Waiting for Josef to arrive this morning had left Cullen feeling anxious. He wasn’t entirely sure if it was because of kissing Leona, or because he wasn’t sure what the kid had heard him say the day before. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought it through, why he’d had to confront her right then. What if it had been true? Even though in the moment he really was expecting her to confirm it, he wasn’t ready to deal with all the fallout of Josef’s reaction to it. Would he even have wanted the kid to know? As the rest of the group had started to arrive, he had noticed Josef wasn’t actually one of the first ones today. It made him worry slightly that Leona had said something to him, and he didn’t want to come back, or that she had put a stop to him coming to camp. But then he had bounded out of an older model Toyota Camry and onto the pitch like nothing was wrong, ready and willing to do whatever was asked of him.
Standing up, Cullen slid his phone into his back pocket and grabbed the empty beer bottle to head inside. He wasn’t getting anywhere sitting here letting his thoughts overwhelm him, and frankly, he was starving. Sliding the glass door open, he stepped inside to find Leona coming out of the bathroom, dirty towels in hand.
He flashed back to the last time they were in this situation. The most asshole-ish moment of his life. Scratch that—it was now the second most asshole-ish moment of his life. That moment had just been displaced by accusing Leona of secretly having his baby. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw him, glaring at him as if she wished she could bore holes into his skull.
This must be what they mean by “if looks could kill,” he thought.
This was hell.
If Leona had ever thought she could imagine just what everlasting damnation would bring, this would be it. Being face to face with Cullen Cruz in his hotel suite, holding towels. What had she ever done in life to deserve this fate?
Despite her best efforts to get a moment with Vaughn Quinlan today, it just hadn’t happened. Every time she thought she had an in, one of them would get a phone call or a text that required immediate attention. There hadn’t been a day at the Indigo Royal that required so much attention in years. Just when she thought everything was finally under control, and she’d found him sitting in his office alone and not on the phone, both their phones went off with a 222 emergency code.
The emergency code system was something that the Quinlans had created when the resort was first opened and before cell phones were in use. At the time, every department manager and a few other key staff were required to carry around a pager so they could be contacted no matter where they were on the grounds. These pagers were also used to alert them to any kind of emergency on the property, since they all agreed that, while they had a loudspeaker, making an announcement might not always be the best idea. So the brothers had created codes for every type of crisis they could think of, and those were what was sent to the pagers when needed. Even though the pagers were long gone, and everyone on staff had a cell phone, the codes were still texted out any time it was necessary. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.
A 222 emergency code wasn’t a life or death situation—they used the standard American 911 for that—but it was still an all hands on deck call. One never knew what they were going to find on arrival after a 222 call, and today’s was no different.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” she muttered to herself as she arrived at the pool.
A large crowd was gathered around the side of the hot tub, surrounding a drunk twenty-something whose swim trunks were partially pulled down as he’d awkwardly crouched over the drain. Apparently somehow the young man and his buddies, who were also drunk and still in the hot tub, had gotten into a literal dick measuring contest, trying to see how many of them, if any, were bigger than the small-ish circular drain hole next to the filter. This guy had lost—won?—the dare, and was now stuck.
“Uncle Vaughn, I need to talk to you at some point today,” she said, grabbing his arm as he had dialed the paramedics.
“Sure, let’s just get this situation cleared, then I’m all yours.”
It took almost a half hour, but they’d finally cleared the crowd and closed the pool. After another fifteen minutes, and quite the debate among the managers about who the job of helping free the guy actually fell to, they’d finally worked him loose and sent him off to the local ER to be checked out.
When the ambulance took off, Leona looked at her watch, disappointed to see how late it had gotten. At this point she had no choice but to forgo her conversation with Vaughn and try again tomorrow. La Isla Bonita required attention, and it was already much, much later in the day than it should have been considering the importance of the guest staying in said villa. It was just a task she had been hoping to pass off. However, apparently today was not her lucky day.
Now, she was standing here face-to-face with him all over again. Their interaction last night hadn’t exactly gone as planned and she didn’t know who she was angrier at about that little fact, Cruz or herself. Without question, he took advantage of the moment, scooping her up like that and kissing her. However, not only had she not fought him off, she had kissed him back, even if only for a brief moment. Thank heavens it appeared as if no one saw anything. She hadn’t wanted to field questions from anyone today on top of dealing with the fact that her feelings about the event were all over the place.
She’d be lying if she told herself that the kiss hadn’t lived up to all the memories in her head. There was no denying that Cullen Cruz was an incredible kisser, both then and now. If anything, the man might have actually gotten better over the years. That kiss lit her up inside. She wanted more, so much more. In that moment she’d had to fight off the urge to wrap her legs around him and grind against his center, to lean her head back so he could kiss his way down her neck before ripping off her shirt and feasting on her breasts. If anyone else had kissed her like that, she would have found herself in the towel hut with him in about five seconds flat, ripping each other’s clothes off. But no, it wasn’t anyone else. It was Cullen Cruz. And she hated that he made her feel that way. A way no one else had ever come close to making her feel.
Pulling her professional face together, she smiled at him like nothing was wrong. “There are fresh towels for you, Mr. Cruz. And I have made sure that all your toiletries have been topped off. Including your bubble bath.”
He just stood there, looking her up and down. She wished he would say something, even if it was just to tell her to pound sand. This awkward silence was deafening, and it was making her even more uncomfortable.
“If there is nothing else,” she finally said, breaking the silence, turning to go.
“Menina,” he responded softly, just above a whisper.
Hearing his pet name for her, she turned around sharply, dropping the used towels in the process.
“Why do you call me that?” she spat. “I know what it means, you know. And I know it’s not flattering. So why do you feel the need to insult me?”
“It’s what you are—you are a little female,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Oh, so if we’re simply stating facts, I could just refer to you as ‘ogre’?”
“Except that’s not what you really think of me,” he said, smirking. He walked slowly toward her, holding her in place with his gaze.
“You think you know what I think of you, huh?” She put her hands on her hips, trying to look tough. She felt anything but tough in this moment, his gaze penetrating her like he saw straight into her mind.
“What I know is how you kissed me last night. That was not the kiss of someone who thinks of me as an ogre.” His smirk became a sly, charming grin, and he winked just to get his point across.
“Don’t you dare think for one moment that you know me because you kissed me. And don’t you dare think that just because you kissed me that things are okay between us, because they most certainly are not!” She pointed at him and stomped her foot in emphasis but was afraid she looked more like a temperamental pony than the confident i
n-charge woman she wanted to be.
“Leona,” he said, his tone turning from charming to pleading.
“Oh, so now it’s Leona!” she exclaimed.
“Leona,” he repeated. “I’m sorry—”
She cut him off. “Sorry for what exactly? Sorry for pulling out your wallet and trying to pay me off like a hooker? Or for abusing your power all these years and treating me like your personal maid? For accusing me of harboring our secret love child? Or for getting handsy last night with that kiss?”
“It was a pretty great kiss,” he commented.
“So happy you think so,” she snarked. Picking up the towels, she glared at him. “Listen, Cruz, I get it, you’re a fucking rockstar. Everyone loves you and thinks you walk on water, including my little brother. But you know what? I see you. I see that deep down, you’re just another jackass who happens to be able to kick a ball. I’m happy for you. But I’d be even happier if you just left me alone!”
Turning quickly, she grabbed the door handle, threw open the front door and marched out of the villa. Just before the door slammed shut she shouted, “And stop calling me Menina!”
Chapter Nine
Leona was sure that at any moment, Vaughn was going to show up in her office and tell her she was fired. That Cruz had complained about her outburst and demanded her job. Every time someone walked by her office door, she braced herself for the door to swing open and for her boss to charge right in. With any other employee he’d be the picture of professionalism, calling them to his office, having a witness, explaining to them all the reasons this was happening. But Leona was different. They’d always had a different relationship, and while she knew that didn’t make her immune to losing her job, she also knew that she wouldn’t get the “nice boss” version either. She’d get the angry, “I’m so disappointed in you” version.
All this anticipation was making it kind of hard to concentrate on the paperwork before her. No matter how hard she tried, the words on the maintenance forms were starting to blur together. At least it was distracting her from thinking about how good Cullen’s lips felt against hers, and about how feeling his tongue caress hers made her want his tongue to caress other places too.
“Fuck this,” she said out loud, shoving the maintenance forms aside. “I got shit to do.”
She grabbed the list of room numbers she had pulled the day before for room checks. Suddenly her door opened, causing her to jump a little. She looked up expecting to see Vaughn, but instead found the sweet smile of Maeve Patterson, Drea’s new assistant manager for Cherish Spa.
“Sorry to bother you,” the tall, willowy brunette said. Maeve was absolutely beautiful, and Leona couldn’t help but think the girl could be a model every time she saw her. If it hadn’t been for the fact that she came off kind of quiet and timid Leona would have been intimidated by her based on looks alone.
“Not a problem. Happy distraction actually.”
“Oh, okay,” she said, stepping into the office. “Drea said the new special-order towels for the spa arrived this past week and was wondering if they had been through the laundry yet. She said you would know.”
“I’ll have to check with India. I know she got them, but I have no idea where they fell in her process. I can check in with her when I get back from room checks.”
“Room checks?” Maeve asked. She’d been at the Indigo Royal for just over three weeks and was still learning all there was to know. Drea said she was catching on quickly though, so Leona was happy to impart her knowledge.
“Yeah, I’m required to randomly check twelve rooms a week to make sure that they are being maintained to the standards of the resort. All rooms, occupied or vacant, are supposed to be cleaned, toiletries refilled or replaced, etcetera,” Leona explained. It was a part of the job that she had never loved. Secret shopping her staff felt like she was micromanaging them, even though all the housekeepers who worked for her knew it was done. It was not a new practice. Beverly had done it for years before Leona took over the job, but it still felt wrong. She trusted each member of her team, and she hated the idea that any of them might even feel for a second that she was trying to catch them doing something wrong.
“Gotcha. Well, just let me know when you can,” Maeve answered, turning to go.
Following Maeve out of the office, Leona made her way to the third floor of Black Velvet and knocked on the door for suite 1426. Even though the little light indicator above the door wasn’t lit, she’d learned over the years that the little LED didn’t mean much, especially during the day. Guests frequently forgot to slip their keycard into the holder that operated the electricity in the rooms, especially during the day when they had the natural light flowing in.
“Housekeeping!” she called out, just to be sure. She wasn’t going to risk walking in on something she didn’t need to try to unsee.
Once she was fairly confident the room was currently unoccupied, she let herself in. More than a little relieved to find that the room was not only currently vacant, but also didn’t have anyone staying in it at all this week, she relaxed a bit. The room seemed to be in perfect shape from what she could tell by glancing around. The couch was made up properly. The phone, remote, information binder, and ice bucket were all lined up how they were supposed to be. Both bedrooms showed beds made to standard, with the curtains wide open to let the light in. Taking a peek into the bathroom, she found a clean sink, tub, and toilet, as well as freshly stocked amenities on the counter.
Making her way back into the living room of the suite, she slumped down on the couch. Just as she was starting to close her eyes and take a deep breath, there was a heavy knock on the door at the same time as it opened, startling her. She leapt up off the couch, trying to make it look like she hadn’t been slacking at her job. Turning to fluff the throw pillows she had squished down when she sat, she heard a friendly familiar voice come from behind her.
“Hey there, mamacita,” Carlos’s voice called out. She felt his hand slide up her backside before his arms encircled her waist and pulled her close. Standing up, she felt him lean down and nibble the back of her right earlobe lightly, seductively whispering, “I’ve been looking for you.”
“Hi,” she said, turning in his arms and pulling back a bit so now his hands rested on her hips. “What are you doing here?” Damn, he’s sexy, she thought to herself, equally relieved and caught off guard by seeing him.
Carlos Rivera was a walking, talking desperate housewife fantasy. Standing just over six feet tall, with broad shoulders that tapered slightly into seriously strong hips and legs, his dark wavy hair and deep chocolate-brown eyes sealed the deal on the whole “Latin lover” vibe he threw off. Pair all that with the coveralls that he usually wore tied around his waist, showing off his sleeveless undershirt and all the muscles that protruded from it, and it wasn’t hard to understand why so many of the women who visited the resort stopped in their tracks when he walked by. It was like he had stepped right out of a dirty movie, ready and willing to “fix” whatever might have been broken. It was no wonder that he’d been on the receiving end of quite a few indecent proposals from various women—and a handful of men—over the years.
“I was fixing the drain next door and heard you call out as you entered this one. I called up Julie at the front desk and asked her if this room was occupied, and when she said it wasn’t I thought I might surprise you.” He pulled her in close again, leaning in for a kiss. When his lips met hers, she couldn’t help but immediately think of how rough they felt, not at all lush like Cullen’s. The thought jolted her, and she pulled away quickly.
“What’s the matter?” Carlos asked, looking concerned.
“Nothing, it’s just we’re both on duty,” she answered quickly, trying to come up with a feasible excuse.
“Never stopped us before,” he said, looking at her like she was his next meal and stepping toward her again. He pulled her close, palming her ass the way he knew she liked, and leaned in for another kiss. Before their lip
s could connect, she put her hands flat on his chest and lightly pushed him away.
“Yeah, but not today, okay?”
“Everything okay?” he asked. “You never ignore my light bulb requests and you’ve ignored the last three. Unless…do I need to go get the Twix bars?”
She smiled to herself. The guy knew her secret PMS cravings and had no qualms about supplying them when needed. He really was good to her. Wait, did he say…
“Three? You sent one the other day and I replied the next morning apologizing. I was picking up Josef and couldn’t respond.”
“Three. That one, one at the bonfire, and another last night.” His voice had turned slightly accusatory.
“Last night?” she repeated, confused. Oh shit, had he sent her one during the bonfire? It wasn’t unusual for them to sneak away during that time for a quickie. She should have thought about that. And last night? What had happened yesterday that would have—oh, that’s right, she had bitched out Cruz. God, her mind had been so focused on him that she’d let everything else just fall off her radar.
“I’m sorry. I just have a lot on my mind this week,” she fibbed. It wasn’t a complete lie. She did have a lot on her mind. A lot of Cullen Cruz.
“So, you’re not sneaking off with Cullen Cruz for late-night trysts and therefore don’t need me anymore?” His voice was teasing, as was the look on his face, but she felt the words like each one was a shot to the face.
Poor Carlos, if he only knew the half of it. He was such a sweet guy and she didn’t want him to get hurt. They’d both started at the Indigo Royal at about the same time and had become pretty fast friends, each relying on the other for miscellaneous needs as they learned the ropes. He was easily the best maintenance tech they had, and he was a shoo-in for the head of the department once Roy, the current manager, retired in a few years.
When they’d started what she referred to in her head as “the light bulb project,” they agreed it was just sex. Good sex, but still just sex. The agreement had served them both well over the last couple of years and she had no interest in complicating that with emotions. He’d been all in when she had made the suggestion of a friends with benefits arrangement, and never once complained when she reminded him that it would never be more—even if he did get a little boyfriend-y at times with some of the things he did for her, like supplying her with her favorite PMS snacks. But no matter how wonderful and sweet he was, no part of her was interested in more than a fun, physical release. And he really was smoking hot, he just wasn’t that stupid footballer.
Caught Up In You (Indigo Royal Resort Book 2) Page 8