I’m sure there’s plenty more to be said here, but my priority is getting to that table so I don’t miss Naomi when she comes, so I take him at his word.
I jog down to the pool where, indeed, Naomi’s phone, computer, sunglasses, and colorful bag are all parked on a table next to a towel-covered chaise lounge.
I collapse into the chair, too exhausted by my mental gymnastics to come up with any sort of plan. I’ll just rest here a minute and process everything that just happened, from the ill-fated meeting, to my talk with Naomi on the trail, to my confessional with Dom.
I’m startled awake by a loud scraping noise. Glancing around, I find one of the pool bartenders dragging a heavy umbrella over and positioning it next to my chair.
“You’ve been in the sun for a while, Sam. I’m just getting you some shade.”
I pull out my phone and gape at the clock on screen. It’s been over an hour. “Thank you. Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
The bartender just smiles. “Everyone needs a break. Can I grab you a drink?”
“A bottle of water would be great.”
He walks off, and I look around. All of Naomi’s things are still here, which means she hasn’t come yet. And it means she still has to.
I settle in for the long haul.
Waiting and ruminating.
I can’t say that my meeting with Dom gave me the relief it would have yesterday. If only I’d found out that my whole plan for hiding my love away was so stupid before I went and shot off my mouth, ruining my chances with Naomi.
Even so, it does feel like a weight was lifted. I’m free to chase her down and get her back—without having to lie about it to everyone around me. I’m not very excited about my friends watching as I grovel, but it’s what I deserve. They all watched me screw up, saying those terrible things in a flailing attempt to keep the cozy little nest she and I created intact. I suppose it’s only fitting that some, or all of them, should get to watch me beg for forgiveness.
I’m halfway through my second cold, refreshing bottle of water when I start regretting my choice. I can hardly leave to go to the bathroom now. With my luck, she’ll swoop in, grab her stuff, and be gone before I return.
I’m just considering which of the pool workers I know well enough to ask to keep her here until I get back, when a long, feminine shadow falls over me. I suck in my breath and turn to look up, prepared to dive off a cliff to make it up to this woman.
“Oh, Sam,” Fran says, her voice filled with soft, kind, sympathy.
I let out my breath and look down at my hands, trying not to let my disappointment show.
“What’s the plan here? Stake out her stuff?”
I shrug, still not looking up. “She has to come get it eventually, and when she does, I’m going to be here to explain, apologize again, and make things right.”
“Well, she sent me instead.”
My head lifts quickly, and I pin Fran with my gaze. “You know where she is?”
“She’s at my house, having drinks with Avery.”
I turn and start carefully sliding all of Naomi’s electronics and accessories into her bag.
“You think I’m going to let you bring that to her, huh?” Fran asks, but there’s no malice in her voice.
I stand and shoulder the bag. “I think you couldn’t stop me if you tried.”
She smiles. “My cart or yours?”
“I’ll follow you.”
Chapter Forty-Five
Naomi
“Of course, it was the Coast Guard coming to investigate because of the black and orange T-shirt I’d decided to run up the mast. They thought we were hostages or something. The rest of us guys were too far gone to explain, but good old Sam rescued our drunk asses by explaining that we weren’t captives, just idiots.”