PARADISE COVE (PARADISE SERIES Book 1)

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PARADISE COVE (PARADISE SERIES Book 1) Page 3

by Wilton, Patrice


  "I'm Taylor," the middle girl said, grabbing the pole out of his hands. "And fishing isn't allowed on the dock between four and six. Didn't you see the sign?"

  He whipped his head around and she giggled. "No? Well, maybe we have to make it bigger. Most everyone around here already knows the rules." She gave a careless shrug. "This isn't a late night place. But happy hour is not to be missed. Standard rule. You can't blame me."

  Brittany tugged his arm. "Come on. This is the most fun we get all day. We listen to our guests talking about themselves, and what a wonderful day they've spent on the reefs, or fishing. One of the men caught a small shark today. He's got pictures. Come see for yourself."

  "Ladies," he pulled out of their grasp. "I came down here for relaxation. Is that against the rules too?"

  Taylor answered, flashing a dimple similar to Kayla’s. "It's allowed during all hours of the day, excluding these two. Relax after happy hour. What else do you have to do?"

  He looked at both women with their laughing brown eyes, their matching grins, and shrugged. They were right. What else did he have to do? Besides, he owed Kayla an apology. Which might be easier to do after a drink.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Kayla watched her sisters drag poor Sean away from the pier. The girls were both gangly and gorgeous with their long, slim legs, short jean shorts, dark wavy hair half way down their backs. Brittany had a good three inches over Taylor, who stood five-feet-eight. Kayla might be an inch shorter than Taylor but she carried at least ten more pounds. She had curves, while the other girls had slim hips and tight abs that they both displayed.

  Taylor wore a plaid shirt tied under her small breasts, and Brit had changed from her pink Paradise Cottages top to a cropped tee. Her jean shorts rested on her slim hips. They both had their arms around Sean Flannigan, making sure he didn't escape.

  "Glad to see you made it," she called out, and rushed forward to grab the rod and tackle box from the girls. She carefully put them in a safe area where her guests, after a drink or two, wouldn't trip over them.

  "I didn't have much choice," Sean said with a dazed look on his face. "Your sisters are very persuasive."

  "Tell me about it!" She smiled at her siblings. "Good job, girls. Why don't you pour our guest a drink?" They nodded and left, and Sean watched them go with a bemused expression.

  It gave Kayla a moment to study him. She noticed how much younger he looked, with his face less anxious, the deep crevices around his mouth relaxed in a smile. So. He was handsome after all. Expecting to be fishing, he was in khaki cargo shorts and a white tee hanging loose, as if he’d recently lost weight. Perhaps he'd lost all his money, and only had his boat. It was a decent size, but not large enough to live in. That might be his problem. Lost his job. Halfway homeless.

  Naw. He was paying the marina to keep his boat, and had enough money for three month’s rent. Money wasn't an issue.

  "Are you hungry?" she asked. "We have plenty to eat. Taylor loves to cook and she made spinach and feta tarts, crab stuffed pitas, and a plate with olives, cheese, cucumbers and tomatoes. Can I get you something?"

  He looked at her and seemed to see her for the first time. His eyes flickered with interest as they roamed over her face and stopped at her mouth. "I wanted to apologize to you. I was very rude today."

  "That's all right." She smiled and he smiled back. It was only a moment, but she saw a warmth in his eyes, an awareness that hadn't been there before.

  "No, it's not. I'm sorry. I'm just not good company these days."

  "Then you came to the right place." She said it lightly, wanting to let him know that at Paradise Cove worries were left behind.

  "Did I?" His eyes connected with hers, and she felt her heart stutter. Her pulse began to race. Perspiration slid down her throat and she swiped it away with the back of her hand, wondering why he was staring at her, and why it made her so hot. She glanced away and fanned her flushed face. "The heat is crazy here in the summer. Don't think I'll ever get used to it."

  He started to say something, just as Brittany appeared with the drinks. She handed him one, and toasted him with her own. "Cheers. So glad you found your way to Paradise Cove. We don't get single men here very often."

  "Thanks, Brittany," he said, ignoring the single men comment. He sipped his drink. "Not bad."

  "Mama makes the best drinks. And Taylor the best food. Me?" Brittany grinned and bumped his shoulder. "I make people happy."

  Sean glanced at Kayla and she saw his lips twitch.

  "That's a gift," he said, his gaze sliding down to Brittany's abs.

  Kayla took a step back, knowing she was leaving Sean in good hands. Brittany did make people happy. She had amused him already.

  Swallowing the pang of disappointment she was surprised to feel, Kayla decided to mingle. "I'll see to the guests. Be sure to try some of Taylor's dishes," she told Sean. "It beats cooking."

  Refreshing her drink, Kayla let the mango flavor linger in her mouth before sliding down her throat. She still felt uncomfortably warm and more than a little deflated. What in the world had gotten into her? She didn't care if her sister took Sean under her wings. Keeping the customers happy was important. And Brit could certainly do that. Especially single, attractive, male customers.

  She took another sip and then brushed her long hair off her shoulders. Leaning against the rectangle plastic table—their makeshift bar—she watched the dozen people enjoying the late afternoon cocktail party. She tugged at the top of her yellow sundress, which dipped a little too low for her comfort zone. In Philly, she'd worn a tank beneath it, but it was much too hot down in the Keys for extra layers.

  Yellow was a happy color and the flowered dress looked good against her olive skin and dark hair. Just because her sisters were sexy and cute in their short-shorts, didn't mean she needed to copy their style. At thirty-one, she had to cover a few dimples in her thighs, and show a more mature appearance to the world. Not for one moment did she feel jealousy toward either of her sisters. She loved them totally and wanted only the best for them.

  She smiled as she watched Brittany flirting with Sean. Obviously she had ignored her remark to tread carefully and not come on too heavily to the poor guy. If anything, her remark may have been the instigator that sparked Brit's attraction.

  Or it could be the man himself. Even dressed in clothes meant for fishing, he was the best looking man around. Not that there were many to compare.

  The young man on his honeymoon was a friendly, overweight fellow who couldn't keep his hands off his sweet chubby wife. They were adorable, and one day Kayla hoped she'd meet a man who loved her that much.

  The family from Ohio were laid-back mid-westerners. The husband wore a pair of jeans and a gray T-shirt, had a gut and was losing his hair. His wife had a ponytail, no make-up and baggy shorts. The two boys played happily in the pool, tossing a ball around, splashing anyone who got too close.

  It would be fun to have a family like that, she thought. Eventually, but not now. There was too much to do. Like turning this venture into a profitable business. Being the eldest daughter—and the most responsible adult in their household—she needed to make sure that her mother and sisters would not struggle financially.

  They had a small trust fund, but not enough to get by on. Her mother had relied on her husbands and accountants to take care of the finances, and not taken an active role. When her step-dad passed away, Kayla had been amazed at how little her mother knew about financial matters.

  So, Kayla had secured a small bank loan to invest in the resort, making this year critical as to whether or not they’d hold on to the property or be forced to sell.

  Taylor sauntered over, a tray upraised in her hand. "Here. Try one of my crab stuffed pitas. They're going fast."

  "Thanks, Taylor." Kayla grabbed a small paper plate and slid the pita from the serving platter onto it. "I don't know how you manage to come up with these tasty treats, but I'm sure glad you do."

  "I didn't go to cu
linary school for nothing."

  "True." She knew that Taylor had sidelined her own ambitions to come here and help her and her mom with the cottages. They could have sold it, but it meant a lot to their mom, and Allan's memory, that they didn't. "This doesn't mean you need to give up your dream forever. Just a year, and then we’ll decide as a family what to do."

  "I understand. I can't go into the restaurant business right now, anyway. Need to make some money first, and living here together as we do, hopefully we all should be able to save." She laughed. "Not a lot to spend money on and we're basically living for free."

  "We're working our butts off for our rent, and only drawing a minimal salary, but that won’t be forever either." Kayla glanced down at her hands, no longer soft and manicured. "Never done so much grunt work in my life."

  "I hate scrubbing toilets. Doing the daily laundry, making beds, mopping floors, that's enough drudge work for me. I know we all pitch in, and I'm not complaining." Taylor’s pink lips turned up into a self-mocking smile. "Exactly."

  "During season, we'll be able to hire a full-time cleaning service if we get enough business. All this is temporary." Kayla grimaced. "I hope."

  "Me too, but on a positive note there is something really stress-free about life down here. Back in New Jersey I was traveling to and from New York, which added two hours to my day. The city was exciting, but the crowds and noise got to me after awhile. I guess I'm just not a New Yorker."

  "Why do you say that? You were born and bred." Kayla had never heard her sister talk like this before. She’d just assumed that Taylor was happy. Kind of like she’d done with Brittany. She slipped one arm around her sister’s waist and squeezed, grateful for the chance to get to know her better.

  "It was too much for me. I craved quiet, but living smack dab in lower Manhattan, alone time was not going to happen. Come Saturday, I didn't want to leave my couch." She tossed her hair over her shoulders. "My boyfriend always wanted to go out. For dinner. Dancing. To the movies or a hockey game. I just wanted to stay home, cook a nice dinner, and put something on the telly."

  "You're an old soul," Kayla said with a laugh. She bit into her pita, and wiped the delicious crab off her bottom lip. "Good heavens. This is fabulous. Don't feed anymore to our guests. We might want this for dinner."

  "I have another tray for us back home." She looked over at Brittany and Sean. "I'm going to entice him."

  Kayla's stomach dropped. "Step in line. Looks like Brit got first dibs."

  "That wasn't what I meant, but he is the only available man around. Hey! Wait a sec. What's that?" She got nose-to nose with Kayla. "Do I see a little green in your eyes?"

  "Of course you do. My eyes are hazel, not a rich chocolate like yours,” Kayla said, blinking quickly as she sidled away from Taylor’s gaze. “But if you're insinuating that I'm jealous of my sister—no way! I hope she can bring a little happiness into his life."

  "Maybe she already has. He looks like he's enjoying himself."

  "I'm not so sure about that. I feel like he's hiding something, or running away. From what, I don't know."

  "You're either very perceptive, or have an active imagination." Taylor shifted so she and Kayla stood side by side as they discreetly watched Brittany and Sean.

  "Well, as long as he isn't doing anything illegal with that boat of his, he's welcome to stay and romance Brit all he likes." Kayla deliberately pushed her unwelcome feelings deep inside of her. She wasn't interested in this new guest. Heck—why would she be? So far, he'd been less than charming. Even after the apology, he hadn't wasted another minute on her.

  "Illegal? What do you mean?" Taylor’s big brown eyes widened with concern.

  "Drugs or human trafficking. Don't look so shocked. It happens a lot in these waters. He paid three months ahead, in cash. For our best cabin, closest to the water. And he lived on his boat for a month, so he must not be working." Sharing her darkest thoughts about Sean Flannigan made her feel squirmy. She didn't really believe he was capable of either.

  “No.” The tray in Taylor’s hands slipped a little as she looked from Kayla to Sean. "Is that even possible?"

  "Yes, but doubtful,” she admitted, wishing she hadn’t upset Taylor. “I don't think that's his secret. My guess it that he's hurting, deep down. The way I did when Dad died."

  "You kind of went off the deep end, if I remember properly."

  "You do. It's true." Kayla raised her chin. "I wasn’t very nice to you guys, either. Just trying to get beyond the pain, you know? I’m sorry for that. But I survived, and now I'm better than ever.”

  "Yes, you are. And don't you forget it!” She bumped her hip into Kayla’s. “I’m going to get to know our mysterious guest better before we let him flirt anymore with Brit." She gave Kayla a warm smile, and then strode toward the duo.

  Kayla watched as Sean greeted Taylor, accepting a pita from the tray. Then he turned in her direction and caught her eye. Her stomach jumped. Even though she stood across the pool she felt a jolt of sexual energy, like some inexperienced teenager. Her skin warmed and a tingling sensation skimmed over her.

  What in the hell just happened? Had he felt it too, or was it only her hormones that were in trouble?

  ***

  Sean half-listened to Brittany's prattle, careful to keep a polite smile on his face as he cautiously checked out the sexy sister in her pretty yellow dress. He'd known she was attractive, all three girls were, but unlike her sisters Kayla downplayed her looks. When working in the yard, she wore a Nike cap with her long hair pulled into a ponytail.

  She'd been hot and sweaty from yard work when she welcomed him this morning. He'd hardly glanced at her, but when he did he noticed a trail of perspiration sliding down her throat, trailing under the V-neck of her turquoise tee, and his eyes had followed. He'd been shocked when his body responded. It had been a hellova long time since he'd been turned on—and by a beautiful stranger?

  When he showered this afternoon, his thoughts had returned to her, imaging what lie beneath that skimpy tee, the size and shape of her luscious breasts, and how good they'd feel in his hands. With those images floating in his mind, he'd had a hard time looking her in the face tonight. It wasn't her fault that he had lusty thoughts. Thoughts he had no desire to act upon. After all, she was a cheerful, confident woman whose only interest in him was as a paying guest.

  As a cardiac surgeon, he'd once walked down the hospital wards like some kind of god. But an unkind fate had humbled him. Now it was all he could do to get out of bed in the morning, put one foot ahead of the other.

  He hadn't made love to a woman in more than eighteen months. He and his wife had rarely touched each other after their daughter became dangerously ill. And whatever they’d shared during that long painful time had not been passion, but a coming together in sorrow.

  He didn't want for female companionship—it was the furthest thing from his mind. All he wanted was peace, to quiet the rage inside his head, to sleep for a few hours each night, and not remember that his little girl Sara was dead the instant he woke.

  Now tonight, glancing toward Kayla as she sipped on her drink and talked with guests, he felt his body surge with need. He had no idea if she felt any attraction for him whatsoever, but he did hope she might rescue him from Brittany's unsolicited attention.

  He wanted to watch her mouth as she spoke, hear the sound of her laughter, and see the music in her eyes. For one hour—one day—Sean wanted to feel alive again.

  Their eyes collided across the pool. Her face brightened, while her body turned stiff—as if she’d been struck by the same bolt of energy raging through his veins, hot and supercharged.

  He turned away so abruptly that he bumped the tray in Taylor's hands. Pitas flew in the air, giving him a chance to catch his breath and to get his emotions under control. Kneeling down, he gathered up the mess he'd created and dropped the savory snacks into the nearest bin.

  It was the perfect chance to escape. He said a quick good-bye to Taylor an
d Brittany, not looking back at Kayla as he headed toward his cabin carrying his fishing pole and tackle box.

  He'd have liked an hour or two on the pier, tossing a line in and watching the fish bite. It was a seductive past time, calming, relaxing, something he'd never been able to enjoy earlier in his life. There had always been something to do. Now that's all he had—time on his hands, without a care in the world, and no one to care about him.

  When he reached his cabin, he grabbed the boat keys and packed the rotisserie chicken, potato salad, and a couple cans of beer into a gym bag, tossing it over his shoulder. He'd take Sara out for a few hours. The sun was setting and the water beckoned to him. He might stay all night, just drifting wherever the tide took him. Away from Paradise Cove.

  One thing for sure—he needed to avoid confusing loneliness with desire. A woman like Kayla sure in hell deserved someone better than him.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Kayla watched Sean leave the poolside and felt her shoulders drop with relief. Whatever or whoever this man was, he made her tense and on edge. She was no stranger to sparks flying between couples, and had experienced it herself on numerous occasions and with different men. This was something else. More intense, more visceral. It had sizzled and seared, making every cell in her body jump up and take notice.

  She didn't like that. Not one bit.

  It had taken her a few weeks to settle into the slower pace of the Keys and realize that this was what she'd been missing. There was something soothing about the resort on the water, which gave a feeling of safety that she hadn't known since her father died. Laid back, touristy, relaxed—a far cry from the bustling, noisy, fast-pace of the city.

  What had happened in New York changed her on the inside from trusting to guarded. Even Philly had felt too big as she wondered when and where the next terrorist attack might come from. A movie theater, a shopping mall, a public school. Or the person walking behind her on the street.

 

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