“Her—what?”
“Service, Ryan,” she clarifies. “Acts of service. You can’t tell Tess you love her and make her believe you. She won’t. It’s not in her nature. Your best chance is to show her.”
I clap my hands together, brain whirring. “Right, show her. I can do that. Wait—how do you show someone you love them? Flowers? Chocolates?”
She smirks. “Is this a Hallmark movie? Are you gonna teach her the true meaning of Christmas, too, Langley?”
“Well, fuck, I don’t know,” I cry, my frustration rising. “I’ve never done this before. I’ve never tried to show a woman I love her.”
“Honestly, that will probably help. Don’t think about what you should do or what others have done. You need to do what feels right and natural to you. You’re a smart guy, Langley. I’m sure you can figure this out.”
I nod, my brain still working in overdrive as I turn away.
“Hey, Ryan,” Doc calls, breaking my concentration.
I glance over my shoulder, glaring when I see the set of hers. “What now? You gonna threaten me again? List the ways you’ll hurt me if I hurt her?”
“No. I’ll leave the threats to my three-headed guard dog,” she adds with a smirk.
I roll my eyes.
“I was just going to say I think she has a volunteer training event over at Mickler’s Beach today.”
“Yeah, I know. What do you—” And then I go still, my brain crunching on this new information. “Ohhh…and that would?”
“Never know until you try,” she replies. Turning away, she disappears inside her office.
47
“Right, well, I think everyone’s here, duchess,” Joey calls over at me, checking the names on his phone.
All the volunteers are chatting around the picnic table, cups of coffee and reusable water bottles in hand. It’s a warm day for January, and half of us are in our T-shirts and sunglasses. We put out a small spread of fresh fruit and donuts, and it’s all pretty much gone.
Nancy and Cheryl are here, though they’re already certified. Cheryl chats with the Scoutmaster from Ponte Vedra who brought over five Boy Scouts. The boys are all sitting at the table on their phones looking bored. Aside from the Scout troop, there’s an older couple who are friends of the Lemmings and also live at the beach, two college girls looking for summer volunteer hours, and an adorable mother-son duo wearing shirts that say, ‘What the shell?’
I hurry over to where Nancy is helping our rep from the FWC get set up under the picnic pavilion. “We about ready to get started?”
“Absolutely,” Nancy chimes, tucking some loose strands of her dark hair behind her ear. “John says everyone gets a packet to take home, and we’ll just talk through some of the ground rules here before we hit the beach.”
John, the Florida Wildlife Commission rep, towers over tiny Nancy. He looks like an ex-football player with his massive chest and shoulders tucked inside his park ranger shirt. There’s not a single hair on his shiny, bald head. “Everyone signed their release forms?”
“Yep,” I say, holding out the stack of papers in my hands.
He takes them, stuffing them in a folder. “Then we’re good to go.”
I spin around clapping my hands. “Alright, everyone! John says we’re ready to get started.”
As one, the group starts to move. I hurry back over to the picnic table, helping Cheryl collect the trash from the donuts and fruit.
“Whoa, cool car,” the freckle-faced Boy Scout next to me says.
I glance over my shoulder, and my heart freaking stops. I know that little red sports car. Ryan pulls up and parks right next to the picnic pavilion. What the hell is he doing here? He slips out of the car, his mess of blond curls getting tousled by the wind. He looks like he came straight from the gym. He’s still in his Rays tech shirt and shorts. Seeing me, he gives me a wave, that All-American smile melting me.
Goddamn it, girl. Get yourself together.
I huff, dropping the biodegradable plates I’m holding into the trash can, and march over to him. “Are you lost?” I call.
He glances around, shrugging himself into a grey half-zip fleece. “Mickler’s Landing, right? You’re here, which must be a pretty good sign.” He slips on his Ray-Bans, and the kitty is officially purring at the image of this sexy Ken doll smiling at me like I’m where his world stops.
Oh, I am in so much trouble.
“Ryan, what are you doing here?” I press.