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Follow the Sun RJ Scott and Meredith Russell
Chapter 7
Lucas woke to light flooding the cabin through the various nooks and crannies in
the aged wood. The waking hadn t been sudden, more a delicious stretch and curl into
the mattress and the thought of having nowhere to be. Dylan had left; he knew that.
Blinking, he realized he couldn t recall when other than it had been dark. Stretching
again, he looked up at the roof and marveled that the thing had survived any of the
storms that made their way across this stretch of ocean in hurricane season. The whole
structure was a patchwork of wood and iron and both old and new nails. The main
struts looked to be tied together with rope, which probably made the whole thing less
rigid and more able to withstand the bending breaking forces of nature.
Moving outside, he realized the shack was protected on all sides by natural bluffs
of rock, and just a few short steps later, he was back by the body of water Dylan had
taken him to last night. The water was mirror-smooth at the edges, and he could see
clearly the small wannabe waterfall that fed the natural bowl in the sand. Memories
flooded him of the taste of Dylan, of his touch and the confident way that he led him to
the water and then back to the shack. Butterflies made themselves known in his
stomach and his chest tightened when he recalled each touch.
Following the shoreline, he made it back to the hotel in good time and slipped into
his cabin before anyone could see him, if indeed anyone was up. The complex was
quiet, although the smell of bacon wafted through the open area and by the silent
swimming pool. First order was to get a shower. His skin was crusty with sand and his
hair felt coarse with both sand and dried seawater.
The shower was hot, and inch by inch he relaxed into the flow and then rested his
head on folded arms against the wall, allowing the water to beat down on his back. The
burn of acid in his gut was back, and reluctantly he left the shower, wrapping a towel
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around his waist and locating his meds in his bag. Two tablets for this, a pill for that,
several others as vitamins. Jesus, he was a walking fricking pharmacy. It was time to
stop drinking and get on them. He had made it through the wedding, done his bit,
drunk the toasts, even loosened up a bit, but now he had to settle the pain.
After dressing casually in Bermuda shorts and a loose purple T-shirt, he paced his
room restlessly. Every now and again, he stopped at the room safe. Inside were his
netbook and the papers he needed to review. He could even imagine himself opening
the safe and pulling out what he needed to work. Tasha would shout at him, but hell,
he needed to get the initial review sent back to Municipal before he left Sapphire Cay.
He just didn t want to. He wanted to find Dylan and thank him for the best night s sleep
he had experienced since he was studying for his degree. Decision made, he pocketed
his cell his only concession to having his finger on the pulse and made his way to the
breakfast room. His cell showed it to be only six a.m. and he doubted anyone from last
night was going to be up. Bride and groom safely ensconced in their honeymoon cabin
meant the rest of the party could enjoy the alcohol on tap. He probably missed out on a
hell of a lot more dumpings into the pool.
Morning, Mr. Madison, a voice greeted him. Lucas turned to see Antoine
Durand sitting at a side table with papers piled next to him and his wife, Jeanie, sitting
opposite him with a ready smile on her beautiful face.
Morning, Lucas said. He returned the smile. These two were nice people. The
contact he had exchanged with them had mostly been by email, but even in those
written words he had felt the warmth and welcome.
Did you sleep well? Jeanie asked. Lucas nodded and glanced quickly at her
expression. He suddenly felt she knew he hadn t been in his room, and for some
unaccountable reason he felt guilty. Did everyone know? Were people laughing at him?
Had he fucked up?
Shit.
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Forcing calming breaths and focusing on her expression, he saw nothing but a
friendly question and no hidden meaning in the softly accented words. Fucking panic
attacks and the constant feeling of fucking up& now he even suspected gently spoken
questions.
Please join us, Antoine offered. We are the only ones here and the coffee is
hot.
Lucas immediately opened his mouth to decline. He didn t want the company; he
didn t do socializing and he didn t want anyone to feel that they had to sit with him.
Before he could say anything, Antoine had scooted around to sit next to his wife, who
smiled at him and moved a little to give him room. Seemed Lucas had no choice.
When Jeanie poured fresh coffee into a clean mug the deal was struck. Lucas
would push past his fears about knowing what the hell to talk about and sit and eat his
damn breakfast with two people who didn t have an agenda or want anything from
him.
Sliding into the recently vacated space, he brought the coffee to his lips and
inhaled the scent of it before sipping at the steaming brew. Nectar touched his tongue
and slid sinuously down his throat. Coffee on an empty stomach wasn t entirely a good
thing, but hell, this was perfect caffeine. Fluffy eggs and biscuits were scooped onto a
plate and passed to him, and before he knew it he was talking between mouthfuls about
the wedding and his sister and the island. He couldn t help but see the papers on the
corner of the desk and his innate curiosity won out.
You re selling Sapphire Cay? he finally asked. The top sheet listing the island
with an associated view from the air wasn t exactly subtle. Nor was the seven-hundred-
thousand-dollar price tag. It didn t seem a lot for such a slice of beauty.
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When we first purchased the Cay it cost us very little and had nothing much
more than a shack at one end, began Jeanie. Lucas idly wondered if that was Dylan s
shack she spoke of. My father invested a little and we opened a year later.
I was so young, Antoine said. He shook his head. And look at us now. He
laughed and Jeanie leaned into him. The show of support and affection sent a stab of
jealousy through Lucas. He missed seeing his mom and dad being so naturally
affectionate and it wasn t likely he would ever be in a relationship where he could
experience that same level of ease.
Getting too old, Jeanie said softly.
You re not old, Lucas protested. Politeness dictated he say that, but he wasn t
lying. Her blonde hair was short and soft and her skin was not lined in the way a
normal sixty-year-old might be.
We have to take the best chance at retiring now and we think it s time to move
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