by Anna Durand
By the time I returned to the house, Val was in the kitchen. He perched on a stool at the island.
"I've been waiting for you," he said when I walked into the house.
Despite being naked, he managed to look serious. Not suicidal serious, but rather, contemplative serious.
"What's up?" I asked as I parked my butt on the stool beside his. We faced each other, our knees inches apart.
"I have a proposition for you."
"Don't you think it's a bit soon for a proposal?"
He rolled his eyes. "Not that kind of proposition. What I'm offering is a business proposal."
"Okay," I said cautiously. Whatever he was up to, I hoped it didn't involve a massive grant from the private foundation he'd spent the last few hours setting up for this purpose.
Val slanted toward me, his gaze intent on mine. "I want to be your business partner."
"Business?" I searched his face for some sign it was a joke, but he still looked serious. "Partner? Do you mean, like, an official partner? I have an LLC, you know."
"Yes, I know. I want to buy into it and become a full-fledged partner."
My mind seemed to have screeched to a halt. I couldn't form thoughts, much less words. When I managed to speak, I babbled and even laughed nervously while I did it. "My company is a single-member LLC. I'd have to, uh, redo it somehow. I mean, a partnership LLC is different and— Are you sure about this? I've made some strides with the business, but you might lose your shirt."
He smiled. "I lost my shirt years ago. Best decision I ever made."
"You know what I mean." I wrung my hands and bit the inside of my lip. "Risking my own money is one thing. Risking yours… If I bankrupted you, I'd feel awful."
"I wouldn't enjoy bankruptcy either, but I want to do this." He slanted in more, his gaze aimed straight into mine. "For you, I'll take any risk."
A rock hardened in my throat, its edges sharp and rough. Take a risk with Val? I'd done that already, several times over, and it had been the best thing I'd ever done. But personal risks were a whole other thing from professional ones. I might bankrupt us both, and we'd wind up living in a tent in the state forest.
I hadn't worried about losing everything until he'd announced he wanted to be my business partner.
"Trust me," he said, his tone as earnest as the look on his face. "I know the risks, and I want to take them with you."
"What about your modeling career? Your life in LA?"
"I've had enough of that. Earlier, I called my agent and gave her the news. I'm retiring from modeling. After that, I called a real estate agent and put my house up for sale."
My mouth dropped open. "Why would you uproot your whole life?"
"Come on, it can't be that hard to understand." He cupped my face in both his hands. "I'm doing this for you. I want my life to be here with you, running this resort together."
"But why?"
"You still don't understand, do you?" His lips formed the sweetest smile I'd ever seen. "I love you, Evie. You are meu amor, my love. That's what I called you the day of my unfortunate encounter with invisible insects."
"I love you too, Val." The words poured out before I considered what I was saying. His declaration had hit me like the mythical arrow fired by Cupid, sinking deep into my heart. I loved him. The idea might've scared me a month ago, but today, loving him felt like the most right thing I'd ever done. "I really do love you. An awful lot."
"Me too." He smirked. "I love you an awful lot, not myself."
"You're one hundred percent sure you want to run this place with me, as official business partners."
"I do."
"Well then." I peeled his hands away from my face and clasped them to my chest. "Yes, Val, I accept your proposition. I will be your business partner."
"I'll call my lawyer so he can get started on the paperwork."
"Sounds good."
He leaped to his feet, swept me into his arms, and carried me off to our bedroom. For the next hour, we celebrated the best way we knew how—with plenty of grunting and moaning, a few screams, and lots of enthusiasm.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Val
The next day, with our new partnership in the works, I drove into town to visit the hardware and grocery stores—as a business partner, not as Eve's lover. This was my first official outing to buy supplies for the resort. Eve had wanted to come with me, but I'd convinced her to stay home and take care of our guests.
Our guests. I liked that.
I wandered into the hardware store feeling better than I had in years, since before I'd made a public spectacle of myself for the attention and become the accidental star of a sex tape scandal. My old life no longer appealed to me. The thought of going back to LA to finalize the sale of my house and collect my belongings made my jaw tighten. None of that mattered anymore, because I had the right life now. My life with Eve, working with her and living with her, was all I needed.
Ten minutes after I walked into the store, I was talking with an employee who seemed very knowledgeable about paint. Eve had looked at the store's paint selection online and had given me strict instructions to buy only the colors white and seafoam green. If I came back with gray or bright blue she would, she'd promised, sick a horde of no-see-ums on me.
Jeff, the paint expert, was explaining the types of paint to me. I nodded and pretended I understood the differences, knowing I would buy whichever kind Jeff suggested.
Out the corner of my eye, I noticed a figure moving down the aisle toward us. I glanced in that direction and gritted my teeth.
Quentin Smith stopped in the middle of the aisle, looking surprised like he hadn't noticed me before. A muscle ticked in his jaw.
With a herculean effort of willpower, I relaxed my jaw and turned my gaze away from him, back to Jeff. The young salesman seemed unaware of the tension between me and Quentin and had not paused in his description of the types of paint.
"Like I said," Jeff told me, "the paint and primer in one is the easiest to use and has the best coverage. If you want stain protection—"
I swore I could feel Quentin's gaze burning into me. I glanced at him, moving only my eyes.
He had his fists clenched now, along with his jaw.
Fuck him. I would not give the bastard the satisfaction of goading me into a confrontation. I had Eve. He didn't. End of story.
Naturally, the bastard refused to walk away. He marched up to me and growled, "Shouldn't you be going back to where you came from? The worms in the swamp must miss you."
His insult sounded like something straight out of a schoolyard. I almost laughed but quashed it because that would inflame him more. Eve wouldn't want me to beat the shit out of her former handyman. As good as punching him would feel, it wouldn't solve the problem.
Quentin was obsessed with Eve.
I gave him my back and asked Jeff to explain the stain-protection options again.
A hand slapped down on my shoulder. "I was talking to you, nature boy."
"Please excuse me," I said to Jeff. "I need to deal with a personal matter."
Jeff glanced from me to Quentin and back again three times. "Uh, sure. I'll be at the paint counter when you're ready to order."
The young man hustled away.
I turned to face Quentin, maintaining a calm demeanor even while I imagined the various ways I might pummel him. "What do you want, Mr. Smith?"
His eyes narrowed to slits, and he squeezed the words out between his clenched teeth. "I want you to stay the hell away from Eve."
Quentin's attempt to intimidate me failed. I folded my arms over my chest, casually, like I didn't give a damn what he said or did. Well, as long as he was badmouthing me, I didn't care. If he said one rotten thing about Eve…
"I'm not leaving," I said. "Eve and I are partners, in every way."
"Fucking her doesn't make you partners."
"My relationship with Eve is none of your busin
ess."
His mouth flattened into a slash, and veins stood out on his neck. "She'll see through you eventually. Eve isn't one of you nudie freaks. She's a real lady."
I glared at him. "Yes, Eve is a lady. But a real gentleman would never seduce a woman who'd had too much to drink. What does that make you?"
Quentin jerked backward as if I'd kicked him in the nuts. "She wasn't drunk. A little tipsy was all."
"Any amount of impairment should have been enough to stop you." I jabbed a finger into his chest. "You are the one who's a worm."
He stared at me, his face blank, for a few seconds.
I hoped he might give up and go away, but of course, he didn't.
Quentin snarled, "You son of a bitch. I won't let you ruin Eve."
He pulled his fist back and swung it at me.
I caught his fist in one hand and slugged him in the gut with the other.
Spluttering, Quentin doubled over and staggered backward.
"Never show your face to me or Eve again," I said.
He glowered up at me, still bent over hugging his midsection. "This isn't over."
"Yes, it is."
I stalked down the aisle and out of sight of Quentin. For fifteen minutes, I wandered the aisles collecting the rest of the supplies before I headed back to the paint department. Along the way, I passed the checkout aisles. Quentin was making his purchases there, engaged in conversation with the cashier, a perky young woman who seemed to think Quentin was hilarious. Her giggles faded as I hurried past the checkout lines. She eyed me like I was a cobra about to pounce and sink my teeth into her throat.
Who knew what lies Quentin had told the girl.
Once I'd paid for all the supplies, I drove home to Eve. The tension that had lingered ever since Quentin first approached me dissolved the instant I got out of the truck.
Eve raced out of the house and threw her arms around me. She crushed her lips to mine. With her feet dangling off the ground, she broke the kiss and grinned at me. "I'm so glad you're home."
"I am too. But you're acting like I was gone for months, not a few hours."
"Can I help it if I missed you?" She pecked my lips again. "Besides, I'm excited about having you as my business partner."
"That's obvious." I hugged her tighter to me, loving the feel of her warm, supple body. "I need to get out of these clothes."
"Yes, you do." She slid down my body until her feet touched down. "Let's get naked."
She stripped off her tank top and tossed it onto the truck's hood.
I gaped at her, sure I must've been hallucinating. Eve Holt stripping in public? Well, it wasn't exactly public. This was our nudist resort, but still, I'd never imagined Eve would join the natives.
She removed her shorts next, followed by her bra and panties. Her sandals stayed on since we were standing on the gravel driveway. She scanned me up and down. "Why are you still dressed?"
"Your striptease entranced me." I whipped off my clothes, ditching them on the truck's hood with her garments. I held out my hand. "Shall we check in on our guests?"
"Absolutely."
She settled her smaller hand in mine, and together we headed for the lawn where our guests were lounging on picnic blankets. Ollie was playing the guitar and singing a pop song I recognized but couldn't quite name.
"Ollie sings?" I said to Eve as we reached the lawn's periphery.
"Yeah," Eve said, smiling. "He's great, isn't he?"
"He is."
The whole gang suddenly noticed us. Every gaze swung in our direction, and a flurry of surprised sounds and expressions ensued.
Eve didn't blush or turn away. She faced the group head-on, smiling and waving to them, and called out "hello" to each and every guest. She used their first names, even for the ones who'd arrived today. The woman had an amazing memory.
Ollie set down his guitar and hurried up to us with Ruth and Sylvester close behind. The older couple were leaving this afternoon, but they'd stayed long enough to witness Eve's first foray into nudism.
"Evie!" Ruth said as she dragged Eve into a quick bear hug. When she released Eve, Ruth patted her arms. "You finally did it. Doesn't it feel wonderful to get rid of those itchy clothes?"
"Getting rid of my bra sure feels good," Eve said, then flashed me a sly smile. "Though there are certain benefits to wearing clothes."
I loved watching her strip. That was the unspoken benefit.
After everyone had their chance to congratulate Eve on taking the plunge, she and I returned to the house to make lunch for the guests. Unfortunately, that meant we needed to wear clothes during the food prep and while carrying it to the guest house. Once we'd done that, though, we shed our clothes and joined the other nudists for lunch.
For the entire afternoon, Eve stayed nude.
Though nudism wasn't about sex, I had trouble holding back my hunger for her when I spent hours admiring her naked body. By three o'clock, I couldn't stand it anymore. I asked Eve to take a walk down the nature trail with me, but she guessed my intentions as soon as we set foot on the trail.
"Will it be the hot spring again?" she asked. "Or do you have other plans for where we'll have sex this time?"
I patted the blanket I'd slung over my shoulder. "Thought we'd try it on the ground."
"Let's go to the meadow where all the wildflowers are in bloom."
"Perfect."
We made love there in the meadow, surrounded by colorful flowers with the sun warming our bodies and the birds serenading us. It was beautiful. She was beautiful. I loved her body, but I loved her heart and her mind even more.
That night, we made love again and fell asleep with our bodies entangled.
In the morning, I rose before Eve and performed my usual task of making a special breakfast for her. When she moseyed into the kitchen, naked, and stretched her arms above her head, I nearly vaulted over the island to ravish her. I'd developed an enormous amount of willpower since meeting Eve. If I gave in to my desire every time it seized me, we would've done nothing but have sex since the day I'd arrived here.
"Mmm," she hummed as she reached the island. "Smells wonderful in here. What did you make me today?"
"Your favorite. Café Colonial."
"Oooh." She rubbed her hands together. "Breads and cheese and sweet stuff. Yummy."
Eve took a seat on one of the stools, where I'd already laid out the place settings.
I served her a few minutes later and sat down beside her.
"You are an amazing cook," she said while chewing a mouthful of cheese bread. "I'm one lucky girl to have landed a guy like you."
"No, I'm the lucky one." I wiped crumbs from the corner of her mouth with my thumb. "You took a chance on me in spite of my past."
"The best decision I ever made." She glanced around as if she'd forgotten something.
"If you're worried about the guests," I said, "it's taken care of. I made the food, while clothed, and Ollie helped me take it all to the guest house."
She froze mid-chew. "What time is it?"
"Eight o'clock."
Her eyes went wide. "Why did you let me sleep so late?"
"Because you needed the rest. You have a partner now, which means you don't need to work so hard."
Her lips curved into a sweet smile. "I love you, Val."
I kissed her cheek. "I love you too."
A fist banged on the door, rattling it, and a familiar voice shouted, "Eve! Open the door. It's an emergency."
The tone of Ollie's voice confirmed his statement.
Eve and I both ran to the door. She yanked it open.
Ollie was breathing hard like he'd been running. He was wearing clothes too.
"What on earth is wrong?" Eve asked, laying a hand on his arm.
"Just got a call from Sam Walsh at the hardware store."
Sam owned the hardware store, but I couldn't imagine what kind of emergency would compel him to call Ollie.
<
br /> "He tried to call you, Eve," Ollie explained, "but you didn't answer your cell and he didn't have the landline number."
Eve shook her head. "I don't understand. What's the big emergency?"
"There's a passel of reporters heading this way." Ollie glanced toward the driveway. "Some of them already made it to the outer gate. I ran there to check. Since the gate doesn't have a lock, I'm guessing they'll be through it soon enough."
"Wha— I—" Eve looked to me, her mouth open, then looked at Ollie again. "Why would reporters be swarming this place?"
Ollie held up a cell phone. Its screen displayed a social media post that read, "The bad boy of international football is at it again. Val Silva is living in a sex commune where all the guests pose for erotic photos and engage in orgies."
The post included a photo of me and Eve.
Naked. Behind the guest house. Fucking.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Eve
My vision blurred and drifted back into focus as my mind struggled to comprehend what I was seeing. Me and Val. That day we'd had sex behind the guest house. How could anyone have photographed us? How could anyone have known what we would be doing that day? They couldn't have known, but if a tabloid reporter had followed Val here, that person could've been spying on us since the day he arrived.
Why not? The naked truth about Val Silva, bad boy ex-athlete turned model, would make for a splashy headline.
And there it was. The headline. The splash. The lies.
Ollie stuffed the phone back into his jeans pocket. "What should we do? If those paparazzi or whatever they are want to get in, they can climb over the outer gate. The inner gate isn't shut, but even if we close it, they can climb over that too. Should we call the police?"
I couldn't speak. My thoughts whirled, and I couldn't grab on to any of them.
"This is private property," Val said. "They have no right to invade the privacy of our guests. Yes, we will call the police."