Waves slapped the shore on the far side of Low Tide Drive, where Noah knew the beach would be dark and deserted. He'd gone almost all summer without taking advantage of the view and the peaceful sound of the surf, but those sturdy chairs on the rear patio were a blessing for his battered muscles at the end of his shift. This wooden bench in front, bare and weather-beaten and designed to make customers long to be inside, wasn't much good for more than a few minutes. Already his back had begun to ache.

He leaned back as best he could against the front wall of the building and tried to stretch. He glanced at his watch. Still very late. But thirty minutes earlier than he usually finished up in there.

Closing up seemed to take much less time lately. He wanted to think that he'd become proficient enough with his routine that he managed to get done faster. At one point, he even wanted to blame the late summer and the reduction in crowds for a lighter than average workload. But he knew in his heart that the reason had nothing to do with efficiency, and everything to do with his boss.

Even though he still spent hours within just a few feet of her, he found he missed Gigi. She spent the evening moving from table to table, greeting new customers, giving advice to tourists, and checking in with her many regulars. As the evening drifted on, her long curls would escape from her hairband and frame her face. He wanted his hands there, on that soft skin, in the silken mass of waves. He wanted to see the sun set fire to her dark brown eyes. He wanted her urgent whisper in his ear.

The way her fingers had locked with his when they sat knee to knee on her couch. Those same fingers smoothing warm, fragrant oil into him, pushing the tightness out of his bone-weary limbs.

He reached into the deep pocket of his pants for his phone. He couldn't have any of those things anymore. He'd made sure of that himself.

He thumbed the display of his phone on. No calls. No messages. Damn.

As he did every night, he ran down a mental checklist, making sure he'd done his part to put the bar to bed until the day drinkers arrived in time for lunch tomorrow. His regular task list had gotten longer as September approached. Now it included Miss Ruby Jean's newly fortified fence and the nearly complete repairs on the patio lighting upstairs. He'd have time to paint something for his landlady if he really applied himself, but he imagined she'd prefer to spend more time with him over tea and cookies. He found he shared her preference, even though he'd recently had to discourage her from setting him up with the surprising host of young women she knew.

No one would measure up to his incomparable boss, and even if someone managed that impossible task, he could count on some defect in himself to wreck that relationship, too.

The low rumble of a boat's motor distracted him. Lamont's boat would be bigger, no doubt, more like one of the big dinner cruisers that were so popular around here. Noah wondered if he'd get tired of the water, after spending so much time near the beach. People seemed naturally drawn to the water, the promise of peace in its hypnotic swells and salt-scented breezes. Now, he knew the sight of the waves would remind him of this place and the woman who ran it.

How could he find peace there now?

His body protested as he heaved himself off the bench. Nothing left to do now but lock up.

The phone in his pocket vibrated. He answered it without enthusiasm.

Lamont's cheerful voice rang out, loudly enough to make Noah hold the phone away from his ear. "I would not call anyone else in the world at this time of night. You keep some weird hours."

"Yeah, that's the business." Noah grinned. "It's starting to feel normal now."

"Good to know you're getting used to it. We pull some long days here, too."

Something in Noah looked forward to it, even as the rest of him wanted more of what he had here.

"So how is the bar business?" Lamont asked. "You having a good time?"

"Yeah, it's been great."

"You don't sound great, Monroe. You're still coming down, right?"

"Oh, yeah. I guess… things are winding down." A heavy feeling settled in his chest. He resolved not to sigh into the phone. "They're not going to need me here much longer."

"So you'll be forced to spend a few weeks on the beach, not working. Your life sucks. I can see why you sound so miserable." Lamont chuckled. "Is that why you wanted me to call you in the middle of the night? So you could tell me how much this sucks for you?"

Noah took a deep breath. He'd actually practiced this part, for fear he wouldn't be able to go through with it.

"Actually, I'm calling to see if you can take me a little early." Before he came to his senses, he added, "I can come down next Saturday morning, be there that Sunday."

Lamont was quiet for a moment. "Why?"

Shit. "No reason."

"Bullshit. You never do anything without a reason. What's her name?"

"She's not the reason," Noah lied.

Another silence stretched through the connection. If Noah kept talking, Lamont would know he was lying. He probably wouldn't do anything about it, but once this was over and he went to Florida, Noah wouldn't want to talk about it anymore.

"Well, I can take you whenever you get here. That's no problem. You just let me know when you get here, and I'll figure it out."

"Okay. Thanks."

"Sure. But seriously, Monroe, if something's wrong, don't rush. Take as much time as you need. I'm not in a hurry."

Noah looked into the windows, where the light from Gigi's office spilled into the hallway.

"No, everything's all right. I just need to get moving."

* * *

He wanted to stand in the doorway and watch her for a moment, swiping at her iPad with that furrow of concentration between her brows. But with just the two of them in the place, she'd hear him coming down the hallway. She was looking up at the door when he entered.

"All done?" she asked. She'd doused the spark inside her that made him melt. Civility was no match for it.

"Yeah," he said. He came into her office. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

Her apprehension snapped through the air. He'd forgotten for a moment how the question put people on their guard.

But she gestured to the couch just inside the office door. The springs wheezed when he sat.

He hadn't rehearsed this part. "I called my new boss to see if he can take me a little early."

Her face betrayed nothing. Not even surprise that he'd asked. He wasn't sure what he'd get, but he'd thought she would respond somehow.

"How early is a little early?" she asked. Even her voice was level. Like they were talking about some annoyance. The wrong napkins or a late delivery.

"I'm going to leave the morning after the party." He folded his hands on his knee. "Should get there on Sunday."

Like she cares. Once you're gone, you're gone.

She put down the pen she'd been holding and sighed. "So about two weeks early."

"Yeah." It was short notice, but no shorter than the summer staff usually provided.

She nodded, and neither of them spoke. Not the result he'd dared to hope for.

He knew he'd pushed her away hard enough that he didn't deserve any more from her. But damn, he wished things were different. Some response. Some indication that she was disappointed. Something.

"Well, I'm glad you'll be here for the party. Heather really wants you here for that."

Heather does. "Yeah, she told me. Couple of times."

"Well, I'll let you break the news to her yourself. Don't wait until that night."

"No, I'm not going to ruin her birthday."

Gigi laughed, a hard, brittle sound he'd never heard from her. "It's not that. She won't be in any condition to recall specific conversations that night. So if you want her to remember the next day, I suggest you do it before the party."

He wanted to go back in time to the afternoon he'd fucked everything up. He'd even take the time before their little consenting adults meeting. Or the time before he knew Inn Too Deep existed. Anything would be better than this.

"I'll take care of it."

"Okay, good. I'll have your last check for you before you go." She swiped at her iPad idly. "Anything else?"

He rose slowly, resisting the urge to stretch again. "No, that's it. I'm just going to lock the front door."

She looked down at the tablet. "Sounds good."

The walk to the front door felt twice as long as usual. As hard as he'd known this would be, Noah was glad this was finally over. The end was in sight. It'd hurt like hell to leave.

But getting involved had been his mistake to make.