by Ava Branson
The inviting aroma of spices drifted on the breeze straight to my nostrils and my stomach rumbled in reply. I could be wrong, but my olfactory system said Mexican. A hand-painted sign in a corner read S.O.B. I had no idea what it meant but decided it was perfect. The best food was usually found in home-grown diners only patronized by locals, and this place ticked off all the boxes for that. Two minutes later, I was sure I’d made the right choice. The place had no menu, just a posted list of items and, since Mexican was one of my favorite foods, my mouth fairly salivated for the carna asada I’d ordered.
Several curious glances came my way as I waited for my order. I figured I stood out in the crowd, but I didn’t care. Who knows what you’ll learn or hear if you’re friendly?
I was only halfway through my carne asada when I overheard Clint Thurman’s name come up in a conversation two tables over. I turned as inconspicuously as possible to try and catch the gist of what was being said. The place wasn’t exactly made for fine dining so the din of noise made it damn near impossible to hear clearly, but I was able to get he was dating someone named Josie and then something about money. Two irritatingly loud men came in, and I lost any hope of hearing more.
Irritated for no good reason, I wadded up my napkin and threw it on the plate. Questions rattled in my head about Micki’s dating life since her divorce. I realized I had no idea about who or what she was looking for. Had she not remarried because she was looking for someone with a lot of money? A tiny seed of uncertainty began to grow. She’d said part of why she’d married her ex-husband in the first place was because she’d believed he had everything she wanted. But she said she’d realized how wrong she’d been. Still…what if she’d only been wrong about him and not what he offered?
When she’d dumped me twelve years ago, I don’t think she realized I knew the reason why. She’d tried to be gentle. Some bullshit about her going to school and not wanting to hold me back, which was total crap because we both knew at the time I was merely drifting through my life at that point. I’d graduated two years ahead of her and was happy just surfing every minute I could and subsidizing that passion by working in a boatyard. Not exactly the stuff that reeks of a future success story. And she knew it.
Funny thing was, I never hated her for wanting more. Why shouldn’t she? But what she couldn’t have known then was she was the reason I did become a success. I wanted…no, needed…to prove I could. That had been the catalyst and I vowed one day, I’d thank her for it.
But now there was a shadow of doubt that clouded my thoughts and I hated not knowing the truth. Who was Micki Dawson now?
Chapter Five
Micki
Usually my trip to Clearwater to see little baby Stephen took the wind out of my sails for a good long while afterward. Today—while it still tore at my heartstrings when I left—it was different. There was urgency in me. Finally, something to look forward to and not just another partial day off where I spent the remainder of those hours working on polishing the already polished work to go out that week.
My fingers flexed repeatedly on the wheel. The congestion on I-75 was more irritating than usual. I glanced at the clock on my dash. Three-thirty already and I still had almost an hour to go. That didn’t leave me much time to shower, dress, and pace in front of my closet for half an hour, deciding what to wear.
Which was exactly what I was doing an hour and a half later. Changing repeatedly. Then rearranging my hair for the third time because it had to be perfect. The clothes had to be perfect. Not too sexy, but just the right kind of sexy.
I had a date! I hadn’t been on a bona fide date in over a year!
Cosmo made himself at home on the growing pile of clothes laying on the foot of my bed. “Cosmo! You’re leaving hair everywhere and that is not helping.” Totally ignoring my scolding, he merely yawned and began to give himself a bath. I glared at him until a fresh new bout of nerves seized me and almost took my breath away. “Oh my God, Cos,” I mumbled, my stomach roiling. “What if I throw up?” He didn’t even open an eye.
Sizing up the pile of clothes under Cosmo’s sleeping body, I stomped back into my closet. Choosing an outfit had never been this difficult before. But, then again, I hadn’t been going to meet Devin.
“Ugggghhhh.” Irritated with myself, I pushed my face into the jam-packed clothes and grabbed handfuls of the hanging garments. “This. Can’t. Be. That. Difficult. It’s only a da—”
“Oh, shit!!!” I shrieked, pushing back from the cushiony clothes. “Shit, shit, shit.”
I’d forgotten to text Devin!
Racing from the closet and almost tripping over Cosmo—who was now scampering to get away from my screeching—I ran through the house, naked and not caring what windows I passed to get to my cell phone.
“How the fuck can you forget something like this?” I screamed at myself, my fingers shaking as I started to dial his number. There was no time for a text. A phone call was in order, and I didn’t need his card.
I’d memorized every damn thing on it last night.
One ring.
Two rings.
“Oh, my God, oh my God, oh my God…please ans—”
“There you are.” His deep, velvety voice filled my ear and jelly filled the lower half of my body.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t text before now.” The words gushed out of me. “I just got out of the shower, and…somewhere along the line, I just—I just lost my mind. I’m sooo sorry.” I raked my fingers through my hair and bit down hard on my lip. “Do you still want to have dinner?” I chewed my lips furiously.
“I’ve been waiting all day.”
Everything inside me went warm and the day became bright. I breathed a sigh of relief away from the phone, my eyes clenched shut in relief. “Shall I pick you up?”
“I’d like that.” The man spoke three words, and he somehow made them practically orgasmic.
“Okay. Forty-five minutes?”
“I’m ready, Micki.”
Ready, he’d said. My heart tripped and my breasts grew heavy, as I fantasized about how ready I’d like to make him.
Forty minutes later, I pulled into the resort parking lot, my mouth dry and my palms sweaty. Shoving the car in park, I gulped in huge breaths. Suddenly I was a seventeen-year-old girl again, waiting for the most gorgeous surfer I’d ever seen to come and pick me up for our first date.
I hadn’t thrown up then, but dang...there wasn’t a single part of my body that was calm, cool, and collected right now.
For God’s sake, Micki. You’re a grown woman, not some high school girl anymore. I’ve had enough life experience to give me more worldly confidence. Right?
Right???
As I got out of my car, I realized I hadn’t asked which suite or villa he was in. I dug through the contents of my purse for my phone as I walked toward the lobby’s entrance. My fingers no sooner found the slim case when I looked up and found Devin standing outside the big doors. And looking impossibly handsome in a simple, understated way. Sexy as ever-lovin’ hell.
It took effort not to stop and stare, but hadn’t I just reminded myself of my sophistication? Still, the photographer in me framed him as I’d place him in a photo. The brilliant white of his shirt accenting his tan skin, making those glorious blue eyes look like glittering sapphires. Looking every bit the relaxed Ralph Lauren model, jacket open, hands shoved casually into the pockets of his grey pants. If I’d made a list of my dream man like Chloe had suggested, this was what I’d picture. Gloriously thick, sandy-colored hair floated over his collar with enough length to thumb its nose at conventional businessman dress.
The closer I got, the bigger his smile grew. I wanted to stop the couple walking past me and point out the man who was waiting for me, so they could see the vision I was seeing.
“Hello.”
“Hello, yourself. I just realized we hadn’t talked about where to meet.” I was about to congratulate myself on my outward appearance of cool sophistication when the clean,
fresh scent of his cologne drifted in the air. Light, not heavily cloying like some scents, it was the finishing touch of male perfection. The heady combination dinged my aura of poise, reducing me to a walking, barely talking, jumble of giddy nerves.
“I planned to meet you so it didn’t matter.” His gaze slowly drifted down the length of me, then back up to meet my eyes. “You look stunning.” Ocean blue eyes, dark and heated, met mine.
My skin flushed at the intensity. With one look, I went from feeling like a gawky young woman on a first date to a collection of hot feminine parts, tingling, wanting more than just his gaze.
Mustering up more confidence than I felt, I returned his look with an inventory-taking one of my own, and—judging by his reaction to the cream-colored, off-the-shoulder dress I wore—I’d picked a winner. The body-conscious jersey hugged every curve as it fell to my feet. It was way more revealing by what it covered and hinted at than what skin was left bare. I’d added a soft leather belt, tooled with small bronze medallions woven in that tied with loose leather tails. I left it hanging low on my waist. Simple gold hoop earrings finished off the bohemian vibe. I’d hoped the outer trappings would bolster my confidence. The goal was falling a little short at the moment.
Instead, my breasts grew heavy under his continued appreciative look. There was no stopping my body’s reaction and, despite the rolled down top of my dress that covered by breasts, my nipples tightened and there was no hiding the fact.
Move up the stairs, Micki. He’ll look up.
I took one step up but, judging by the way his nostrils flared, he hadn’t missed it at all. He extended his hand. “I hope you don’t mind, but I went ahead and made reservations at Junonia, unless you had somewhere else in mind?”
I swallowed hard and took the two steps up and placed my hand in his. Strong fingers closed over mine, gently pulling me to his side. “No, that’s fine. It’s lovely here.”
“Good.” He smiled. “I wanted to spend every minute with you without the distraction of driving somewhere.”
As we walked toward entrance to Junonia at the far end of the lobby, my hand still in his, a curious wave of rightness bloomed in me. Memories of holding his hand rushed my mind, stealing the air from my lungs. For a fleeting moment, it was as if I’d never let go. But we had parted ways, and my head reminded me of what my heart was trying to forget.
Marcia, Junonia’s head server, greeted us warmly and seated us in a lovely spot with a stunning view of the grounds and an artist’s view of the sapphire blue waters of the Gulf. Marcia left us with a smile, and our waitress appeared almost immediately to take our drink order. I played it safe, ordering a glass of chardonnay. The last thing I needed was to have my already weak knees made shakier by alcohol. That, and my head needed to be one-hundred percent in the moment.
“If you don’t mind my asking, how did today go? I realize it’s a sensitive situation so if you’d rather not talk about it, I totally understand.” Devin’s words were soft.
A wash of sadness came over me and I turned to look out the window, blinking back the tears that inevitably flowed whenever I thought too hard or too long about my babies. I’d long since begun to think of them as mine, because in a very small way, they were mine while I tried to capture the very essence of their little souls. Their spirit and plucky strength inspired me, as well as devoured my heart when they were gone.
“Those two parents…” I shook my head, pausing, my throat tight. Blinking back the sting of tears, I didn’t dare look at him because the compassion I believed I’d find in his eyes would break my thin thread of control. “They’re just amazing, honestly. I don’t know how they get through each day, but they’re both very faith-filled and love their baby with all their heart and soul.” Finally, I felt strong enough to turn back to him. “From the very beginning, they were determined to make this a celebration of life and not a death watch. They celebrate every little thing they can because they know they’ll not have the birthdays, the Christmases with him. They just…they blow me away. I don’t think I could be that strong.”
He sat quietly for a moment, his eyes never leaving mine. He cleared his throat, speaking in a low, roughened tone. “I don’t think you, or anyone, really knows how strong they are until they have to be. When that’s the only choice they have.”
My throat closed. I could only nod.
The waitress appeared with my glass of wine and his extra dry martini. He stared at his glass for a moment then lifted it between us.
“What are we toasting?”
“Here’s to the gift of life,” he said gently, his eyes somber.
A single tear slipped from my eye. Then another. The leash I’d had on my emotions slipped and the tears broke free. I tried to dash them away surreptitiously with the back of my hand. Through my blurred vision, he handed me his white linen napkin.
“Sorry, I never have a handkerchief on me.”
I gave him a weak smile. But there was the fact that I wasn’t a pretty crier. Puffy eyes and a runny, red nose was hardly the stuff of dreams, and I wasn’t about to blow my nose at the table—in a cloth napkin. “Excuse me, Devin. Please.” I was up and out of the chair before he could rise all the way out of his.
It took a few minutes in the ladies’ room to get my emotions, and my nose, under control. The red had softened to a pink that I was able to powder over and mute. I tissued away my smudged mascara. With a quick wash of my hands and another glance in the mirror, I felt ready to go back out.
He rose as I got to the table and held my chair for me. “Thank you and I apologize for that. I didn’t realize how much was bottled up.” I flashed him a bright smile. “So, how many dates have you started like that?” I teased.
One dark brow lifted. “Is that what this is? A date? Not just a couple of old friends crossing paths and catching up?”
Something in the tilt of his head sent a warm shiver through me. “I guess I did use the word, now, didn’t I?”
As if satisfied with that, his smile grew wider. “Glad we’ve got that settled.”
The waitress reappeared at our table to take our dinner selections which broke the building cauldron of questions in my head. Thankful to have something neutral to focus on, I chose the Chilean sea bass with sautéed fresh greens and wild rice pilaf, and Devin ordered the lobster and steak with a baked potato—heavy on the extra butter. My mouth fairly watered. Oh, to be able to eat like that.
“Hungry?” he asked.
I almost choked on my laughter. It was as if he’d read my mind. “As a matter of fact, I am.”
“I wondered about that.”
Perplexed, I asked. “Why?”
He lifted one shoulder in a casual, half shrug. “Thought you might have forgotten to eat again today.”
“Oh, no, I—” My eyes flew open wide as my hand shot up and covered my mouth. “Oh, my God!” I mumbled from behind my hand. “I did it again.”
He chuckled heartily. “You know, they make this thing on cell phones nowadays, and it’s this little function where you can set reminders to yourself. Maybe you should try it, or do I need to stick around another day or so to make sure you don’t waste away into nothing?”
My heart pounded at the thought of him staying. “Oh, I don’t think I’d waste away and believe it or not, I usually do just fine. It’s just the past two days have been rather…busy.” That was, if busy meant out of my mind and horny as hell. “Speaking of these changes you’re thinking about making in your career, do you feel like sharing?” Apparently, my mouth had a mind of its own and opted to change the subject.
He sipped his martini and leaned back in the chair, looking relaxed and mouth-wateringly gorgeous. “I’m not entirely sure how this is all going to end up. I have a successful firm that I’m happy with and proud of. I could sell out my percentage of it and do extremely well.” He sat forward in his chair. “Remember the yacht Jason and Chloe are on?”
I laughed easily. “Like, how could I forget?”
>
Bright, even white teeth grinned broadly at me. “God, that was fun to surprise her. Anyway, the owners of that new boat are looking to branch out into a more mid-priced range of yachts to capture another demographic in luxury cruising. These big girls, the mega yachts, charter for tens of thousands of dollars a week and they’re looking to layer in another fleet that would serve those people who can’t afford a forty-thousand-plus-dollar week. And they want me to design them.”
“Well, that sounds really intriguing.” This was a world I’d only known from glossy yachting magazines growing up and watching the super-rich float past us in our humble little boats. It was a whole other way of life that I could only imagine.
“It’s an interesting venture to consider, but I’m not sure if it’s everything I want either. Something’s lacking and that’s what I’m going to spend the next month trying to figure out.” He’d looked out at the water briefly but swung his gaze back to me and shrugged. “Should be interesting to see what I come up with.”
I couldn’t imagine having the luxury of being able to take a month off from work “I won’t lie. That sounds amazing. A whole month.”
A look of introspection came over him, but it was quickly replaced with a cheeky grin. “Yep. A whole month on an island in the Bahamas with nothing but crystal blue waters surrounding me, trade winds blowing day and night, and fish clamoring to be caught.”