by L. A. Fiore
The water was so clear and blue. Every time I swam here I thought of the day I went swimming with Kace in the cenotes. Even all these years later, I had never had a day to top that one.
Brightly colored fish swam by, the occasional turtle, and we were surrounded by coral and sea plants. I had learned that ten kids were the maximum I could handle. It helped that they were all so eager but a little scared. It was smart to be scared because the ocean was unforgiving…beautiful but deadly.
Cece pulled out her snorkel and pointed her chubby little finger toward the seahorse swimming his way through the seaweed. “It’s a seahorse, Willow. Can I touch him?”
“You remember Nemo and how scared he was of humans.”
Her little head bobbed up and down.
“We don’t want to scare him, right?”
“No.” She dragged that out as she shook her head for emphasis.
“They’re getting younger and younger.” Zoe appeared dressed in her business attire, a dark suit and some tropical colored silk blouse.
“They’re adorable.”
“Too little and messy for my tastes.”
“They’re not messy.”
“Some of them are messy. Like that one over there who is pouring the wet sand over his head. It’s going to get caught in all of his crevices. Yuck.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Practical.”
I kept one eye on the kids and asked, “How was Frodo?”
“He was Frodo, shorter than Frodo actually. I spent the night hunched over so I didn’t look like an Amazon next to him.”
“I’m guessing there won’t be a second date.”
“No. I love this island, but honestly finding a man is like finding the treasures you and Decker are always diving for. And if you do meet someone he is usually a tourist and is gone within a week or two.” She glanced over at me and grinned. “Not that I don’t take advantage of that week or two, but sometimes a girl wants more.”
“I would offer you words of encouragement, but I’m feeling your frustration too, so instead I will just say think about all the money you will save on high heels.”
She didn’t want to laugh, but a chuckle came out anyway. “Not helping. I’m here to take the little munchkins to their outdoor picnic.”
“I’ll help you clean them up since I’d hate for the sand to get into all of your crevices.”
“Cute.”
Later that day, I sat on my porch and watched as the storm rolled in. There was nothing like watching a storm on the beach and as fantastic as my view was, there was one place on the island that was even better.
It wasn’t far to walk. The house had been on the market since I moved here, but it wasn’t the house that captivated me; it was the view from the private beach. It was so spectacular that I snuck onto the property a few times a month to just soak it all in.
Every time my breath caught in my lungs. The waves were fiercer than on my beach and especially when a storm was brewing. It was breathtaking.
It was like a mirage the way the house appeared, tucked away from the beach by the indigenous trees of the area—coconut palms, bay, and flamboyant with its fiery orange flowers—that artfully hid the whitewashed villa with its terracotta roof. It wasn’t a large place, but it was perfect. The front was all windows with black shutters for protection against storms and a covered porch with ceiling fans to stir the tropical air. A hammock was tied between two palm trees and I could just imagine lying there with a book and a frosty beverage. I turned to take in the view, the water that stretched out to the horizon like a teal blanket, the white sugar sand and the palm trees, some of which grew sideways and others crooked, but all of them reaching for that blazing sphere in the sky.
I settled on the sand and for the next hour watched the lightning dancing off the water. I was soaked to the skin when I rounded the house on my way home. I noticed the car in the street just in front of the house; the hood was up, but cell service out here was sketchy at best.
“Any luck calling for a tow?” I asked as I came around the front of the car. A man was leaning over the engine and had been for a while with how his shirt was plastered to his skin, accentuating the beauty of his muscled back. My eyes drifted down his arm to the tattoo. He was dressed very conservatively except for that bit of rebellion in the form of ink on his arm. He glanced over his shoulder. His eyes were gray and he had ridiculously long lashes.
“I’ve no signal.” He had a deep cultured voice that resonated in some rather pleasant places on my body. He then straightened and I had to tilt my head back to keep him in my sights. Imposing was the word that popped into my head. Tall, wide shoulders and chest and yet his charcoal gray trousers hung from narrow hips. Dark hair, not black, but the color of a rich, dark chocolate was cut short with just enough length on the top to allow your fingers to get lost in it. Attraction slammed into me, sharp and potent.
I shook it off. “Service is iffy out here.” My eyes drifted down his body because it was a really fine body and settled on his hands. Then I realized I was checking him out while he watched me check him out. Lifting my gaze to his, I was treated to a slight smile. “I live right down the road if you’d like to use my phone and wash your hands.”
I couldn’t for the life of me discern what he was thinking. It was probably best I didn’t know.
“Thank you. I’m going to take you up on that.”
Feeling suddenly self-conscious, I stepped away from his car and awkwardly gestured down the street. “It’s this way.” We had taken only a few steps when I asked, “Are you enjoying St. Croix?”
“Very much.”
“Have you taken any of the boat tours?”
“No.”
“If you have time, it’s quite beautiful seeing the island from the water. If you’re adventurous by nature there’s zip lining, banana boats and parasailing. For food, the touristy spots are great but there are some off the beaten path places like Anceline’s that makes the most amazing rum cake.” I was rambling. Shut up, Willow.
His legs were so long he paced himself to stay at my side. I was five seven and I felt petite next to him. His head dipped. “How long have you lived here?”
“Six years.”
“Nice place to call home.”
“It really is.”
We reached my house and he held the gate for me. The gesture so casually done it wasn’t rehearsed but ingrained. I smiled up at him; his expression was not one I could read. Intense for sure but what else brewed behind those eyes I couldn’t say. I hurried up the front steps and he followed. “I’ll get the phone. The bathroom is through there.”
My hands were shaking when I reached the kitchen so I took a minute to calm down. I wasn’t sure what it was about him that caused the nerves. Sure, he was sexy as sin, also a stranger who could snap me in two with very little effort, and maybe that was it, the danger that seemed to be just as ingrained in him as his manners. Conservative in his dress and yet he sported a tattoo. The contradictions that begged to be pieced together to reveal his story and I had a feeling there was a hell of a story around the sexy man currently using my bathroom.
When I stepped out onto the porch, he was already there with his hands in the front pockets of his trousers, the wet cotton stretched across the muscles of his back. My mouth watered.
“I’d offer you dry clothes, but I don’t have any.”
He turned his head and for a second he just stared before he said, “Beautiful view.”
I handed him the phone. “I pulled up Bobby’s number. He’s the closest garage to me.”
“Thanks.”
I stepped off the porch to give him privacy. He joined me a few minutes later.
“Thank you,” he said as he handed me back my phone and started for the gate. Disappointment had my shoulders slumping. I didn’t know what I was hoping for, but I didn’t want him to go.
“Enjoy the rest of your stay.”
He reached the gate and loo
ked back at me. “See you around.” Then he was gone.
It was highly unlikely that I would see him around, but my heart skipped a beat at the thought.
WILLOW
I was getting ready for dinner with Zoe. We were dining in style tonight. The television was on and the repeat of the six o’ clock news was playing. On the small screen were pictures of my parents. It hurt that they hadn’t called to tell me they had found the King’s Mirror. That I learned about it when everyone else did. Nor had they called to congratulate me on finding Les Deux Cadeaux. Even after all these years, I still expected more from them. I needed to move past that because they would never be who I wanted them to be.
“The treasure hunting duo, The Blakeleys, have done it again. Behind me stands the ruins of a tomb belonging to the fabled pirate Santiago; It was said he was the pirate that took on a young Blackbeard as an apprentice. He wasn’t so fabled, his story not myth or lore and within his tomb, the secret to where Blackbeard’s elusive treasure was hidden. As amazing as it is to say, the Blakeley’s have found Blackbeard’s treasure. The King’s Mirror was a coronation gift for King Philip IV of Spain that disappeared after he died. Many believed the mirror was also lore, but this reporter saw it with her own eyes. Decades of searching, and many tragedies had some in the antiquities world believing the treasure was cursed. Or perhaps the curse is on the Blakeleys. Trouble and danger seem to follow them. Mishaps have occurred in more than a few of their hunts, but then Indiana Jones’ quests were not without their complications. It isn’t just Nathan and Miriam making news. Their daughter, Willow Blakeley, was recently on the crew that brought up Les Deux Cadeaux, rumored to be a gift to King George from the American colonies after the Revolutionary War. Maybe one of these days they’ll team up. I for one can’t wait to see what they discover.”
“I’m going to die an old maid. And knowing my luck, my cats will eat me. Maybe they’ll bow their heads in respect before their sharp little teeth start tearing at my flesh.”
Zoe had invited me to dinner at one of the more elegant restaurants at the resort that had an incredibly long waiting list. The place was seriously swanky. We were seated in a quiet corner near a stone fireplace. Beautiful people were everywhere, the hushed tone of voices, the soft clinking of silverware against china. Vases of fresh cut flowers graced the tables, the lighting was subdued and the scents coming from the kitchen were incredible. We had been eyeing the place since it opened, but she was ruining my appetite with her imagery. “You don’t have cats.”
“If I did.”
“We’ve waited a long time to be sitting here, please don’t ruin this by putting nasty visuals in my head.”
“Fine.” She looked around the dining area. “Tell me I’m fabulous for scoring us a complimentary dinner in this joint.”
“How did you?”
“I had the highest customer service rating this month.”
“Congratulations. That’s fantastic.”
“I’m fantastic.” Her eyes found mine. “Speaking of fantastic, you were mentioned on the news earlier.”
“I know. I saw it.”
“I can’t believe your parents found Blackbeard’s treasure.”
“Pretty incredible, isn’t it?”
“And you, following in their footsteps.” Her eyes narrowed. “What is that look for?”
I had been thinking about the sexy stranger. “There was a guy.”
“What? Who?”
“I didn’t get his name. His car broke down outside of my hideaway house.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen your eyes sparkle like that unless you’re talking about your pirate.” I had told Zoe about Kace. Not immediately, I didn’t want her thinking I was a slut, but now she knew everything.
“He was pretty spectacular.”
“What aren’t you saying?”
“I’ve dated a few men while living here, but I’ve never felt that instant attraction…that punch of lust. I felt it with Kace.”
“And now you’ve felt it again.”
“Yeah.”
“Why is that a problem?”
“It’s stupid.”
“It’s how you feel. That’s not stupid.”
“Ever since I was a kid, I’ve always believed that there was one person out there for me. I know that’s not a popular opinion, but for me...”
“And you thought Kace was that man and now here comes sexy stranger number two and you are questioning a belief you’ve held onto for your whole life.”
“Exactly.”
“There are worse beliefs to have foiled.”
“I know.”
“So what’s this man look like?”
“Tall, dark hair, gray eyes.”
Zoe’s jaw actually dropped. “And he dresses casually elegant?”
“Yes. How did you know?”
“Sexy 354. Holy shit, you spoke to him?”
“Sexy 354?”
“That’s the room he is staying in. Oh man I’d like to drill a hole in the wall outside his bathroom and watch that man shower.” She leaned forward. “Do you think he jacks off in the shower? There is nothing sexier than a hot man jacking off in the shower.”
“When have you ever seen a hot man jacking off in the shower?”
“My books and I have an amazing imagination. If I had his body, I’d be feeling myself up all the time.”
“You’re ridiculous.” Then I sought to change the subject because I saw that gleam in her eyes. Another second and she would be hunting down Sexy 354 to ask if he jacked off in the shower. “I really like your hair like that.” And I did. It was auburn tonight and slicked back from her face.
She could be such a girl. Her hand lifted as her fingertips brushed over her auburn tresses. “Really?”
“Yeah. It is your best look yet.”
Her smile took up her whole face as her focus shifted to her menu. “There’s too much to choose from.”
My diversion worked, but that was Zoe. Her attention span wasn’t great.
I closed my menu. “I’m getting the filet mignon.”
“Good, I couldn’t decide between that and the spiny lobster. I’ll get the lobster and we can share.”
“Surf and turf, sold.”
The maître d’ walked into the dining room and right behind him was a tall gentleman who had the sexiest walk. It was only when they got closer that I recognized him. “Holy crap.”
“What? Do I have something in my teeth?” Zoe asked at the same time she held her hand over her mouth.
“Can you be cool?” I asked even knowing the answer.
She gave me that look, the ‘what are you talking about it’s me’ look. “Can I be cool? Babe, I was born cool.”
“Seriously, no screaming, no jumping up and down and no, under any circumstances, tackling.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Sexy 354 is sitting three tables over from us.”
“Holy shit,” she shrieked, loud enough to reach the table to our immediate right. I smiled an apology before narrowing my eyes at Zoe.
“That was not cool.”
“Reflex. It’s really him?”
“Yes.”
“Who’s he with?”
“No one. He’s alone.”
“We should invite him to join us.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Zoe, no.”
“Then let me sit there so I can look at him.”
“No.”
“You’re being difficult.”
“I’m already sitting here, it will draw attention if we get up and switch now. Go to the rest room, you’ll have to walk right by him.”
“Oh. Good idea.”
“But be cool.”
“I can be cool.”
She wasn’t cool. Not two feet from the table she tripped on her own feet and nearly went face down into a plate of chicken marsala. A passing waiter saved her. I couldn’t see her face, but I k
new it was as red as an apple. Sexy 354 never looked up from his phone, completely missing the show. She then walked passed him, turned around and started making lewd gestures. I sank a bit lower in my seat as I lifted the menu to hide my face. She really shouldn’t be allowed out in public.
“Can I get you a drink to start?”
It was strange that in a posh restaurant like this the server would approach the table when not all the diners were present. I was so embarrassed I couldn’t face him so I spoke into the menu. “I’m just waiting for my friend.”
He made a strange sound, which had my eyes reluctantly lifting. He looked uncomfortable. “Your friend is currently sitting with another guest.”
That was why he came over. Then his words registered. Another guest…she wouldn’t. I peeked around the side of my menu and there was the back of my ex-best friend’s head sitting across from Sexy 354. And she was eating his bread.
“What the...” I threw a look at the waiter. “How is that acting cool?”
Too polite or professional to answer, the waiter just stood quietly waiting for me to place my drink order.
“She’s sitting at a stranger’s table eating his bread. That is a new low for her.”
I looked over at the couple next to me who were politely trying to ignore the shenanigans going on, but it was a bit hard. “And she thinks she can play it cool.”
The man chuckled; the woman was too busy drooling into her Manhattan.
I turned back to my waiter. “Martini, dirty with an olive. Make it two martinis.”
“That would be one for you and your friend?”
“No. They’re both for me. She’s on her own.”
His lips curved up slightly on one side. “Very good.”
When I glanced over again it was to find a pair of gray eyes looking back. It was reflex, my menu went back up and I sank even lower. A minute or two later, Zoe returned.
“Holy shit, he’s hot.”
My menu came down on my plate with more force than I intended. “I am never again taking you to a restaurant that doesn’t require a bib to eat. I cannot believe you just sat down with him.” I leaned closer. “You were eating his bread.”