at the stupid nickname he’d picked up in high school. One good deed at a church retreat his mom had made him and his older brother attend, one nun who sang his praises as an example for the rest of the teens, and a guy couldn’t outrun an annoying moniker like Saint Navarro.
Today he didn’t want to. Let Franco think he was doing a friend a favor. Racking up good guy points. Anything to keep the local chatter quiet. It was pretty much the truth anyway.
Sure, Sara needed his help in a bizarre sort of way, but it kept him occupied rather than spinning his wheels at home.
Moments later, Luis climbed back into his cab. The scent of roast pork, ham, and Swiss cheese tucked inside freshly baked Cuban bread, hot from the grill press, wafted from the brown paper bag he carried.
“Smells scrumptious!” Sara took the bag from his outstretched hand so he could set two bottles of water in the center console cupholders.
“Tasting one of these was on my Key West bucket list,” she added, her entire face alight with a pleasure that teased an answering delight from him. “I’ll snap a photo when we get settled at a picnic table. Then swing by later to take one of Sandy’s awning so I can whip up a graphic with both.”
“Or you could just eat it and enjoy the good food,” he suggested.
He never understood the compulsion to send someone a photograph of your plate. It’s not like they could taste it. Seemed more like a, Ha, look what I’m enjoying that you’re not.
Sara’s smile dimmed.
Damn, maybe his bluntness had offended her. Remorse prickled his conscience. “I didn’t mean—”
“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll definitely be eating my sandwich, too. That’s part of the fun with my job. Having new experiences and sharing them with others. Although our arrangement is a little outside my norm, and I certainly don’t plan on mentioning it on my blog.” Sara closed her notebook and set their paper bag on top with a flourish. “My followers know I’m on vacation, and though I didn’t say where for privacy reasons, I promised to share highlights and recommendations after. While I’m here, I’ve scheduled a few posts to go up and my assistant will cover the other days. That way it’s only a matter of replying to comments and adding some live posts to stories. I’m compiling pics and notes for a future travel blog. Plus, I’ll be doing some recon for an expansion deal that’s in the works in Miami.”
Luis tried to keep up with the flurry of activities she rattled off. But for a guy whose life revolved around the fire station, occasional charted dive tours on his boat, familia and friends, workouts, and sleep, all her social media talk about posts and going live and commenting made his head spin. She might as well have been speaking a different language.
Give him a lazy afternoon on Fired Up. A cooler full of food and cold drinks. His cell off. A fishing line in the water. That all made for a great day.
“Seems like this is more of a working vacation for you,” he noted, buckling his seat belt.
“Honestly, there’s always something I can be doing for my business. I don’t mind because I love what I do. Although . . .” Her dull emphasis on the word had Luis cutting a look her way as he put his truck in gear. One corner of her mouth hitched up, drawing his attention to her glossy lips. “Thanks to Ric, the vacation part of this trip is what’s shaping up to be stressful.”
“Speaking of Ric, or me stepping into his shoes.” Luis made a U-turn to head toward White Street Pier and Higgs Beach. “I ran into a buddy of mine from high school in line. He saw you waiting for me and asked about you.”
“Does that happen often?
“All the time. Island life and the close-knit local network can be a blessing, unless you’re pretending to be someone else. With a different name.”