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for our guest.” Pick crossed his arms.
    Connor jutted the stick forward and made the two shots from the impact of one hit. “And that’s how it’s done. Want to bet me on the next one, Pick?”
    So, this is probably why I never played pool. Two strokes in and my new hosts were ready to gamble.
    Pick winked at me from under his hat. “He is definitely trying to impress you.”
    I smiled, but tried to ignore the comments and what Pick was insinuating. I wasn’t interested in Connor like that. Both of the boys were sweet, but playing pool was enough for me.
    After three rounds, I mastered enough of a stroke to sink a few shots. Pick and Connor were fun to hang out with. I learned that they attended the local community college, and spent much of the spring break season at Connor’s parents’ beach house. They had been best friends since the age of five. I also learned Pick was short for Pickford, a family name that had been passed down for four generations.
    “Looks like we taught Carolina here how to play eight ball.” Connor slapped his friend on the back before taking a sip from a longneck bottle.
    “I think I have a long way to go.” I handed the pool cue back to Connor. “But, thanks for the lesson. I had fun.”
    “Anytime. Wait. Can I buy you a drink before you leave?” Connor’s expression turned sheepish and his gaze hit the floor.
    I looked at the lanky boy and knew then Pick had been right, Connor was crushing on me. “Thanks, but I’m pretty tired. Long day with the flight and the lost luggage, you know? Maybe another time.” I didn’t want our fun night to turn awkward. I was hoping he had put me in the friend zone from the beginning as I had done.
    “Sure, darlin’. We’ll do it another time. Good night.” Connor grinned. If he was disappointed, he didn’t show it. He leaned over and tucked a folded napkin in the crease of my fist.
    I decided to wait and open the napkin when I was in the privacy of my room. No sense in making things uncomfortable now.
    The guys tipped their hats in my direction as I waved goodnight.

    ***

    Gripping my purchases from Sandy’s, I waited for the steady stream of cars to let up so I could cross the street. The air was warm on my face and rested on my shoulders. The faint notes from the guitar player trickled out into Pete’s parking lot as the cars continued to whizz by. When I woke up this morning, I had a mission to make it to South Padre alone—to prove that I was strong enough without Brett. Standing across the street from the Palm Palace, I felt like I had proven more than my strength. I couldn’t help but smile.
    During the break in the cars, I walked across the street , and headed down the few blocks to the Palm Palace. The vacancy sign flashed in the office window. On the other side of the glass, Grey was sitting at the desk facing stacks of receipts and paper. An opened beer rested next to him. His hands were grasping either side of his head, and he was utterly entranced in a mound of paperwork. I noticed the clock above his head read almost 1 a.m. My pool playing with Pick and Connor had lasted longer than I realized.
    I paused for a second in front of the window , watching Grey sort through the piles and punch figures into a handheld calculator. He was older than I was. I guessed maybe twenty-seven or twenty-eight, and from my vantage point, it looked like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. I thought about what Mac had said about him at the bar. There was a ton of work to do here, especially if the handyman was also the bookkeeper. I had yet to spot another employee.
    Not wanting him to catch me peeking again, I picked up my step and hustled to room twenty-three.
    I tossed my shopping bags on the dresser and kicked my sandals off my tired feet. All I wanted to do was take a hot shower and crawl into bed. Thank God my first night in South Padre was finally over.

CHAPTER THREE

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