by Reese Ryan
“Where’d you guys park?” Dexter asked, turning toward the lot.
“Over here.” Dakota led the way toward Sinclair’s luxury SUV.
Her friend wasn’t in the front seat. They pressed their faces against the darkened back windows, peering inside the vehicle. There was still no sign of Sinclair.
“She isn’t here. She isn’t anywhere.” Dakota’s breathing became shallow, and it was more difficult to draw in air. Her eyes stung with tears. “I need to call my dad right now. He’ll know what to do.”
“Are you sure you’ve looked everywhere inside the club?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“Before you wake Chief Jones, why don’t we check the place one more time?”
“And what if Sinclair is bound and gagged in the back of some nondescript sedan getting farther and farther away while we waste time rehashing what I’ve already done?” She propped a fist on her hip.
“If we call the police right now, they’re going to suggest that we check the place again. Your father probably would, too. If we look again and we still don’t find her, I’ll call the station myself. All right?”
“We should get Nick and Em to help us,” she said.
“Em went home a little after our set ended. Nick left with his new friends not long afterward. For right now, we are the cavalry. If we split up, we can cover the place more efficiently.”
Dakota nodded, and they made a quick plan to divide up the search.
She started with the patio, then checked the sofas in the lounge area before heading for the restroom again. Sinclair was nowhere to be found. Dakota stepped out into the hall, tears staining her cheeks.
How did you feel once you discovered that your friend was missing?
God, she’d asked the loved ones of victims that stupid ass question more times than she could count. She hated asking it, but her producer insisted. The pain they felt was etched in their faces. Their voices trembled with it. It was a completely unnecessary query meant simply to get an emotional rise out of the interview subject. Now, more than ever, she felt like a jerk for all the times she’d asked it.
A door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY opened suddenly. Dexter’s wide shoulders backed out of the room. A cascade of brown hair with blond highlights tumbled over one shoulder.
“Sinclair?” Dakota hurried toward the end of the hall and held the door open for Dex, who cradled her friend in his arms. “You found her. Is she okay?”
“Sin’s fine. Just knocked out. Guess she partied a little too hard tonight. She complained of a headache about an hour ago, and one of the bartenders gave her permission to take a nap on the sofa in the employee lounge. The conversation happened while the bartender you talked to was on break,” Dexter explained.
Tears of relief wet Dakota’s face.
“I’m just glad she’s okay.” Dakota brushed hair from Sin’s face as her friend snored quietly. “I need to get her home, and I could use your help. I’m sorry. I’m sure this isn’t how you’d planned on ending your night.”
“I promised I’d get you two home safely tonight, and that’s what I’m going to do,” he said. “Here’s her purse. The keys to her SUV should be inside.”
Dakota rummaged around in Sin’s bag for her keys. She held them up. “Got ’em.”
They got Sin in the back seat of her truck, still asleep; then Dex opened the passenger door for Dakota before going back to retrieve his sax.
“How will you get back to pick up your truck?” Dakota asked once he’d settled into the driver’s seat.
“Nick or Em will bring me back here sometime tomorrow. It’s no big deal. People leave their cars here all the time. The Foxhole does a great job of coordinating ride share services during Friday Night Jam Sessions so everyone gets home safely.”
They rode in silence for the first several minutes as she watched the ocean on the other side of Jessamine Drive. It was a clear night, and the moon was high and bright in the sky.
Dakota peeked at Sin, who was still fast asleep in the back seat. Mouth open and head tipped back. She considered taking a photo to torture her friend with. It would serve Sin right for scaring her to death like that.
She turned toward the handsome man seated behind the wheel of her friend’s SUV. “Thanks, Dexter. If you hadn’t come along when you did—”
“Sin would’ve been fine,” he interrupted. “All I did was ask the right person the right question. You would’ve eventually done the same.” His eyes were still on the road.
A typical Dexter Roberts response. He’d always been low-key. In interviews for the school newspaper, he’d never crowed about the amazing numbers he’d put up in a game. Instead, he’d used the opportunity to praise his running backs and receivers. The offensive line for protecting him and giving him enough time. The defense for keeping them in the game when the team was off to a slow start. The coaches for keeping them ready and calling the right plays.
She’d never been sure if he was uncomfortable taking the credit or if he was simply farsighted enough to recognize that sharing the acclaim would endear him to the town, his teammates, and his coaches. That they would all work that much harder for him the following week.
It was one of the traits she’d adored about him. He was confident enough in himself that he hadn’t needed to talk shit about the other team or crow about himself in order to be noticed by college scouts.
“Well, thank you anyway. If Sin were conscious right now, she’d thank you, too.”
“I knew Sin was probably fine.” He shrugged. “I did it for you.” He glanced over at her momentarily. A small smile curved one side of his mouth. “I was afraid you were going to blow a gasket back there.”
“Accurate.” She sighed, looking out the window again. “When you’ve seen, up close and personal, how awful human beings can be to one another, even to the people they claim to love…” She shook her head trying to erase all of the ugly images that came to her mind. “Well, let’s just say I’m not as optimistic as I once was.”
He was quiet for a moment. “That’s a shame. I always loved that about you. It’s one of the greatest things you taught me. To look on the bright side of things and to never give up.”
Dakota regarded the man’s profile as he stared ahead, focused on the empty road that stretched out in front of them. She wasn’t sure how to respond to the compliment. It was the second time tonight he’d claimed that she’d had a lasting, positive impact on his life.
Unsure of what to say, she changed the subject.
“I’m going to spend the night at Sin’s place. Once we get her settled in bed, I can bring you back to get your truck. I’ll be fine by then.”
“Not necessary.”
“Well, at least let me take you home,” Dakota insisted.
Dexter laughed. “I guess Sin didn’t tell you.”
“Didn’t tell me what?” Dakota’s shoulders tensed. She’d had enough surprises tonight.
“Sin and I are neighbors. My condo is on the second floor of her building.”
“No, she never mentioned that.” Dakota glared at her friend, innocently sleeping in the back seat. “Well, that’s good. Still, one of us can take you back to get your truck in the morning. It’s the least we can do.”
“Knowing you’re both okay is all the thanks I need, Dakota.” Dexter’s voice dipped to a low, sultry tone and his intense gaze met hers as the vehicle idled at a stoplight.
Heat crawled over Dakota’s skin and drifted down her spine, settling into the space between her thighs. She felt the sudden need to press her knees together.
Words caught in her throat, her chest rising and falling rapidly. The sound of her pulse reverberated in her ears.
Dakota turned back toward the window, her eyes drifting shut.
Would there ever be a time when she wasn’t susceptible to the Dex Factor?
* * *
Dexter carried a still-sleeping Sinclair into her luxury condo on the top floor of his building. He fol
lowed Dakota into the master bedroom.
He’d last seen the place five years ago, when Sinclair had been trying to sell him his condo—a fixer-upper that was a gaudy tribute to the seventies. He’d bought it as an investment property, but a couple of years ago, he’d bought a bigger house as a rental property and made this condo his weekend home.
The girl always had style. And while the place had looked nice when he’d last seen it, she’d taken it to the next level. The decor and finishes were stunning. Like something out of a magazine.
Sinclair barely stirred as he lay her in her bed after Dakota pulled back the duvet.
When Dakota slipped off her friend’s shoes, Dexter moved toward the door so Dakota could get Sin out of her club attire.
“Give me a minute to get her into her pajamas.” Dakota rummaged through one of the dresser drawers. “And I’ll be right out.”
It was late, and it had been an incredibly long day, so he’d planned to go back to his place to get some much-needed rest. But unable to pass on spending a few more minutes with Dakota, he returned to the great room and waited instead. The layout of their condos was similar, but the footprint of Sin’s place was about five hundred square feet larger than his. Plus, the view from the top floor was incredible.
Dexter slid the patio door open and stepped out onto the balcony. He leaned over the railing and stared down at the empty stretch of beach beneath them. It was beautiful. Peaceful. Calm. A few of the many reasons he loved living here.
His condo on Myrtle Beach was a stone’s throw from the coast, too. But the beach there was much busier. The city no longer had the calm vibe they still enjoyed here on the island. He could understand why some of the locals were so passionate about maintaining their quiet, calm way of life. They feared that having the resort here would change Holly Grove Island for the worst. But the world was changing, and the island needed to change with it. He’d do everything in his power to ensure that any growth related to the resort would be good for the island and for the people who called it home year-round.
The patio door slid open, and he turned around. Dakota stepped out onto the balcony in her bare feet. Her eyes widened as she regarded the clear, starry sky and the bright, beautiful moon. “I’d forgotten how lovely the island is at night.”
“The New York night skyline is pretty spectacular, too.” He didn’t know why he’d said it. He wanted Dakota to stay here on the island. Not return to New York.
“It is,” she agreed. The wind whipped her hair across her face. She tucked it behind her ear. “They’re both beautiful in their own unique ways, I suppose.” She turned, studying him for a moment, as if he were a mystery she was trying to decipher.
But not as beautiful as you.
Though, to be honest, anyone could see how beautiful Dakota was on the inside and out. She’d always been compassionate, going out of her way to make kids who didn’t quite fit in feel welcome. She’d treated everyone the same. Given everyone the benefit of the doubt. She’d been affectionate toward her friends and family. Toward him.
“So I promised you a dance tonight.” Her mouth quirked in a half smile. “And I’m a woman of my word.”
Dexter rubbed his jaw. There was nothing he wanted more right now than to hold Dakota in his arms under the stars on this beautiful night. But the fact that they could never be anything more than friends as long as they both worked at the resort pained him.
“I appreciate the offer, but you must be tired.”
“I am. But not too tired to honor my word. Besides, it feels like the right way to thank you for what you did tonight.”
“A dance beneath the stars with the most beautiful girl in the world.” He uttered the sincere words without thought. “I’d be a fool to turn that down.”
“You’re laying it on a little thick, pal.” Dakota flashed an almost shy smile.
“Only calling it like I see it.” He stepped forward, snaking an arm around her waist and grasping her hand. Her sweet scent filled his nostrils, and though he maintained plenty of space between their bodies, he could still feel the heat from hers.
Dakota tipped her head back to meet his gaze and placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s too late to play music out here on the balcony. We’ll just have to use our imagination.”
“Or…” He pulled her closer as he sang the opening lines of Frank Sinatra’s “The Way You Look Tonight.”
Her back tensed when he first started to sing. But by the second stanza, she’d relaxed in his arms as they moved together beneath the stars.
They’d both fallen in love with the American standard while watching the romantic comedy My Best Friend’s Wedding. The scene where Dermot Mulroney’s character sang the song to Julia Roberts’s character as they danced on the ferry had been a favorite of Dakota’s. And he hadn’t hated it either.
He could still quote the words from the scene they’d watched together so often.
If you love someone, you say it. Right then. Out loud. Otherwise…the moment just passes you by.
Dakota had turned to him one day while they were watching that scene and she’d done just that. She’d told him she loved him, quickly adding that she didn’t expect him to say it back.
But he had. Because he did. He just hadn’t known how to tell her until that moment. He’d refused to let the moment pass him by.
Even after all of the time they’d spent apart, he still loved her. Maybe not the same way he had then, because they weren’t the same people they were then. But he cared deeply for her, and he always would.
When he finished singing, they stopped swaying, and he expected Dakota to retreat. Instead, she tipped her chin, her gaze meeting his expectantly.
Dexter studied the full, lush lips he’d kissed hundreds of times what felt like a lifetime ago. His own lips tingled with the vivid memory of the taste and feel of hers. He wanted to pull her body flush against his as he tasted her mouth again. Satisfy the curiosity that had plagued him since that day at the Fourth of July Festival.
But instead, they stood there frozen until Dakota slipped out of his arms, leaving a noticeable chill as an ocean breeze swept across the balcony, rustling her hair. Dakota rubbed at the goose bumps that had popped up on her flesh.
“The songs the band played at the club tonight,” she said finally. “Are they part of your usual set?”
“Most of them. But ‘Pretty Brown Eyes’ and ‘Cupid’ were recent additions,” he admitted.
“Oh.” She gazed out at the sea again, and an awkward silence engulfed them.
There were so many things he’d planned to say to Dakota. So many things he needed to tell her. But the unexpected promotion and her acceptance of the contract position had derailed his plans. He was her boss now. Getting involved with Dakota could complicate matters and jeopardize his chances of being named the new director of operations. Something he’d been working toward his entire career.
Even if he was willing to sacrifice the opportunity for the chance to be with Dakota, she had no intention of staying on Holly Grove Island. In a few months, she’d pack her bags and walk away. He honestly didn’t know if he could handle losing her again.
“It’s late. I should go.” Dex slid the patio door open.
“Yes, it is late,” she agreed, her voice faint and her eyes filled with disappointment. “And it’s been a long night.”
He grabbed the sax she’d carried up for him and stepped out into the hall. “Good night, Dakota. Be sure to lock up.”
“I will. And, Dex…” She followed him out into the hall and hugged him, her cheek pressed to his chest. “Thank you. I appreciate everything you’ve done.”
He inhaled the sweet, floral scent of her hair, frozen at the unexpected gesture as he savored the sensation of her warm, soft body pressed to his. Dexter draped his free arm around her. “Anything for you, Dakota,” he whispered. “All you have to do is ask.”
She nodded, neither of them speaking. Finally, she pulled away and ducked back in
side Sin’s condo, wishing him a good night.
Dexter groaned as he made his way toward the elevator, wishing he hadn’t let the moment pass tonight.
Chapter Sixteen
Dakota rushed into the office, her messenger bag and purse both slung across her body as she tried not to spill the coffee she’d picked up for her meeting with Nick.
It was her second official day working for the resort, but with the impending opening, she’d had to hit the ground running. She’d spent the days before she officially started familiarizing herself with every piece of information on the resort. Nick had also given her access to all the stats she needed. The expected occupancy of the hotel, how the increased traffic would impact the island, and most important, the additional revenue that the town and its small business owners could expect.
Now she, Nick, and Dexter were meeting with the mayor, the town historian, and several local business owners who still objected to the opening of the resort. While the mayor had been all for the project in the very beginning, he was much less vocal about that support with the small business owners airing their many gripes about the resort. The complaints of those business owners, plus a few of the diehard locals, had created an unwanted groundswell of discontent, slowly shifting the opinions of the townsfolk.
The beach will be too crowded.
There will be too much traffic.
An influx of strangers might mean an increase in crime.
With the soft opening drawing closer, the ill will of local residents was the last thing the resort needed. The group of discontent townsfolk couldn’t stop the opening, but their complaints could create an avalanche of bad press, which would divert from any positive press about the opening of the resort. And the town council could make their lives miserable as they planned various events going forward. They had to get ahead of this before things got any worse.
Dakota had been hearing similar objections for as long as she could remember. It was the reason the town had fought so hard to keep chain stores and big box retailers at bay. They hadn’t wanted to sacrifice their way of life. The longer Dakota had been back home, the more she understood why holding on to the quieter, slower pace was so important to them.