West?”
“Nope. North Carolina is as far south as I ever got.” She’d lived on a few military posts as an Army wife. Most of the time, it was she and the other wives holding down the fort while the men were deployed.
“There’s more wildlife in Key West than you’d think. Especially at night.” He grinned. “Truth is, while I like it there—crazy tourists, cruise ships, Keysie ways, and all—it’s not the area I’d have chosen to set up shop. But I didn’t pick it. It picked me.”
“How so?”
“You really want to hear this?”
“I do.”
They’d increased their stride again and were easily moving toward Nashata Point and Stalinsky Bay. The promised conversation about J.R. and Maya hadn’t begun yet, but they had the rest of the day. Frankly, she felt fine talking about anything else except J.R., although she couldn’t help but be curious about Ty’s story.
“When I separated from the Navy, I was at loose ends for a while. Really didn’t know what I wanted to do. I had some time on my hands and knew one of my old commanders had retired in Key West. And when I say old, that’s a relative term. He was fifty. He’d always told me to come and see him when I got out. So I did. Turns out he’d started an air charter business a few years back, then expanded to air cargo.”
A pair of loons surfaced ten yards to their left and, apparently not bothered by their presence, cruised around for several seconds before diving again.
“As it also turned out, he was looking for a pilot. He wanted to expand his fleet and his routes. Asked me to join him. So I did.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Almost five years now. Three years ago, though, he got a wild hair and decided he wanted to pack it in and retire—for real this time—in Tahiti. He offered me a sweet deal on the business, so I bought him out, and that’s how I ended up in Key West.”
“It sounds exotic. Jimmy Buffett. Margaritaville. Surf. Sand. Sun.”
“Humidity, hurricanes, spring break, and a nightmare of federal regulations that make my teeth ache. Don’t get me wrong. I’m grateful. And business is good. But being here . . . well . . .”
He paused, and his silence compelled her to look at him.
“Being here is special,” he said, with a smile that was far more intimate than a conversation about Minnesota should be. “And not only because of the wildlife and the scenery.”
“There’s a little beach where we can put in on the north shore,” she said, knowing she was blushing again and hoping he’d think the exertion and the sun were at fault. “I thought we’d stop there and have lunch before heading back.”
“Show me.”
She pointed to an inlet about a hundred yards away.
He smiled that “I’ve got your number” smile again, and she felt that roller-coaster rush she experienced far too often since he’d shown up in her store yesterday afternoon.
“Race ya.”
It should have come as no surprise that he’d be competitive. “You’ll lose,” she promised, and, glad for the diversion, she dug deep with her paddle.
Behind her, he laughed. “Who said go?”
“Already looking for excuses?” she yelled over her shoulder.
“No, ma’am.”
She could hear his paddle rhythmically break water as he raced after her.
“Just so we both agree: winner gets to pick a prize.”
“Fine. And loser gets to start the fire and roast the hot dogs.” She didn’t look back. She focused on the shore and gave it everything she had. “Hope you were a Boy Scout.”
Another laugh. “Hope you’re a good loser.”
T Y WATCHED J ESS’S very tidy backside as she bent over the round iron fire ring and lit a match to kindling. “You can tell a lot about a person by the way they handle a good trouncing.”
“That was not a trouncing. You beat me by a nose.”
“A win’s a win.” He smiled, knowing he shouldn’t be enjoying this so much. The lady was a contender. He liked it. But winning the race had cost
“Nope. North Carolina is as far south as I ever got.” She’d lived on a few military posts as an Army wife. Most of the time, it was she and the other wives holding down the fort while the men were deployed.
“There’s more wildlife in Key West than you’d think. Especially at night.” He grinned. “Truth is, while I like it there—crazy tourists, cruise ships, Keysie ways, and all—it’s not the area I’d have chosen to set up shop. But I didn’t pick it. It picked me.”
“How so?”
“You really want to hear this?”
“I do.”
They’d increased their stride again and were easily moving toward Nashata Point and Stalinsky Bay. The promised conversation about J.R. and Maya hadn’t begun yet, but they had the rest of the day. Frankly, she felt fine talking about anything else except J.R., although she couldn’t help but be curious about Ty’s story.
“When I separated from the Navy, I was at loose ends for a while. Really didn’t know what I wanted to do. I had some time on my hands and knew one of my old commanders had retired in Key West. And when I say old, that’s a relative term. He was fifty. He’d always told me to come and see him when I got out. So I did. Turns out he’d started an air charter business a few years back, then expanded to air cargo.”
A pair of loons surfaced ten yards to their left and, apparently not bothered by their presence, cruised around for several seconds before diving again.
“As it also turned out, he was looking for a pilot. He wanted to expand his fleet and his routes. Asked me to join him. So I did.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Almost five years now. Three years ago, though, he got a wild hair and decided he wanted to pack it in and retire—for real this time—in Tahiti. He offered me a sweet deal on the business, so I bought him out, and that’s how I ended up in Key West.”
“It sounds exotic. Jimmy Buffett. Margaritaville. Surf. Sand. Sun.”
“Humidity, hurricanes, spring break, and a nightmare of federal regulations that make my teeth ache. Don’t get me wrong. I’m grateful. And business is good. But being here . . . well . . .”
He paused, and his silence compelled her to look at him.
“Being here is special,” he said, with a smile that was far more intimate than a conversation about Minnesota should be. “And not only because of the wildlife and the scenery.”
“There’s a little beach where we can put in on the north shore,” she said, knowing she was blushing again and hoping he’d think the exertion and the sun were at fault. “I thought we’d stop there and have lunch before heading back.”
“Show me.”
She pointed to an inlet about a hundred yards away.
He smiled that “I’ve got your number” smile again, and she felt that roller-coaster rush she experienced far too often since he’d shown up in her store yesterday afternoon.
“Race ya.”
It should have come as no surprise that he’d be competitive. “You’ll lose,” she promised, and, glad for the diversion, she dug deep with her paddle.
Behind her, he laughed. “Who said go?”
“Already looking for excuses?” she yelled over her shoulder.
“No, ma’am.”
She could hear his paddle rhythmically break water as he raced after her.
“Just so we both agree: winner gets to pick a prize.”
“Fine. And loser gets to start the fire and roast the hot dogs.” She didn’t look back. She focused on the shore and gave it everything she had. “Hope you were a Boy Scout.”
Another laugh. “Hope you’re a good loser.”
T Y WATCHED J ESS’S very tidy backside as she bent over the round iron fire ring and lit a match to kindling. “You can tell a lot about a person by the way they handle a good trouncing.”
“That was not a trouncing. You beat me by a nose.”
“A win’s a win.” He smiled, knowing he shouldn’t be enjoying this so much. The lady was a contender. He liked it. But winning the race had cost
Similar Books
