Kayla laughed at the joke and nodded. "I hope so. You need to eat and build your strength." She put the grilled ham and cheese sandwich on the coffee table, along with a container of fruit salad and a bottle of water.
Taking a seat next to her, Kayla asked, "Did you have an easy birth with Raul?"
She shook her head no. "I was scared. Miguel was at work. He didn't know. I was early—two weeks! My neighbor heard my cries." Juanita smiled, "She delivered Raul."
Kayla handed Juanita her sandwich and a napkin, and patted her shoulder. "Raul is a wonderful boy. He's been working so hard the past few days. You should be very proud of him."
"I am. He's very happy. Gracias."
"We’re so glad that Sean found you and brought you to us.” Kayla decided to bring up the subject of a paycheck, taking the chance that her mom was right and Juanita would be more practical than her husband. “We want to help your family. Miguel won't accept any money for his work, but when you leave for your cousin’s house I'm going to give you a packet with cash, dollars, in it.. This is his pay. And Raul's. They've earned it, and it will help you get started with your new lives."
Juanita chewed her sandwich and looked out the window, not saying anything for several minutes. When she turned back, tears filled her eyes and she nodded with understanding. "You are too good."
Kayla stayed with Juanita while she ate her lunch, chatting about baby names. It amazed her how well they managed to communicate in spite of the language barrier. Watching television probably helped too. When a popular game show came on, Juanita clapped her hands with excitement. Kayla gathered up the plates and tray, then bent to kiss her forehead. "Rest. I'll see you later."
Juanita nodded and gave a cheerful wave, her eyes lit with pleasure as she watched the old twenty-six inch TV. The cottages were comfortable and clean, but the furniture was at least ten years old—and would be replaced in time.
Kayla was torn between paying bills and doing some future marketing, or checking on the men. It took her about five seconds to decide—Miguel would want to know how his wife was faring. After all, the poor woman was bed-ridden and had nearly lost their baby. Besides she hadn't been to see them in at least two hours.
When she arrived the three of them were on a break, eating sandwiches in the air conditioned cabin where she had stashed some food. "Hey guys. Juanita ate all of her lunch and when I left she was laughing over a TV show." Each day the woman was stronger. Healthier.
Raul glanced at his father. "Can I go watch TV too?" His face was dirty, his tiny shoulders slumped. "My arms hurt."
Miguel didn't answer, just took a big bite from his sandwich. Kayla could see he wasn't pleased.
"It's so hot in the afternoon, I think everyone should take a break," Kayla said carefully, not wanting to get between Miguel and his son, but wanting to protect the boy too. "We don't have to finish it all in one day." She sat down to join them and helped herself to an apple.
"Have to finish," Miguel said, looking at their faces. "One cabin a day. I can do it myself. No problem. Before the baby comes, all cabins need painting."
"There's no rush," Kayla assured him. "Juanita might not have the baby for another six weeks."
"The baby will come soon," he said with conviction. "I know. Her babies don't wait nine months."
Sean spoke to Miguel. "You never can tell, but it's good to be prepared." He drank from his bottled water, wiped his mouth, and glanced from Raul back to his father. "Let the boy go. He's worked a long day for a kid his age. You finish up the walls, and I'll get the trim done before nightfall."
Miguel didn't say anything, and Kayla nodded to Raul. "Off you go. I don't have anything pressing that I need to do. My turn to lend a hand."
Sean opened his mouth to object, but she put a hand on his sunburned leg, hoping to silence him. "I can paint trim too. It's not men's work, you know."
Raul got up off his chair and waited by the door. He glanced at his father as if asking permission.
Kayla offered a compromise. "Miguel, can I get Raul’s help later? I want to put up the planters that Sean bought, but Mom’s resting right now and I don’t want to disturb her."
Miguel finished his sandwich and nodded.
Raul’s face lit up. "Okay. I can do that." With a last look at his dad, he turned and ran toward the cottage he shared with his parents. Poor kid was exhausted and the heat unbearable.
Sean linked his fingers with hers, and gave her a long look. His eyes were warm with admiration for the way she'd handled the situation, and again she was reminded of how good he must have been as a father. Her stomach churned, and she put a hand there, thinking how much she'd love to have a child with him.
Uncomfortable where her thoughts were taking her, she stood up quickly. "I'll go change. Put on my painting gear," she added with a smile.
"You don't have to do this," Sean answered. "We can handle it."
"Three hands are better than two. Besides, I want to."
"You're a strange woman. You actually don't seem to mind hard physical work."
"None of us do. After all, this is our business. Not only do we want to make it profitable, but also a place where people will want to return." She glanced out the door. "It's already looking so much better. The cabins look beautiful."
Miguel stood up. "Paint looks good. Nice colors. After it's done, you take pictures and bring more people here."
She nodded. "And I especially want a picture of you and Raul and Sean, standing underneath the brand new sign, 'Paradise Cove Cottages—newly renovated.'"
"Maybe we don't leave." He grinned. "You need handyman. Yes?"
Kayla didn’t dare hope. "Of course we do. If you don't find your cousin?" She touched his shoulder. "Let's wait and see what happens with the agency."
That said, she took her leave and came back in an old pair of jean cutoffs and a pink tank top covering her bikini. She swept her long thick hair off her face, in a high swinging ponytail. The idea of working side by side with Sean made her insides squirmy. To her it would be foreplay, for she had every intention of luring him into a swim later.
The men had hand painted the front facing walls earlier in the morning before the sun peaked. During her short absence they’d moved all the tarps and ladders to the last remaining wall, now in the shade of the palm trees. Miguel was already ten feet in the air with his can of paint and brush. She stood and watched as he meticulously painted what he could reach, then climbed back down, moved the ladder and went back up again to paint the next patch. He had been doing this all day.
"Why doesn't he use a spray gun?" she asked Sean.
"Said it can make too big of a mess in an inexperienced hand. Also said the paint would last longer this way."
"I should have hired someone,” Kayla said. “You two are working way too hard."
"Someone had to do the job, and this gives him satisfaction and a feeling of accomplishment. He's proud and happy to do it."
"What about you?" she asked. "You're a skilled surgeon. Won't this hurt your hands?"
"Not if I don't fall," he said with a grin. "And I've been lazing on my ass for a couple of months now. The exercise will do me good." He put a hand around her back and kissed her cheek. "I'm also hoping to earn a few favors."
"Oh yeah? What kind of favors?" She moved closer.
"The best kind." He kissed her once before stepping away. "Now don't distract me. It's going to be hard enough keeping my eyes and hands of you. Miguel will fire both of us."
She laughed. "He can be a ball buster, can't he?"
"Let's just say the man has good work ethics," he replied and handed her a brush. "Follow my lead."
"You think I don't know my way around a paint brush? I'll show you." She made carving motions into the sky, brandishing the brush like a sword. "There! How's that?"
"Impressive, but we need to be a bit more detail oriented."
"Okay, okay, I get it. You're the boss."
"Now we're talking." He gave her a meaningful lo
ok. "But later, honey. Then I'll tell you what I want."
Her heart raced. "Let's get to it then." She couldn't help but admire his ass as he bent over for the can of paint. "I've never had a sexy boss."
"I can be extremely demanding." He gave her a crooked grin. "You might have to work out some of the kinks later tonight."
"Oh crap! Why did you go and say something like that? How am I going to paint straight when I'll be thinking of nothing but that?"
"Find a way," he said, "or Miguel will have you do it all over again. I know this from experience."
"The only thing I want to do over again is you," she answered lightly, but meant it with everything in her heart.
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
Painting trim with Sean proved to be fun, and one summer day slipped into the next. They never discussed it, but just fell into a routine. They worked every afternoon together, and at night she'd fall asleep in his arms. Her family knew and were delighted by this, and it was nice not having to sneak around.
Life had never been better. The cottages looked absolutely beautiful in their fresh Key West colors. She had professional photographs taken for new flyers and the website, and they were getting regular bookings. The winter season seemed to be promising. With any luck the bank loan would be covered by the end of the season.
Even Brittany seemed happier. Marc had done more than put a temporary smile on her face. He had promised to come back the following month and suggested that she might like to visit him in Sarasota. Her baby sis had also found a dance studio in Miami where she could take lessons once a week, and a few of the dancers were nationally ranked.
"What are you grinning about," her mother asked, catching her day-dreaming and gazing out the window.
"I was thinking how happy Allan would be for us. Living his dream, and turning this place into something he'd be proud of."
Anna's eyes got misty. "You are so right. I'm amazed at what a difference the new paint job made. I expected it to spruce the cottages up, but they look like something out of a glossy magazine. At least a four star resort." She tossed her head and laughed. "Now we're going to have to do something with the inside."
"I've been thinking the same thing. Maybe we could do one cabin at a time. After all, we did save the money that we'd designated for painters." Kayla turned to her mother, happy she agreed. "Nothing expensive, but just update the furniture a little. Hardly anyone uses the kitchen appliances so we can get away with those for awhile, but good mattresses and bed covers, and a new sofa. Oh, gosh, I could go on and on, but I better not."
"You're right, you better not." Taylor had just walked into the room. She flopped onto the sofa and put a hand on her forehead, looking a tad melodramatic. "I have a pounding headache. I spent the entire morning talking to every damn place I could think of who books rental accommodations online. I searched the web for every site that mentions hotel accommodations in Islamorada and the surrounding areas and will get to them tomorrow." She sighed heavily. "You wouldn't believe how many places there are. Not only sites to advertise, but also how many small family owned rentals there are. I had no idea! Wish I didn't."
Anna walked into the kitchen. "Sounds to me like you need a nice, cool drink. How about a daiquiri? Or name your weapon."
"Mom! It's not even four." Taylor sat up, groaned, then sank back down on the couch. "How can you think of a drink?"
"It's close to five o'clock, and we know it is somewhere." Her mom smiled. "Besides, we've all been working hard. Your poor head is pounding from the tension of all those silly websites, and a drink won't kill you. Or me."
Kayla laughed. "If it could, it would have by now." She jumped up. "We should try out a new recipe for our cocktail hour. Mom? Let's do something different tonight."
"What did you have in mind?" Her mother walked to the buffet where they kept the hard liquor, checking the different bottles.
"What about a champagne cocktail? After all, we have something to celebrate. The cottages look amazing, and our photo shoot went well."
"Do we have champagne?" Anna asked.
"I'll go buy some." Kayla grabbed the car keys. "And Taylor, since you worked so hard today—and you're so totally awesome, how about if I pick up something easy for appetizers?"
"Like what?" Taylor lifted her shoulders and opened her eyes. "What can we offer that's as good as what I do?"
"Champagne and caviar. And strawberries, and smoked salmon, and frozen Russian vodka shooters. This is going to be a heck of a party!"
"Fine. Take me out of the equation," Taylor moaned. "I think I might lie here all night."
"Oh, you can't do that. What about that cute fishing guy that's been dropping in to our happy hours lately, on the pretense of selling us his fresh fish? I think he has a crush on you."
"No way," Taylor said a little too quickly. "And if he does, he better get over it. I'm not interested." She sniffed. "Besides he smells."
"You're not interested in who?" Brittany asked, letting the screen door slam behind her. "That adorable guy who's mooning over you?"
"Give it a rest, Brit. If you think he's so adorable, he's all yours," Taylor snapped. "Oh, my head. Somebody grab me an Advil."
"Get your own Advil," Anna said, "and don't tell your sister to go after this guy. You know how she can't resist a good-looking man."
"Takes one to know one," Taylor said in a sugar sweet tone of voice. "I mean that in the best way possible."
Anna laughed. "Point taken. I'm flattered to be honest. I like men. Always have. They make life interesting."
"Don't you find your life interesting now?" Kayla asked, stopping at the door on her way out. She gave her mom a worried look. "You're not restless, I hope."
"Not at all. I'm having the time of my life. Here with you girls. Meeting new people every week. Well, I'm truly blessed. Mind you, if that handsome dog who owns the Pizzeria gave me the time of day, I wouldn't say no."
"Isn't he married?" Taylor asked.
"Nope. His wife died."
"How do you know that?" Brittany asked, sitting down on the flowered matching chair to the sofa.
"I asked the waitress," their mother replied. "Turned out she's his daughter."
"Oh crap!" Brittany rolled her eyes. "Bet that went down well."
"Well, my pizza came out a little black. Just the crust, but I don't eat that anyway." She smiled. "I wonder if she told him I was interested?"
"I wouldn't count on it—but are you?" Taylor asked. "How can you be? Allan is barely cold in his grave."
"Oh, it's been near six months. Long enough to grieve. It's not like I'll ever forget him or the wonderful years we had together. He'll always own a piece of my heart just as your dear dad still does. But luckily, I have a pretty big heart."
Kayla shook her head and tried to keep the grin off her face. "Yes, you do. But don't spread it around too easily. Anything worth having is worth waiting for." Her thoughts flew to Sean. She'd wait an eternity for that man, if it meant she had his love.
***
Kayla returned from the store with six bottles of decent California sparkling wine, a bottle of pear brandy, and plastic champagne flutes for the pool. She carried another bag with the strawberries, caviar and crackers, smoked salmon and a couple of good pates. She let Taylor put it all together, and then went in to shower and dress.
This was her favorite time of the day. A chance to kick back with her sisters and mom and have some fun with their guests. It was also the first opportunity the women had to relax all day. They were working hard but hopefully the fruits of their labor would pay off and they could breathe a little easier. Not that anyone else in the household seemed to worry about the bottom line, but—it was in her DNA.
After her shower she dressed in a turquoise V-neck tee, and a flowered knee length skirt that was breezy and light in this heat and humidity. Some people would never be able to live here in the most southern part of Florida in the summer months, but Kayla didn't mind the extreme heat, or
breaking a sweat. As Sean could testify.
Their nights together were never dull. The heat between them was off the charts, and no matter how many times they made love, she always wanted more. He filled empty places inside of her that she had never known existed. His need of her matched her own intensity. She didn't know how either of them would survive when he left.
Glancing in the mirror, Kayla straightened her shoulders. She would not think about that now. There would be plenty of time when she could feel bad after he left, she damn well wasn't going to spoil a minute of the time they did have.
She lifted her chin, placed a smile on her face and left the bedroom. Taylor was alone in the kitchen. Her mother and Brittany had taken the champagne cocktail to the pool.
"Your turn to get ready," Kayla told her sister. "I'll take down the appetizers. It looks amazing, by the way."
"Thanks, Kayla." She nibbled on a cracker with a piece of smoked salmon. "I'm really not in the mood tonight, but I know you want to celebrate. And we should. The guests have had to put up with all the mess around here too. They haven't complained, and I've heard several compliments as well. But still..."
"I know. I was thinking that we should offer them a complimentary three day stay for next year to make up for any inconvenience."
"That's a great idea. It will bring them back and hopefully their friends too."
"Exactly. So go put your party face on and I'll see you down at the pool." Kayla picked up the tray, balancing it carefully. "What's that fishermen's name again?"
"Colton," she answered. "Colton Travis. Sounds more like a cow wrestler than a man who makes his living by the sea." Taylor smiled. "I told him that too."
Kayla laughed. "What did he say?"
"Told me his mom loves romance novels and she's got stacks of these sexy cowboy books. He figured he was named after one."
"That's too funny. Does he live alone?"
"I have no idea. Hardly know the guy. But if you really want to know, ask him yourself."
"Nope. I have my hands full."
Taylor grinned. "Sean's taking up a lot of your time, isn't he? I admire your stamina, girl. Work hard all day, then sneak home in the wee hours of the morning. I doubt if you're getting much sleep."
PARADISE COVE (PARADISE SERIES Book 1) Page 18