Page 76 of The Beach Trap

I climb down the ladder and walk over to the switch. Holding my breath, I turn it on, and—hallelujah!—the bulbs flick on, bathing the dining room in warm light. Once I hang the ninety-five crystals around the chandelier, it’s going to be stunning.

“I did it!” I say, delighted. “I mean, with your help.”

“No, that was all you.” He smiles. “I’m sure you can do the ones in the bedrooms without any problem.”

I’m ridiculously proud of myself. Henry calls to Sunny that it’s time to head home. She bounds into the dining room, the dog following her. The top of his head is covered in a dozen multicolored ribbons that Sunny has affixed to his fur.

“Look how beautiful he looks!” Sunny says proudly. “I shall call him Ribbon Head!”

•••

After Henry andSunny leave, I carefully extract each ribbon from the dog’s fur and give him a few nice scratches. Then I sit down on a kitchen chair and look around, satisfaction creeping over me. My vision is turning into a reality, which means I’m getting closer to my goal of selling the house to help my granddad. I talked with him over FaceTime yesterday, with Martina’s help, and he’s doing well. Staying busy watching John Wayne movies and playing bingo in the common area.

The only problem was that Martina had to remind him five times that he was talking to me. Blake, his granddaughter. I need to get back to him before he forgets me completely. But for some reason, my stomach clenches at the thought of leaving.

Maybe because I have nowhere to call home. My grandparents’ house was sold a few years ago; the Vanderhaavens’ house certainly isn’t home, even though I’ve lived there for two years. But I feel a connection to this beach house. It’s tied to afamily and a past I’m just getting acquainted with—plus, I’ve put so much of myself into renovating it. Selling it off is bound to be painful.

But that’s not all. This house is my only connection with Kat. When this summer is over, we’ll have no reason to stay in contact. If she buys the beach house from me, she won’t need me for anything. On the other hand, if she can’t buy me out and we have to sell it, she’ll probably never talk to me again because she’ll blame me for losing it. No matter what, our relationship feels too new and fragile to survive without anything to connect us.

Strange how a few weeks ago I was looking forward to leaving here and never seeing Kat again, and now my eyes are filling with tears at the prospect of losing her, too.

I dash the tears away. There’s no way I can keep this house—that’s ridiculous. I have a responsibility to my granddad, who sacrificed so much for me. Selling this house is the only way to take care of him, and I have to be okay with that. Even if it feels like I’ll be carving away a little piece of my soul.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

KAT

Two weeks later, I’m back in Destin and the Worthington application is more than halfway finished—so when Henry asks if I want to go out to Crab Island with him on his friend’s boat, the only answer is obviously hell yeah.

I haven’t been out on the water in God knows how long—my dad got rid of my grandfather’s boat when I was seventeen. He said it was falling apart and not worth the maintenance and dock-storage fees. I didn’t mind—the Rooneys’ boat was bigger and nicer than ours.

I loved going out on the Rooneys’ boat because I felt like royalty. The fridge was always full of beer and soda, there was a spot out front where we could lay out and pretend to be human hood ornaments—and best of all, CoCo’s dad didn’t make us spend an hour cleaning the boat after every trip. They had staff for that.

I have a feeling Henry’s the type to clean the boat himself like my dad was, but I wouldn’t mind helping him. Especially if he’s stripped down to his swim trunks.

Henry Alexander may not be my type to date, but the man isbuilt like a living sculpture. His broad chest and solid arms are hard not to stare at, and I’ve gotten a few glimpses of what I’m pretty sure is a six-pack while he’s been working.

A body like that is made to be admired, and if he asks for help applying sunscreen while we’re out on the boat, then it would be my honor to help protect him from skin cancer.

I shiver at the thought of him returning the favor, imagining his big, strong hands and calloused fingers on my bare back. I realize I’m getting way ahead of myself. This is definitely not a date—although Sunny isn’t coming with us.

When I asked about her, Henry made a joke about child labor being against the law. I sent back a laughing-so-hard-I’m-crying emoji, because my dad clearly didn’t have that same philosophy.

One last look in the mirror, and I’m ready to go. My outfit is nautical inspired, a cute blue-and-white-striped dress and straw hat I bought from Rachel Worthington’s website. They were full price, which I shouldn’t be paying right now, but I figure it’s important to show that I’m an advocate of the brand with or without the sponsorship.

The swimsuit I have on underneath, a gold lamé bikini, is a little extra for my taste, but right now, I’m not in a position to turn down a paid post. I’ll do a hell of a lot more than wear a crazy swimsuit if it’ll help me keep my beach house.

At the start of the summer, the suit would’ve looked ridiculous against my pale skin, but between my tan and my filters, I’m ready for it. And the contrast will be great against the emerald-green water if Henry snaps a few pictures of me when we get to Crab Island.

Henry offered to pick me up, but he had to make a few stops before getting on the boat, and ten a.m. was already early enough for me to get ready and pack everything up. I’ve got a mini cooler (filled with snacks, bottles of water, and cans of Truly) plus myRachel Worthington beach bag (which is not only cute, but big enough to hold the rest of my essentials: a towel, the latest novel from Rachel’s book club, sunscreen, and tanning spray).

I wonder if this is how moms feel, carrying bags laden with stuff everywhere they go. I laugh at the image of Henry as one of the moms, carting around a diaper bag—maybe a diaper backpack?—when Sunny was a baby. The man seems to put everyone before himself.

I’m glad he’s taking a day off and honored that he’s spending it with me.

•••

The dock whereI’m meeting Henry is farther down in Destin than where we used to keep our boat, and it’s less manicured, too. The parking lot is more like an empty dirt patch, with cars parked wherever they please. I grab a “spot” and triple-check to make sure my car is locked before heading to find Henry.

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