by Nina Singh
He chuckled. “It’s okay. I won’t melt.”
Still, he grimaced as the rainfall intensified, accompanied by intermittent whipping winds.
“You could wait it out. I mean upstairs. With me.” Why was she on the verge of stuttering incoherently? She was a grown, mature woman, for Pete’s sake.
Clay merely quirked an eyebrow.
“Aren’t tropical storms usually intense but quick? I’m sure it will stop in no time,” she added. Tori wasn’t certain who she was trying to convince, herself or Clay.
He tapped her nose playfully. “You sure you’re not too tired? You were up at dawn baking cupcakes. And I’m guessing you have another early morning tomorrow.”
“I’m sure. Besides, I find I’m still thirsty.” She raised the wine bottle. “And we happen to have this perfectly good Sauvignon blanc.”
He smiled at her, the tension in his face having completely dissipated since their walk on the beach.
“That’s a tough invite to turn down.”
“Then don’t. Accept it. What do you say?”
“I say I’d be a fool to opt for making a mad dash across the resort in pouring rain and hailing wind, when the other option is to share a bottle of wine with a pretty woman in a nice, comfortable hotel room.”
* * *
The wise thing would have been to turn her down and just deal with the rain. He’d suffered worse things than a full drenching. Much worse.
But Tori’s invitation proved too hard to resist. The way her eyes sparkled in the moonlight, how her hair curled gently around her face with the raindrops. One of her dress straps had fallen from her shoulder, exposing tanned golden skin his fingers itched to touch. She’d bunched up one side of the skirt of her dress, exposing a shapely leg.
It was all so beckoning.
A stronger man would have had the resolve to walk away, Clay thought as he followed her up the stone stairway and waited while she unlocked her door.
Light flooded the room as she flipped the switch and welcomed him inside.
Outside, the wind had grown harsher, driving the pounding rain almost horizontally now. “Thank you for sparing me from that,” he said with gratitude, gesturing to the glass door of the balcony. Gentleman or not, he much preferred being indoors and relatively dry given what mother nature had on display at the moment.
“It’s the least I can do. You wouldn’t even be out this way if you hadn’t walked me back. Now, to find a corkscrew.” She walked over to the kitchenette where she began pulling open random drawers. All of which appeared empty.
“Here. I’ll look for it. I’m sure you want to freshen up.” After all, her dress had been partially soaked before the rain had even started.
“I think I’ll take you up on that. I do appear to be somewhat damp.”
As she headed to the adjacent bedroom, he took over the search for the opener. Locating it atop the mini fridge, he made quick work of removing the cork and poured the wine into two glasses.
Then he made his way to the sofa by the balcony and sat, watching the angry rain outside the window. The weather didn’t seem to have calmed at all. Settling in the rather uncomfortable sofa, he waited for Tori to return.
And waited.
After about fifteen minutes, he walked over to knock on her door. No answer.
“Tori, the wine is poured.”
Nothing.
Should he be concerned? “Can I come in?”
There was some sort of mumbled reply. He pushed the door slightly ajar and poked his head inside. The image he encountered made him smile. Tori was out cold, sprawled on top of her bed. One sandal lay at the foot of the bed, the other dangled from her other foot. She hadn’t even had a chance to take off the wet dress.
He knew she was wiped, but hadn’t realized it would catch up with her so fast.
“So tired,” she said through a muffled yawn when he reached the side of the bed.
“I know, sweetheart. I’m just going to lift you for a second to get you under the covers, okay?”
“’Kay.”
He did the best he could, wishing he could unburden her of the uncomfortable dress but unable to find a reasonable way to do so. When she was adequately tucked in, he switched off the light and gently shut the door behind him.
The wine bottle sat mostly full, the glasses untouched. Clay had zero interest in having any of it by himself.
He settled on the couch—half slouched, half sitting on the hard, scratchy cushions. Tori wouldn’t mind if he just waited out the storm here. Then he’d be on his way.
Only, when he next opened his eyes, the digital clock atop the television screen said two thirty. He jolted upright in the darkness. He’d been asleep on Tori’s couch until past two in the morning.
Through sleep-dazed grogginess, Clay realized the creaking of a door was what had awakened him.
“Clay?”
He heard Tori’s voice in the darkness. “I’m here. Hope I didn’t startle you. Didn’t mean to crash on your couch.”
“And I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.”
He chuckled. “You had a long day yesterday. I’m surprised you held out as long as you did.”
“You can’t be comfortable on that sofa.”
He wasn’t going to lie to her. His body felt like it’d been stretched atop a bed of sharp-edged boulders. His lower back was screaming at him.
“My fault for falling asleep. I’ll just head out.”
“It’s almost dawn. You should just stay here.”
“I don’t think my back can handle it, sweetheart.”
“I meant on the bed.”
He wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so he stayed silent, waiting for her to continue. The last thing either of them needed was a misinterpretation of intentions.
“You know, just to sleep,” she finally added.
Clay pondered the unexpected offer. His back really did hurt. And it looked dark and wet outside. He’d be a glutton for punishment if he turned her down.
He silently followed her into the bedroom and lay on the mattress as far as he could from the other side without toppling over. He could hear her breathe, feel her warmth. So he didn’t let himself move so much as a muscle.
A night-light illuminated the dresser across the room and he was amused to see the tattered stuffed rabbit that he’d noticed in her apartment back in Boston. So she traveled with it.
How utterly adorable.
“Who was it, then?” Tori asked, her voice thick with drowsiness. He wondered for a moment if she was talking in her sleep. Her next words clarified. “Your one invite to the wedding.”
He had to chuckle. He’d forgotten even mentioning that to her earlier this evening.
“Did you see the short, gray-haired woman with all the silver bracelets on her arm? I believe she was wearing a purple top.”
“Mmm-hmm. The one that looked like she could be everyone’s grandmother.”
That was the perfect way to describe Gladys Thurman. “She’s the one. She always wears at least a dozen silver bangles.”
“Who is she?”
“Financial and operations director for Our New Start. It’s a charity I run.”
“You run a charity?”
“Figured I should. At least for a while. Since I founded it. Heard of it?”
She nodded. “Vaguely. You provide resources and youth centers for kids in homeless shelters throughout metro Boston.”
“That’s the one.”
“You’re quite an impressive man, Mr. Ramos.”
Clay didn’t know what to say to that, so he changed the subject. “Gladys is exactly what I’d imagine a charity representative would look li...ike.” The last word came out on a rather large yawn.
Clay had a question of his own. “Tell me about this ex w
ho didn’t like you to dance,” he found himself asking. He hadn’t even realized he was going to bring up the subject.
He heard her sigh in the darkness. “It was more the way I danced. So he said, anyway. After he made a few too many comments, I became so self-conscious about it, I didn’t even bother going anymore. Not even with girlfriends when he wasn’t there.” She took a deep breath. “It was just as well. He didn’t really like hanging out with me when my girlfriends were around anyway.”
The more she told him about this ex of hers, the more Clay was reminded of someone from his own life.
Someone who had nearly destroyed it.
He wanted to ask her about him, to find out more, but her breathing had evened to a slow and steady rhythm. If she wasn’t already asleep, she certainly sounded close.
He’d learned so much about her tonight, but it would have to be enough for now. She was tired. And frankly, so was he. He found himself drifting off to sleep, as well.
All too soon, Tori’s alarm went off and they both jolted upright and scrambled to get ready for the day. He did his best to freshen up before Tori jumped in the shower.
He was going to need a cold shower himself when he finally got back to his room. Lying next to her for hours, resisting the urge to reach out and touch her, had been nearly unbearable. Now, images of her under the spray of water, soaping up her skin...
He had to give his head a hard shake to clear the picture. By the time he stepped out of the building, the morning had turned bright and sunny. The chirping of birds rang through the air. He could hear the gentle crashing waves of the ocean in the distance.
A pair of joggers turned the corner along the pathway.
One of them glanced his way and did a double-take. She nudged her partner’s arm until the man turned to look in his direction, as well.
Damn it.
The timing could not have been worse. His sister and Tom were early risers who liked to get a run in first thing in the morning.
The look of surprise on Gemma’s face told him he’d have some explaining to do.
CHAPTER SIX
“YOU SHOULD PROBABLY know that my sister and her fiancé almost certainly believe that we’ve slept together.”
Tori dropped the measuring cup full of sugar and swore at the mess that resulted on the previously pristine counter. A white cloud of powdered sugar hung in the air. She sneezed twice.
The batch of pie dough was ruined. She’d have to start all over again.
First things first, though.
“Come again?”
She couldn’t have heard Clay correctly.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.” He entered the kitchen and seemed to take stock of the mess he’d indirectly caused.
“What do you mean about your sister and Tom, exactly?”
He ducked his head with a sheepish set to his lips. “They saw me leaving your building.”
She cupped a hand to her mouth. Oh no.
“You know, at dawn. After we’d been hanging out together the whole night before. Dancing, having cocktails,” Clay added, as if she didn’t know all that. As if she could have forgotten somehow. As if the whole evening and all that had happened afterward wasn’t completely ingrained in her brain and would be for all time.
“Don’t worry,” he added, “I’ll set them straight.”
Somehow she didn’t feel reassured.
This meant word would get out that she was sleeping with the boss. How utterly mortifying. Not that she had anything to be embarrassed about. She was a grown adult, after all. But the tabloid websites were constantly looking for juicy pieces about Clay and all it would take would be one wedding guest to be indiscreet once they returned Stateside.
Not the kind of attention Tori wanted as a professional business owner. Not to mention all the questions that would arise from friends and family. Questions she so didn’t want to bother answering.
She would have to be so much more careful from now on. Should have never let her guard down in the first place.
But she’d already decided all that, hadn’t she? This morning in the shower when she’d thought of how unaffected Clay had been even though they were merely inches apart atop the same bed. She’d been longing for his touch and he hadn’t even so much as shifted near her.
Of course, he was solid and decent, the type of man who would never take advantage of circumstances. But he hadn’t even showed the least bit of interest. While she’d been burning inside, yearning for him to touch her.
He could have asked.
Though, if he had, she had no earthly idea how she might have actually responded.
He gently took her by the upper arm and turned her to face him. “Hey, you’re really upset about this, aren’t you?”
“I’ll be all right. Not upset so much as...”
“What?”
“I just feel embarrassed. I want Gemma and Tom to think of me as a professional.” More than that, she wanted Clay’s family to like her, to respect her.
And now they thought she’d slept with their brother after spending one evening with him at a party.
Heaven help her, she very well might have if he’d even showed the slightest interest. Clearly, she’d read more into what had been happening between them than reality merited.
“Don’t be embarrassed. I’ll talk to them first chance I get. Tell them nothing happened.”
“Thanks. I guess that’s all that can be done.”
“I tried calling Gemma, but didn’t get an answer. I’ll track her down.”
“I appreciate that. Do you think she may have mentioned it to anyone else?”
His expression told her she wasn’t going to like the answer to that question. “Almost certainly. My other sister.”
Adria, of course. It was going to be mortifying seeing either one of his sisters again.
Adria. Who would most likely then tell her husband. Who would then tell another guest, and so on and so on... It was like a mortifying game of phone tree.
Tori rubbed her forehead as a slight ache settled behind her eyes.
“I’m really sorry about this, Tori.”
“Don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Not even in the least. She should have simply retired to her room after the meal was over. What business had she had mingling with actual wedding guests? This was all her fault.
The only reason she was there was as an employee. How could she have forgotten that for even a moment? Simply because Gemma had been gracious enough to invite her to dinner.
“Thanks. I appreciate that. I’m sorry, too.”
His eyes narrowed on her. “I was the one who got caught sneaking out of your hotel room. What in the world are you apologizing for?”
“If I’ve caused you any awkwardness with your sister or if I’ve embarrassed you.” She knew she was overreacting—it wasn’t as if she’d committed some kind of crime—but couldn’t seem to help the sting of tears that suddenly burned behind her eyes. She couldn’t imagine the way Clay’s conversation with his sister might go.
He stepped closer to her. “Not this again. You said the same thing on the dance floor. It made no sense then, either.” Clay raised her chin with his finger. “Hey. You did no such thing. It’s just a silly misunderstanding and we’ll set it straight.”
“Thank you. I just don’t like being the subject of gossip.” Especially not with the type of crowd that was here at this wedding.
She’d been judged and found lacking often enough in the past.
* * *
Tori placed the tray of mini pastry crusts on the top rack of the oven and closed the door. She’d already whipped up the custard filling. The next step was to slice and glaze the tropical fruit that would serve as toppings on the tarts. But she couldn’t bring herself to get started just yet. Usually, that was th
e piece of the fruit tart process she enjoyed the most. The sweet aroma of the fruit, the relaxing, repetitive motion of slicing. But today her heart wasn’t in it. She needed a break.
This morning’s conversation with Clay kept replaying over and over again in her mind. She wasn’t looking forward to the next time she ran into the bride. Nor running into Clay again, for that matter.
She needed to vent, a shoulder to cry on. It would have to be a digital shoulder. Pulling out her cell phone, she clicked her sister’s contact icon, not even caring about the time of day. Eloise was running back and forth from Sydney to Boston so often, Tori wasn’t even sure where she might be at the moment. Her sister would have to forgive her for being awakened if that turned out to be the case.
“Tori!” Eloise immediately greeted, answering on the first ring. Simply hearing her voice had Tori’s nerves soothing over. “I’ve been wondering when you’d call.”
“Hey. Been meaning to. It’s just been a little busy.” And she’d been very preoccupied.
“So tell me, have you made your move on the hot architect yet?”
To her horror, Tori’s bottom lip started to quiver. She was just such a conflicted mess where Clay was concerned. And her sister’s comforting, familiar voice had served to flush all of it to the surface.
Eloise picked up on her distress. “What is it? Tell me.”
“Nothing. I’m fine.” But her voice was so shaky, Tori hardly sounded convincing.
Eloise’s voice grew firmer over the speaker. “Has that man done something to upset you? I can be on the next—”
“No! No, Eloise, he hasn’t done a thing.” That was part of the problem, wasn’t it? Clay hadn’t so much as kissed her, while she was a quivering mess of feelings whenever they were together. How could she even know if those feelings were entirely one-sided?
“Promise?” Eloise asked.
“Yes. Cross my heart.” Tori made an X motion over her heart, which made no sense. It wasn’t as if they could see each other.
“Then what is it, sis?”
Her twin’s gentle prodding seemed to open the floodgates.