by Reese Ryan
Nick and Dexter had laid out most of their formal presentation, but they’d saved the summary for her.
Dakota recapped all of the benefits the resort would bring to the island. But before she could finish, she was interrupted by Cleta Gaines, owner of the town’s fabric and fiber shop, Knitty Gritty.
“I’m sorry, Dakota, but how is it we’re supposed to believe that the three of you could truly understand what’s at stake here? You didn’t value the island’s way of life. That’s why none of you stayed. You especially. You’ve lived in New York nearly as long as you lived on the island. You couldn’t wait to leave this place, and you’re only back here now because you lost your job.”
Tension rolled off Dexter, who was seated a few feet from her. Mrs. Gaines’s blanket statement about the three of them had barely registered a reaction from him, but when the woman had homed in on her, his jaw tightened and he gripped the armrests.
“Mrs. Gaines, that was completely un—”
Dakota touched Dexter’s shoulder, signaling that she could handle Mrs. Gaines herself. She appreciated his protective nature and that he’d been willing to go to bat for her, even though it wouldn’t be in the best interest of his relationship with Mrs. Gaines and the others. But she could certainly handle the grumpy older woman.
The woman’s accusation smarted. Mostly because it was true. She hadn’t valued the slow pace of life in their small town. In fact, a few months ago Dakota probably wouldn’t have considered it an insult that Mrs. Gaines regarded her as an outsider. At the time, she’d considered herself the quintessential New Yorker, and she’d been damn proud of it.
But being home for the past several weeks had reminded her exactly what made the island so special. The beautiful green space of Holly Grove Island Park. The quirky little festivals. The familiar shops on Main Street filled with people who’d known Dakota her entire life and genuinely cared about her well-being. The pristine beach with a lovely view of the ocean’s rolling waves. The calm of Fox Haven Sound on the other side of the island.
Dakota swallowed back her initial anger and opted for honesty.
“You’re right, Mrs. Gaines. I have been an outsider for a very long time. As a teenager, I felt I was missing out on so much because of our slow island lifestyle. And it’s true. There was a lot I was missing out on. I love the hustle and bustle of New York City. The culture. The nightlife. But in my work as a reporter, I got a front-row seat to the much uglier side of city living: the stress, the loneliness one often feels despite being surrounded by hordes of people. The traffic, the pollution, and dangers I’d never had to worry about when I lived in the safety of our friendly little town.”
Dakota’s eyes burned remembering how terrified she’d been when she’d thought something had happened to Sin. She cleared her throat, then continued.
“Being back home for the past several weeks has made me realize that not everything I was missing out on was something I truly wanted. Yes, Dexter, Nicholas, and I spent several years living in big cities across the country, but we never stopped being Holly Grove Islanders. And Nick and Dex have spent the past few years in Myrtle Beach, a stone’s throw away, waiting for an opportunity like this that would bring them back home. Close to the people they love and respect. To the beach we all adore. Do you really think any of us would knowingly do anything to hurt Holly Grove Island?”
Mrs. Gaines frowned, subtly shaking her head as she folded her arms and looked out the window to the beach.
Dakota took that as a small victory. Now they needed to convince the other two ringleaders: town historian Leland Gaston, who took his job far too seriously, and Dalton James, owner of several rental homes in town.
“Maybe you wouldn’t knowingly do anything to hurt the town.” Leland tapped the table with his index finger. “But not living here has skewed your thinking. We don’t want the commercialization of this island. We’re proud of our history and the island’s independence. We don’t want the kind of changes we’ve seen in Myrtle Beach and that they’re beginning to see in Pleasure Cove,” he said, referring to the state-of-the-art Pleasure Cove Resort, Holly Grove Island Resort’s direct competitor.
“I get that, Mr. Gaston.” Dakota kept her tone upbeat. Now wasn’t the time to point out that the man was overreacting about one little fight at the volleyball tournament hosted by the Pleasure Cove Resort. Or to argue that Pleasure Cove had seen countless benefits from the opening of the resort. “But the world is changing. Whether we like it or not. What we’re doing here is making gradual changes that will benefit everyone in the long run. This way we can control the narrative. Preserve the elements that make our little island town so special while ushering in changes that will benefit everyone.”
“And just how is it benefiting me?” Mr. Dalton asked. “My bookings are down since the resort started taking reservations.”
“Your rates are too high, for one thing,” Mrs. Gaines muttered.
The man shot her a look, but a few of the other people in the room nodded in agreement.
“Do any of your children live on the island, Mr. Dalton?” Dex asked. “Or yours, Mr. Gaston?” He walked toward the front of the room, his arms folded. “What about you, Mrs. Gaines?”
He shifted his gaze to each of them in turn.
“You know they don’t, Dexter.” Mrs. Gaines’s response was pained. “There aren’t any opportunities in her field for my Ella. Same as Leland’s and Dalton’s boys.”
“Exactly.” Dexter sighed. “I would’ve returned home the minute I graduated had there been an opportunity in my chosen field. And I’m sure it’s the same for many of the kids who grow up and leave the island. This resort and the resulting growth of the town will provide viable career opportunities for residents who might leave otherwise.”
“And not just the resort itself,” Nick jumped in. “There will be opportunities for other businesses here on the island as a result of the additional tourist traffic.”
“And as for you, Mr. James,” Dakota said. “Maybe you’ll have to lower your prices a bit to stay competitive—which I know you can afford to do. But that dip you’re experiencing is temporary. I can guarantee you that as the island becomes a more popular destination, you’ll make up that traffic, maybe even see it rise. The same thing has happened in Pleasure Cove.”
The man grunted, but Dakota could tell he was mulling the information over in his head.
With all of their objections quelled for the moment, they wrapped up the meeting. Mayor Newbury, the last to leave, approached the three of them.
“That went better than expected.” The man’s voice was low, as if he feared the others might hear him from out in the hall. “You should sponsor the town movie later this month. Bring goodies. Give this same talk. I think you just might win over a few more folks.”
“Great idea, Mayor Newbury. We’ll be in touch.” Dexter shook the man’s hand, then turned to the two of them once he was gone. “Good job, you two. And, Dakota, that heartfelt appeal you made was brilliant. It really turned the tide. Lunch is on me.”
“That isn’t necessary.” Dakota gathered her papers and shoved them into her portfolio, trying not to think about how good Dex smelled or how distractingly handsome he looked.
Dex seemed to peer straight through her with those dark, brooding eyes. “It would be a working lunch to strategize this impromptu meeting with the town.”
“Oh.” Dakota’s cheeks warmed. It’s just business, not a lunch date. “Then sure.”
“I’d love to join you two, but I have a late lunch scheduled with my group sales manager and a few sorority committee members. We’re hoping to host their next Founders Day event.” Nick zipped his messenger bag. “Dakota, take notes and you can bring me up to speed this afternoon.” He turned to Dexter. “We’re going to make one hell of an impression on the town at that talk, Dex. Don’t worry. We’ll make you look good.”
Nick was gone before Dakota could blink.
She turned to Dex a
nd forced a smile. “So…lunch.”
“Is Lila’s Café all right?” He stared at her for a moment, something unreadable in his expression. His eyes didn’t travel her body. They never left hers. And yet his stare made her feel naked. Vulnerable.
Since she’d returned to town, Dex had slowly been wearing away at her defenses. Reminding her of what a kind and thoughtful person he’d always been. Sparking fond memories of the companionship they’d once enjoyed. Dexter still exuded the same quiet strength she’d always admired and was fiercely protective of the people he cared about.
Since that night at the Foxhole, she couldn’t help thinking of everything that had happened that evening. The songs he’d played that meant so much to her. How he’d dropped everything to help find their friend. Dancing together on Sin’s balcony. And she’d found herself reminiscing over sweet moments they’d shared in the past. Memories that had been overwritten by the painful anomaly of the night he’d broken up with her.
Dakota nodded. “Lunch at Lila’s Café sounds perfect.”
“Great. I have to make a quick call, but I’ll meet you in the lobby in thirty minutes.”
Dexter pulled out his phone, and his long legs carried him from the room, leaving Dakota to admire the retreat of his broad back and firm bottom.
A shiver ran down her spine and her breath caught as she was suddenly struck by the memory of how enticing his lean, athletic body had looked without clothes.
Not helpful, Dakota. Not helpful at all.
She released a breathy sigh and pressed a hand to her heated forehead.
Her father would have his surgery in a couple of weeks, and she anticipated being on the island for only another few months. Surely she could show some restraint for that long.
But as warmth filled her face and electricity skittered down her spine, causing her to clench her thighs, it was increasingly harder to deny the truth. A part of her had hoped that Dexter would kiss her on that balcony. But despite the thoughtful compliments, the grand gesture of playing those songs for her at the Foxhole, and what seemed like flirtation, Dexter was only interested in repairing their friendship and burying any past hurt feelings.
Fine.
They were both better off that way. He was the resort’s director, after all. And she was in town to lick her wounds while she made plans for the rest of her life. The last thing she needed was to get tangled up with Dexter Roberts.
Her involvement with a seemingly sweet man was the very thing that had sabotaged her career. It was the reason she found herself at the bottom of the heap, broken and bleeding. Forced to claw her way back up.
Dakota inhaled a deep breath, shook off her unsettling attraction to Dexter, and headed toward her desk to wait until it was time to meet with him.
* * *
Dexter finished the last bite of his crab cake sandwich as Dakota made notes of all the ideas they’d discussed for sponsorship of the town’s outdoor film and their brief talk that Friday.
He’d been impressed with how Dakota had handled the meeting with Mayor Newbury and the three ringleaders of the growing resistance to the Holly Grove Island Resort. Dexter was usually pretty even-keeled during moments of high stress, when the tempers of those around him spiked. He could take anything those three hurled at him. But when Mrs. Gaines had gone after Dakota…he’d felt that far more personally than he might’ve about any accusation launched directly at him.
So…yes. He’d lost his cool momentarily. He’d been blinded by a temporary flash of anger, prepared to tell the older woman—whom he generally admired and respected—that her attack on Dakota was completely uncalled for and she needed to back off.
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t gone to bat for his employees before. He had on many occasions. He didn’t permit employees to be treated harshly by fellow employees or supervisors. Nor would he allow a customer to berate a hotel employee. Even if it meant losing a prestigious event or a wealthy client. But he made the decision logically, with a calm head and heart.
So why had he felt fire building in his chest and his muscles tensing when Cleta Gaines made that dig at Dakota earlier?
Because it was Dakota.
One of the three women in the world he would do just about anything for. His mother and sister being the other two. Even after all this time and distance between them, he still cared for her deeply. Ached for her. Both physically and emotionally. He had lain awake many nights, regretting how he’d handled the situation between them. Wishing he could claim a mulligan so he could go back in time and approach things differently. But the past was the past. Nothing he could say or do would change that.
He draped one arm across the back of the booth as he studied her. Dakota was beautiful in a simple sleeveless, knee-length floral dress that hugged the sweet curves of her hips. The V-neck showed the tiniest hint of cleavage and skimmed over her full breasts.
Dakota dragged her fingers through her shoulder-length hair and flipped it to one side so stray locks wouldn’t fall across her eyes as she leaned forward, scribbling on a pad.
“I know we covered a lot of ground, but it seems you’re writing a lot more than we discussed.” Dexter sipped his sweet tea.
“I’m creating a mind map.” She continued scribbling furiously. “The concepts we discussed earlier spurred some additional ideas for events at the resort.”
She put her pen down and looked up for a moment before grabbing her fork and diving into her shrimp and grits, which had likely gotten cold.
“Why don’t we have that reheated?” He nodded toward her bowl.
“I’d forgotten how good Ms. Lila’s shrimp and grits are,” she murmured, her eyes drifting shut.
The way her eyes fluttered closed and the sensual sound she made in appreciation of the meal sent a shudder down his spine. The visceral memory of how she’d done the same while lying beneath him on a smoldering summer night filled his head with the sweetest vision. A vision that had been running in his mind more nights than he cared to admit since their dance on Sin’s balcony. For a minute, he seriously thought he might lose it.
He adjusted his position in the booth and tried to think about things he hated. Cauliflower. Fake bacon. Skinny jeans. Centipedes. Anything but the gorgeous temptress sitting across the table from him innocently enjoying her meal, oblivious to how turned on he’d been all morning by sitting so close to her that he could smell her sweet perfume.
“Exactly. And a meal like that deserves to be enjoyed hot.” Dexter got the attention of the server and kindly asked if she wouldn’t mind reheating Dakota’s food, then turned back to her.
“You were incredible in that meeting today, Dakota. Not that I’m surprised. I recommended you for the position because I knew you’d be good at it. But you were exceptional—even-tempered, quick on your feet. I think your fresh storytelling perspective is exactly what we need to break through with folks who see the resort as a threat to Holly Grove Island’s way of life. You’re quite an asset to the team.”
“But a temporary one,” Dakota reminded him, drinking her tea. “Hopefully, by the time I leave, this won’t be an issue anymore.”
“Hopefully.” He tilted his head as he studied her. “Or maybe you’ll change your mind about leaving. After all, you made a pretty compelling case for life here on the island.”
“That was for their sakes. Not a declaration that I’ve suddenly changed my lifelong career aspirations.”
“I did,” he said. “And I’m much happier because of it. Besides, what you said to them in that meeting…it sounded sincere and deeply personal.”
“It was,” she admitted, gliding a finger down the condensation on her glass. “But you’re not being fair. Your career change wasn’t a voluntary one.” There was apology in her brown eyes. “I heard about the ACL injury. Sorry things didn’t work out as you’d hoped. I know how hard you worked to go pro as a football player.”
True. But the most disappointing thing to happen in his life hadn’t been the decima
tion of his pro football aspirations. That distinct honor went to losing her.
“I’ll let you in on a little secret.” Dexter leaned forward, his voice lowered. “Going pro wasn’t my dream. It was my dad’s. And other than my propensity for the saxophone, it was the only thing I did that really seemed to impress him.”
His father’s utter devastation over the premature end of his career flashed through Dexter’s brain. “He’d hoped to go pro when he was in college, and my mom wanted to be a doctor. When she got pregnant with me, they both dropped out. Suddenly they had a family, and neither of them ever attained their life dreams.”
“I know you don’t believe for one minute that your mother regrets having you.” She’d lowered her voice, too. Her expression was kind. “Your mother adores you. All of you. You must know that.”
“I do, and we’re lucky to have been born to such a loving, selfless woman.” Dex tapped the table with his thumb. “I just wish she’d been able to achieve what she wanted.”
“You feel guilty about your parents, don’t you?” Dakota tilted her head, assessing him.
“Doesn’t matter.” He thanked the server, who’d returned with Dakota’s steaming bowl of shrimp and grits.
“It does matter, Dex,” she said once the server was gone. “I know Ms. Marilyn wouldn’t want you to take on the responsibility for a choice she made—one I’m sure she doesn’t regret. Have you ever talked to your mother about how you feel?”
“No, and I don’t intend to.” Dex frowned. Any guilt he felt was his own issue, and he’d deal with it. He wouldn’t burden his mother with his feelings, especially not now that she was finally living her life on her own terms.
“Okay,” she conceded softly, sounding as if she regretted bringing it up. She lifted a forkful of the savory mélange to her lips, blowing on it to cool it.
He shut his eyes against the visual. Seriously, he needed to get his mind out of the gutter. But ever since their dance on the balcony beneath the stars as he sang to her and the lingering hug she’d given him, thoughts of Dakota Jones in his arms and in his bed kept filling his head.