Sara’s train of thought drifted away as her gaze landed on Charlie. The woman had her hands in her hair, pulling pins. The wind took hold of the long, glossy tresses, and they flew out like a flag. Charlie drew her fingers through them as if enjoying the sensation.
“Letting down her hair,” Emmaline murmured. “Good.”
Bad, Sara thought, because Charlie was looking in the direction of father and son, and her expression was one she’d never seen on her friend’s face. “She’s…she’s fond of Wells, don’t you think?”
Emmaline’s brows rose. “Sure. Fond of Wells.”
“And…Ethan? It seems they get along. It’s nice that they get along.”
“I only just met him tonight,” Emmaline said. “But he seems to like and respect Charlie very much.”
Sara nodded with vigor. “And she likes and respects him very much right back.”
“Um…” Emmaline turned her head to look at Sara, eyes narrowing. “Are we talking in euphemisms?”
“We’re just talking,” Sara said, jumping to her feet to get away from her friend’s inquiring gaze. “No way is it any more than that.”
When the competition concluded this time, the singles bragging rights went to Joaquin, who ran his own victory laps until Essie stuck out her foot and he tumbled, taking her down with him. They lay with their backs on the sand, laughing like loons, and Sara felt something new wash though her heart.
A…fondness, maybe. Yes, a fondness like Charlie felt for darling Wells.
No crime that, being fond of Essie and her big brother. There might be other things Joaquin activated—Sara’s libido, for example—but it wasn’t any dire thing to care about the people of her household in this warm fashion.
It was all part of being their butler.
As dark descended, the guests dispersed. Emmaline headed off in her car to the small apartment she was subletting. Sara, Joaquin, and Essie started up the beach to Nueva Vida. Sara found herself looking back over her shoulder to see Ethan, Charlie, and Wells standing on the deck, backlit by the lights in the house. She waved, and as one, they waved back.
Sara suppressed the sudden need to race to her friend and warn against disaster. Don’t fall in love. It’s too easy to fall in love with the wrong person!
“Ms. Sara the Butler, when are we going out for ice cream?”
She looked back at Joaquin. “What?”
“Our bet. I owe you and Wells triple cones.”
“You were nice to him,” she said.
“Yeah, it’s a real hardship to play horseshoes and a silly beanbag game with one little kid.”
They’d reached the house. Essie jogged up the steps to the deck and disappeared inside the house.
“You didn’t let him win at horseshoes,” Sara said. “He would have hated that.”
“Yeah? Well, he didn’t let me win doubles cornhole, so that’s fair.”
She smiled at his fake grumble. “Thanks. Thanks for it all. I had fun.”
“Good.” Joaquin began mounting the stairs, then stopped and looked back. “I had fun too, and I’d sort of forgotten what that’s like. Thanks for continuing to remind me.” He resumed his climb.
Sara stayed where she was, a smile still on her face. Yes, she was very fond of Joaquin. Then he stopped again. In the deepening dusk, she saw the concern on his face.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Images from the night played in her mind. Joaquin as the bearer of potato salad. Joaquin charming Emmaline. Joaquin playing with Wells and then playing cornhole. Joaquin whooping like the boy while taking ridiculous victory laps until being taken down by Essie. Their two faces, alight with laughter.
Joaquin, leaning close to Sara and saying, She’s gone for him.
Now he held out his hand to her. “Come on, doll, you can’t stay out here alone in the dark. We don’t want the boogeyman to get you.”
His warm fingers closed over hers. At the touch, her heart lurched. At his pull, she followed, even as she realized something. Something big.
The boogeyman already had her.
Because…oh, God, she’d done it. She’d done the very thing she’d always known not to do. She had fallen for the wrong person.
Her breath caught in her throat and her heart beat hard in her chest, as if it might find escape. But there was no place to run and no way to hide from the truth.
Joaquin didn’t loosen his hold on her as they crossed the deck. Sighing, she surrendered to what couldn’t be avoided or ignored any longer.
She was in love with a self-professed workaholic bachelor. A self-professed workaholic bachelor who was no more interested in a long-lasting romantic attachment than she’d been before