The Last Sunset

  A jilted bride runs away to Key West where she meets a mysterious beachcomber—but will she find true love again?

  Tess Carter went to Key West after being abandoned at the altar, intending to let herself be washed out to sea. Her attempt at ending it all is thwarted by a rugged beachcomber she encounters who has a unique outlook on life. Is he on the level or hiding something sinister? Will Tess decide to give life and love another chance?

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  The Last Sunset

  Copyright © 2017 Tim Smith

  ISBN: 978-1-4874-1110-7

  Cover art by Angela Waters

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by eXtasy Books Inc or

  Devine Destinies, an imprint of eXtasy Books Inc

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  www.eXtasybooks.com or www.devinedestinies.com

  The Last Sunset

  Key West Heat Book One

  By

  Tim Smith

  Dedication

  For Deb.

  The Last Sunset

  Tess Carter stood alone at the rushing water’s edge on Broken Bottle Beach in Key West, watching the sun make its final descent over the horizon. A light evening breeze ruffled her long auburn hair as she looked from side to side, satisfied that she had the beach to herself. She fingered the engagement ring dangling on a gold chain around her neck, gave it one last lingering look, then shifted her eyes to the sunset. The sky had changed from bright blue to a mix of yellow and orange. We always liked looking at these together. Now you’ll be watching them with someone else, but this will be my last sunset.

  She kicked off her sandals and unwrapped her sarong, pulling it from her lithe frame. She folded it neatly, then set it on her sandals, followed by her small handbag resting on top. She faced the ocean naked for a minute, finally wading into the white foamy surf. She stopped and stared ahead at the sea that stretched to infinity. The water pulled back to gain strength for another run at the shore. She took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled. I decided this was the best way, so let’s just do it.

  She waded tentatively into the surging surf but stopped when it was up to her knees. She let the warm water splash against her skin and choked back a sob. Before she could proceed, she was startled by a gruff male voice that called out from behind her.

  “If you really want to kill yourself, I can show you a half-dozen great ways that are a helluva lot more fun.”

  She spun around and gasped when she saw a lone figure thirty feet away, sitting against the trunk of a palm tree with one leg drawn up toward his hips, the other stretched in front of him, his hands resting in his lap. She ran to the shore and gathered up her sarong, holding it protectively in front of her.

  “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

  The man tilted up the brim of his Panama Jack hat and looked at her. “Last I heard, it was still a public beach.”

  Tess quickly put on the sarong and tied it tightly around her waist. She picked up her sandals and handbag, then began to make a fast, barefoot retreat along the white sands. She looked at the stranger, but he didn’t move. She stopped to stare at him for a few moments, then took cautious steps in his direction. When she was within ten feet, she stopped to examine him more closely. He was probably in his late thirties or early forties, but in the dimming light, it was hard to tell. He wore a sleeveless t-shirt that had once been white with a faded sunset adorning the front, along with a pair of black cargo shorts and no shoes. His lean, tanned face sported at least a day’s growth of beard. She found herself involuntarily intrigued and slowly took a few more steps. He looked at her through slate gray eyes and offered a small smile.

  “Do you... uh... live here on the beach?” she asked.

  He laughed. “Not everyone in Key West sleeps in a hammock beneath the palms. I come here to enjoy the sunsets and the solitude.”

  “Are you a native?”

  He shook his head while looking at her. “I’m what you’d call an expatriate northerner who got tired of freezing my ass off every winter.”

  She looked at him for a moment while deciding if she should stay or run like hell in the opposite direction. The man didn’t make a move, so she decided to stay

  “What’s your name?”

  He shrugged. “Mack, Jack, Larry, Moe, Curly—pick one.”

  She grinned. “Since you’re wearing a Panama Jack, why don’t I call you Panama?” “Better than some of the things I’ve been called. What would you like me to call you?”

  “Tess.”

  “Very pretty. I always liked that name.” He gestured at a nearby stump. “Sit down. I won’t bite.”

  Tess hesitated, then sat. She kept her knees tightly together and her hands folded in her lap, ready to make a hasty exit. She glanced down. “How did you know...”

  “That you wanted to end it all? A couple of things. For one, you kept hesitating when you hit the water. If you were planning a sunset skinny-dip, you would’ve dived in. The other was that monument you built to yourself, leaving your bag on top so someone would find it and know you were here.”

  She raised her eyes. “What makes you such an expert?”

  He hesitated while staring into her blue eyes. “Because I contemplated the same thing myself once.”

  “Who stopped you?”

  “Me, myself and I. I decided she just wasn’t worth it. What’s your tale of woe?”

  She grinned in embarrassment. “In retrospect, it’s pretty silly. My fiancé and I have been coming here for a few years and decided we wanted to get married here. You know, a romantic beach wedding against the setting sun?”

  “Yeah, I’ve seen the brochures for those. It’s a cottage industry down here. What happened?”

  She looked at the twilight horizon. “He waited until the week before we were supposed to leave to tell me he’d found someone else and it was over.”

  “But you made the trip anyway?”

  Tess slowly nodded. “I thought I’d use this as a way to get over him. It didn’t work.” She turned her head to face him. “What led you to come here and get washed out to sea?”

  “Something similar. When I lived in Ohio, I was in the money business and engaged to a banker’s daughter. One day she—or her bastard of a father, I’ve never been sure which—decided my blood wasn’t blue enough to join the clan. I sold my worldly goods, hopped a plane south and here I am.”

  Tess peered into his eyes. “That’s sad.”

  He shrugged. “We all have personal baggage. How far you want to carry it and for how long is up to you.”

  Tess looked down again and absently traced a pattern in the sand with her big toe.

  “Hey,” Panama said, breaking her trance.

  Tess looked at him.

  “Ask yourself one question,” he continued. “Is he really worth it?”
/>
  Tess grinned shyly. “No, I guess he isn’t. Maybe I thought this was a way to get even.”

  “You want to get even? Make a better life for yourself than the one he might’ve given you.”

  “You’re a pretty good philosopher, Panama.”

  He smiled. “I’m just another pretty-faced beach bum.”

  “What do you do here?”

  “A little of this, a little of that.”

  Tess began to relax. “What you said earlier, about a half-dozen great ways to do it that were more fun. Like what?”

  “Hmm, let’s see. Overindulging in Bacardi One-Fifty-One comes to mind, or going parasailing and cutting the tow line when you’re a thousand feet above the ocean. There’s something poetic about sailing off to your destiny. My personal wish is to be shot in a woman’s bed by her jealous husband.”

  Tess laughed. “Cute.”

  “I heard a story about a woman who decided to do herself in by having a night of wild sex with every man she could round up. She basically wanted to screw herself to death.”

  “Did it work?”

  “No, but she had a helluva good time trying.”

  When Tess’s laughter subsided, she looked at him. “Thanks for getting me out of the dumps.”

  He tipped his hat, revealing a full head of dark wavy hair. “My pleasure.”

  Tess cleared her throat. “I suppose now that I’ve made a total ass of myself, I should leave.”

  “You aren’t going to do something silly, like jump off the Seven Mile Bridge or offer yourself up as a human sacrifice to the local coven, are you?”

  “No, nothing like that.”

  “In that case, you may go.”

  She stood and looked at him for a moment while he retained his seat. “I don’t know anyone in town. Where might I bump into you again if I feel the need to talk?”

  “Here, there, you name it. It’s a small island, and I’m around.”

  She smiled, moved closer then held out her hand. “I’ll keep my eyes open.”

  He extended his hand and delicately shook hers. “Pleasure meeting you, fair Tess.”

  “Nice meeting you, too, Panama. Maybe I’ll see you again.”

  He gave her a sincere smile that showed some warmth. “I’d like that.”

  * * * *

  Tess strolled along Duval Street toward Mallory Square the following evening, playing dodge ball with inebriated partiers entering and exiting the wall-to-wall bars and restaurants. A day spent knee-deep in shopping therapy punctuated by a few hours on the beach hadn’t done much to improve her mood or assuage her loneliness. Her thoughts were preoccupied not only by the traumatic events before she left home a few days earlier, but with the stranger she’d met on the shore. Definitely a unique person with a unique outlook on life. Not what I’m accustomed to. Everyone back home is so rigid you’d have to poke them with a cattle prod to get an emotional response. Panama acts like he doesn’t give a damn about much of anything and it’s refreshing. He said he’s around, but where?

  She entered Jimmy Buffett’s Margaritaville Souvenir Shop next to his Margaritaville Bar. Tess thought about going into the bar for a drink and a diversion but decided she didn’t really want to be around a lot of people tonight. After casually looking over the numerous Parrot Head trinkets and clothing items on display, she left the store and continued walking. I hate being alone, but the thought of being elbowed by a bunch of rowdies doesn’t sound much better. Must be somewhere I can go for a quiet time.

  She felt herself blush at her actions from the night before. That was a really stupid thing to do, and Panama was right—he isn’t worth it. Would my ex have done the same for me? Not damn likely. Maybe living well really is the best revenge.

  She walked a bit more then stopped to look at the window display of an antique store. Her eyes homed in on a small elephant carved from teak wood. That has got to be the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen. Who would put that on display in their living room? Her mind drifted again. Why would a guy like Panama admit that he’d tried the same thing I botched when he seems so laid back and carefree? Must be a story in there somewhere. Was it fate that put him on that beach to stop me from making a fatal mistake? I’ve never put much stock in that, but maybe I should start.

  Tess looked across the street at the open bar in front of Tequila Willie’s with a sparse crowd scattered about the restaurant portion. Not too crowded. A perfect match.

  She waited for the traffic to clear, then sprinted across the street. She took a seat at the half-filled bar, glanced around, then looked in disbelief at the man serving drinks and entertaining a couple at the other end. He had on white slacks and an orange tropical print shirt that accented his deeply tanned face and arms. What do you know—Panama Jack, all cleaned up. She watched in amusement as he held up a t-shirt with letters silk-screened across the front.

  “What’s that one?” the man at the bar asked.

  “Depends on when you wear it.” Panama pointed at the letters C-R-A-F-T as he explained. “Daytime it’s Can’t Remember Any Fish Tales. After you’ve been drinking, it’s Can’t Remember A Freakin’ Thing.”

  The couple laughed, and the man pointed at another one. “What’s that one, the one that says L.A.G.N.A.F.?”

  He held it up. “Let’s All Get Naked And Fish.”

  “What about that last one,” the woman asked. “What’s that long word?”

  “D.I.L.L.I.G.A.F.F.”

  “Okay, I give,” the man said.

  Panama looked at him and smiled. “Does It Look Like I Give A Flying... Fish?”

  They both laughed, and the man reached for his wallet. “I’ll take all three. The guys back home will love ’em.”

  He took the man’s credit card, rang up the sale then handed over his shirts in a plastic sack. Tess smiled at running into him.

  “Hey, Panama,” she called out. “How about some service?”

  He turned in surprise and looked at her. His face took on a smile as he approached.

  “If it isn’t the fair Tess. How did you find me?”

  “Luck of the draw. I just walked in, and here you are.” She looked him up and down. “I must say, you clean up well.” She glanced at the name badge pinned to his shirt. “So it’s really Sean, is it?”

  “You discovered my secret.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me that last night?”

  He hesitated. “I’m not sure.” He turned and called out to one of the servers working inside the bar. “Bev, can you cover for me? Thanks.”

  “Aren’t you worried about the tips you might lose?”

  “With her ass, she’ll make out better than I would.”

  Tess craned her neck to look him over. “I don’t know. Your ass is pretty nice, too.”

  Sean’s eyebrows arched. “Thanks, I think.”

  Tess giggled. “You’re welcome. Now it’s your turn.”

  “My turn to what?”

  “Your turn to appraise my ass. After all, you had a great view of it last night.”

  He laughed nervously. “Yeah, I did, didn’t I?”

  “So, what do you think?”

  “I’d have to say you have an award-winning tush. Feel better?”

  “You just made my week.”

  “Glad I could be of help. What would you like?”

  “What’s your specialty?”

  “I’m told I make a mean Mojito.”

  “Sold.”

  He mixed her drink, then set it in front of her. She took a sip, humming her approval. “Very good. What’s up with the t-shirt business?”

  “Just a little something I do on the side.”

  “Doesn’t your boss object to you engaging in a private enterprise on company time?”

  “Tell you the truth, he lets me do it because he feels guilty about the slave wages he pays me.”

  Tess laughed. “I’ve been thinking about something you said last night.
”

  “Which part?”

  “The part about carrying around personal baggage. You sound like you have some experience with that.”

  He glanced down for a moment. “You could say that.”

  “What changed your attitude?”

  “Getting my ass handed to me by fate was one. Moving here was another.”

  “It was a good change?”

  “Best decision I ever made. I don’t have to worry about the nine-to-five grind. I make a decent living, regular customers come to see me, and I get to spend time on the beach.”

  She sipped her drink. “What made you decide to come here instead of somewhere else?”

  “You’ve seen those books they sell in the gift shops that encourage you to quit your job and move to Key West?”

  “Yeah, I have.”

  “I picked up one of those on a trip here, read it and decided to see if it could be done.”

  “And can it?”

  He looked at her with a gleam in his eyes and a small smile. “If you don’t mind not eating regularly and camping out in the nearest empty doorway, yes. Otherwise, you have to get a job.”

  Tess laughed. “You’re quite a character, Sean. Is that the real reason you chose Key West?”

  “It has other benefits. Down here, nobody cares who you are or what you did before you got here. Most of them don’t even care about your last name. I can blend in perfectly.”

  “Sounds like you’re running from something.”

  Sean laughed uneasily while casting his gaze over her. “I’m forgetting my manners. That’s a very nice outfit you have on. Did you get that top here?”

  “Yeah, I found it when I was shopping this afternoon, and thank you.”

  “Where are you from, Tess?”

  “Norfolk, Virginia.”

  “Beautiful country up there. Are you a Navy brat?”

  She laughed. “No, but my fiancé... I mean my former fiancé is in the Navy.” She paused. “On his last tour in the Middle East, he met someone new and decided he wanted to be with her instead of me. Now you know the whole story.”