“Thank you.” Angie bowed in mock fun. “How about a swim at the sandbar? We can throw the football around?”
‘”Is there any tackling allowed in this game?”
“No, just a game of catch-the-ball.”
“Just checking. Now that I see this sporty-side to you first-hand, I wanted to prepare myself.” Trevor’s face held playfulness that enticed Angie and lured her in, hook-line-and-sinker. His voice crackled from the shortness of breath caused by his surfing exercise, but even that weakness paid tribute to the man.
Angie called out to Frank. “He’s had enough, Captain. Let’s hit the sandbar for a few minutes before we begin the tour of the cottages and homes.”
Trevor strapped the board tight within the bracket that held it in place and turned to face Angie. He grunted when the football slammed into his chest.
“Mm… Perhaps I will win this sport too, Mr. Dristoll.”
Trevor headed her way and a tickle fight erupted. When the boat slowed, they untangled and popped their heads over the side.
“We’re here.” Angie jumped to her feet. “The last one in the water starts with a five-point demerit.” She stumbled onto the back deck and landed in the waist deep water with a splash.
Trevor towered over her from the rear platform and stared. “Not fair.” He twirled the football in his hand and did a few fancy moves.
Angie roared laughing. She reached up and grabbed for his leg. “Get in here and we’ll see who can keep hold of that ball.”
Twenty minutes later, Frank called from inside the boat. “Hey, boss! If you want that tour we best be moving out. I’m invited to dinner with my folks at five tonight.”
Before they mounted the steps at the rear of the boat, Trevor placed his hand on Angie’s arm. She stopped and glanced his way. She choked her final playful giggle as she peered into his intense scrutiny. “What?” Angie said weakly, her legs threatening to sink under the heat of his stare.
Trevor never spoke, simply leaned in and placed his lips on hers, as if it were the most natural thing for him to do. Angie never withdrew but savored the unexpected kiss as if it held all the anointed healing for her lonely heart. He slowly pushed back, and she forced her eyes to open. They met his and smoldered.
“You two coming?” called Frank from behind the wheel of the boat. Reluctantly, they obliged and climbed back aboard the Heritage Queen.
“I’m sorry, Frank. We got carried away.” Angie and Trevor shared an intimate glance, which without warning turned into a nervous, puppy-love reaction.
Trevor was the first to break loose of the spell. With a mischievous grin, he spoke to the captain, “Who taught your boss how to play football in the water? It’s a near impossible task.”
“No doubt her father or brother. She is indeed a wiry one, Mr. Dristoll.” Frank turned frontward in his seat and reached for the key.
Angie picked up her towel to dry off. She dropped a flowery cover-up over her head and it fell to rest against her drenched, turquoise bathing suit. She sat down as the motor purred to life. Bit by bit, the boat eased away from the shallow water and back into the deep. Angie patted the white leather couch beside her and Trevor sat down.
“Keep an eye out my side and you will see where the wealthy spend a lot of their time and money in this neck of the woods.”
Trevor concentrated on the passing scenery for a few minutes but soon inched his focus back onto Angie’s face. “You shared that you lost your parents recently but I don’t recall you mentioning that you had a brother?”
Angie bit her lip. “My brother is dead, and I don’t like to talk about him.”
“I’m sorry. I said I wouldn’t bring your family up again but…” he paused before continuing. “You’ve been so forthcoming to me about your losses, and I’ve not reciprocated. Suppose it’s my turn to bend your ear. December of last year, my father went on a quick business trip. Mom and I worked feverishly to set up all the decorations, finish the Christmas baking, shop, and wrap presents. Dad was due home on Christmas Eve.” Trevor swallowed the lump in his throat. “He never made it.”
“Oh, Trevor, I am so sorry.”
“I know we share the same grief, but perhaps now you’ll better understand my hesitancy about the whole Christmas scene. I’m having a difficult time facing it mid-year. This theme you got running this month almost made me change my mind about bringing the bus here, but that would be selfish. We needed this place to relax. I keep my people far too busy on the road. Guess I want to make sure they get their money’s worth, but sometimes forget to let them stop and smell the roses.”
“I’m glad you came to Heritage Inn.” Angie left it there, and he offered a smile in return, all the while gazing into the depths of her soul. She liked that about him; not having to explain every change of emotion. Somehow he just knew.
Heart-soaked emotion drenched his words. “So am I, Angie.”
Trevor looked past her and smiled. “Most of my clients could afford a place like that.” He pointed to an extravagantly built home of a multi-millionaire.
“I suppose that level of clientele helps to bulge your pocketbook,” said Angie.
“It definitely does. And thankfully they keep coming back. That said, repeat passengers do present a challenge. I continually need to locate new places to visit.”
Angie smiled. “I hope Heritage Inn becomes a regular stop whenever you need a break from your fast-paced schedule.”
“You can count on it. How far in advance do you require bookings?” asked Trevor.
“You lucked out this week. Someone canceled. Most folks that have
