by Tamara Lush
“I am troubled. About a lot.”
“Spill to your little brother.”
“Well, my troubles are about my little brother.”
He chuckles. “Remy’s always been a tool. But tell him he looks mer-mazing in a merman fin.”
I crack a smile through my near-tears. “My issues aren’t with him. They’re with you.”
I watch as he sits up in his bed, his back against the wall. “So, I guess Kate told you I’m thinking about staying an extra four months.”
“She did. And she also told me about the baby.”
Damien looks startled but doesn’t say anything. I’m not going to mention how I told Matthew about the baby, or how Matthew blurted their secret to everyone today. Or, if I do, it’ll be later in the conversation.
“You can’t stay in Syria for her entire pregnancy. You just can’t.”
“Nat, you don’t understand.”
“I do understand. I understand that your wife is pregnant, and that she misses you something fierce, and that she needs you. I understand that you’ve got a few more months in a war zone and then you’ll be home. With us. Where you belong.”
His mouth sets in a hard line. “Okay. So, consider this. What happens when I come back and I don’t have a job. Or insurance. Hm? Have you thought about that, Miss Know-It-All?”
I make a snorting sound, but his words irritate me. “So? It’s not like you and Kate are going to starve. You’ve made a ton this year, and Ma and Dad have money if you need it. Just come back and get a job.”
“Has Kate told you about her condition?”
I lean toward my laptop, which is sitting on my kitchen table. Sin jumps up on the counter near the fridge, but instead of shooing him down like I usually do, I ignore him.
“Condition? No.” I blink.
“She has genetically high cholesterol and requires treatments. It’s part of the reason why I married her so quickly. So she could have health insurance. Now that she’s pregnant, she needs the best care. If I leave my job, we’re not insured. She’s not insured. Our unborn baby won’t be insured.”
I open and close my mouth. “Oh,” I whisper. My stomach hardens.
“The situation isn’t as black and white as it seems. Kate wants me to come home and assumes I’ll find a job right away. But there’s no guarantee, and I don’t want her without medical coverage. Jesus, Nat, don’t you think I’d come home if I could, right now?”
I chew on my lip, my mind spinning. “I have an idea.”
He rolls his eyes. “What’s that?”
“Why don’t you come work with me and Max at the resort? We offer health insurance.”
A sigh leaks from his mouth. “And what exactly am I qualified for at the resort?”
I wave my hands wildly in the air. It’s a brilliant idea, if I do say so myself. “I don’t know. Something. We’ll find something. I’m sure Max would be thrilled to have you working with us.”
“I don’t have a degree like you and Max do. My specialty is undercover ops, not customer service and hospitality. I dunno, sis.” But I can tell he’s seriously considering it.
“Please? Let me talk with Max. We’ll find something for you. Please say you’ll think about it and not sign another contract?” I thread my hands together and make a pleading face for the camera.
“I’ll think about it,” he grumbles.
For the first time in hours, I grin. My mind’s already working overtime to figure out how Damien will fit into the organizational structure of the resort. This makes so much sense and Kate will be overjoyed. I love solving problems.
Get my brother back home, become an aunt, continue dating Matthew. I’ll reach new occupancy goals at the hotel, sell more jewelry, and have some awesome sex with my hot, older boyfriend. Maybe I’ll even become friends with Chloe. I’ll be the cool aunt to her, too.
Sounds like a pretty great life, actually.
“Manic pixie dream girl, my ass,” I mutter aloud.
“Huh?” Damien grunts, looking confused.
“Nothing,” I beam.
Chapter Eighteen
MATTHEW
“Someone looks happy.” I give Natalia a quick kiss. It’s mid-morning, and she texted to ask if I would have lunch with her at the resort. Since I’m waiting on some new helicopter parts, and now that Chloe’s in school, I said yes. Of course, I said yes — I crave being near her.
Natalia and I haven’t seen each other since the party, and I feel a little jolt when she grins in my direction.
“Someone is happy. Very happy.”
I shut the door to her office and take a seat. Patting my lap, I open my arm to guide her to me.
“Going to tell me why?”
She’s in that same, sexy, black dress she always wears to work. Apparently, she has ten identical dresses. Her quirkiness is endearing. With a grin, she eases onto my lap and drapes a graceful arm over my shoulder.
“Well, Damien decided to come home on schedule. He turned down the additional assignment. He just emailed me an hour ago, after talking to Kate.”
Thank God. We’ve been texting for two days about how upset she and her entire family have been at the possibility of him staying longer in Syria. I rub her back. “That’s excellent news, babe. You talked him into it.”
She shrugs. “I guess.”
“Will he take the job here?” She told me all about how, since chatting with Damien on Sunday, she and Max had worked to figure out a position for their brother. They’d finally settled on a security job. Of course, being Natalia, she’d come up with some funky title: Head of Secure Resort Ops or CEO of Leisure. Something irreverent.
“Yeah. He said he would. Claimed he might leave if he got called for the fire or police academies, but at least now he can’t use health insurance as an excuse. And we do need security, so this will be good. I think he’ll end up staying, and it will be awesome.”
She sighs and leans in to kiss me. “And I have a surprise for you. That’s the other reason I’m happy.”
“Oh, really? You’re full of surprises this week. Dinner with your parents tomorrow and now what?”
She jumps off my lap, laughing. “Yeah, you’ll be quite surprised by Ginger and Angus, all right. Is your sister okay with watching Chloe tomorrow? She is on vacation, after all.”
“You kidding? They’ve got the night all mapped out. I can’t wait for you to meet her, too. She’s sorry she missed the mermaid brunch.” Hailey’s flight had already been scheduled to arrive too late in the evening for the party, but since she’s staying a full ten days, I figure there’ll be an opportunity for her to meet Natalia at some point.
“Awesome. Come.”
She reaches for my hand and pulls me out of the office, grabbing her clutch purse as we walk out.
“When I took you on a tour of the resort before, I don’t think I showed you a few important things.”
We stride through the airy lobby, then down another long hall. The carpet is colored in various hues of blue and the walls are stark white.
“We have two categories of hotel accommodation here at the Paradise Beach Resort: suite and room.” She’s talking in a smooth, professional tone, and I wonder what she’s up to.
“Good to know.”
“We have poolside”—she motions to a line of dove grey doors with her left hand, then gestures to her right—“and we have Gulf view. All of our rooms were decorated by a noted interior designer from Miami who captured the laid-back lifestyle vibe. We focused on hues of blue sea glass and pearl white, with coral accents.”
We’re at the end of the hall now and she stops at the last door on the right. She takes a key out of her clutch and waves it near the electronic pad on top of the doorknob.
Grinning, I follow her inside and take in the pristine room. It looks like a mini vacation to me, with the curtains open to reveal the blue Gulf of Mexico. The bed’s huge, probably a California king, and there’s a bucket filled with ice and a bottle of champa
gne on the console. There’s also a blonde, wood tray with sandwiches wrapped in plastic.
“I’m feeling that laid-back lifestyle vibe already,” I say.
She takes the “Do Not Disturb” sign and slides it onto the doorknob, then shuts and locks the door. She turns and there’s a glittering, feral look in her eyes.
“What’s all this?” I ask, even though I know exactly what it is. And I’m already hard in anticipation.
Her grin is eager and coy as she walks toward me. I back up toward the bed as her hands slide down my chest.
“Sit,” she whispers, and points to the edge of the bed.
I do, and she slides her dress off, revealing her gorgeous body. Her gorgeous, naked body.
“You’re not wearing anything,” I say in a hoarse voice, taking in her smooth skin, those long legs, and the fact that she’s wearing only her black heels. She’s so damned gorgeous, it’s hard to believe she’s real.
“You did all this for me?”
Nodding, she leans in and kisses me, her sugar smell mixing with the freshly laundered linens. Her hands go to my belt, then my fly, then the zipper. I’m naked within about three seconds, and when I try to grab her, she murmurs a no. Then she looks at my throbbing erection like she’s starving.
“Lunchtime,” she says, then laughs.
When she sinks to her knees, my eyes roll back in my head; I’m overcome by the absolute perfection of this woman.
“Well, I can’t say I’ve ever heard of meditating with dolphins, Mrs. Hastings.”
I try not to glance into Natalia’s eyes because she’s cracking up, and I know I shouldn’t laugh too.
“Ma, Matthew’s not going out on a kayak to commune with dolphins.”
I clear my throat. “It sure does sound interesting. How does that work, exactly?”
Natalia snort-laughs and elbows her father.
“It’s some damn fine kayaking,” Mr. Hastings says in a gruff voice. “But I’ll admit, I didn’t feel any connection to the dolphins.”
“Angus, that’s because you were trying to make dolphin sounds to attract them to us. You should have tried to be quieter.” A coy smile plays on Mrs. Hastings’ lips, and it reminds me of one of Natalia’s expressions. Mr. Hastings winks at Natalia.
We’re at the dinner table and have just polished off a tray of manicotti. Knowing my heritage, Mrs. Hastings pulled out all the stops with an Italian recipe from her father’s side of the family. Honestly, it’s the best meal I’ve eaten in years, and I was stuffed even before she trotted out the cannoli.
That doesn’t stop me from eating a couple of those, though. I’m too busy stuffing my face to contribute much to the conversation, but the Hastings family doesn’t seem to mind. They appear to have a lot to talk about.
Tonight’s dinner discussion has revolved around three things: Mr. Hastings’ colonoscopy, Natalia’s jewelry, and dolphin meditation. No lie, at first I was nervous when I sat down because Natalia’s father is so damned gruff.
But the slightly off-kilter conversation set me at ease. Well, I was a little disarmed about the talk of Mr. Hastings’ polyps, but hey, every family has its quirks, right? It sure beats sitting around with my mother and stepdad, talking about shopping and luxury resorts and who joined which country club in Palm Beach.
The Hastings family is clearly a little different, but they adore each other. I can tell by the way they look at Natalia. And since they treat her so well, I’m a fan. Plus, it’s fun to watch Nat chortle and banter with her parents. It’s a whole other side of her that I haven’t seen.
Now we’re discussing whether dolphins can, indeed, sense if people are meditating nearby. Natalia warned me about this, that her mother is a bit New Agey.
“I swear, the last time I went out, I sat in that kayak and a pod of dolphins circled me. They knew I was sending them loving vibrations,” Mrs. Hastings insists.
“They were probably hoping you’d fall in the water so they could eat you,” Nat says, scooping up the final crumbs of the cannoli by flattening her fork to the plate. “Dolphins are jerks, you know that? I saw a NatGeo special on them. They work together as a team to go in for the kill. You should count your blessings that you got out with your life, Ma.”
“Oh, silly. No. They’re magical creatures. Did you know Leilani’s thinking about doing a photoshoot with them?”
Natalia quirks a brow. “Oh, really? What’s she waiting for? An RSVP?”
I meet the mirthful eyes of Mr. Hastings. He leans back and slaps his stomach. For an old guy, he’s pretty fit, I’ll say that.
“Matthew, I’d like to show you my liquor collection in the study. C’mon.” Mr. Hastings stands.
“Just like you, taking the men out of the room right when we need to clean up,” Natalia chides. She climbs to her feet and kisses her dad’s cheek.
“Leave it. I’ll do the dishes later.”
“Yes, dear, leave it. Nat, I wanted to show you my new shoes. Come.” Mrs. Hastings, who is like a human hummingbird, gets up and steers her daughter out of the dining room.
I follow Angus out of the room and into the den.
“Limoncello or Sambuca? Both direct from Italy,” he inquires, pausing at a rattan bar cart stocked with bottles.
“Sambuca would be great, thanks.” I walk around the room, pausing at a wall of photos.
There’s Nat at her college graduation, beaming. I grin. A quick scan of the other photos shows the Hastings boys in various pursuits: fishing, football, the Marines, taking some sort of oath in what looks like a courtroom. That last one’s probably Tate, the brother who’s a lawyer.
I move to another photo. It’s black and white and in a thin black frame. It’s of a young man with dark hair screaming into a microphone. He looks like a punk rocker, shirtless and with a Black Flag tattoo on his left bicep. Hunh. I wonder what that’s doing here on the wall of family pictures.
Mr. Hastings comes over and hands me a glass. He points to the photo. “1980, at the Vortex in London.”
I glance at Mr. Hastings, then back at the photo. Something about the brow and jaw matches. Then my gaze shifts to the faded tattoo on his arm. “That’s you. Holy crap.”
“Yup. I was the front man for a punk band back in the late 70s and early 80s.”
“Wow. And then…” My voice trails into a laugh, because for the first time tonight, Mr. Hastings is chuckling.
“Then I met an ethereal hippie chick, moved to a Florida island, bought a resort, and the rest is history.”
I knock back a gulp of my drink, the liquid anisette burning my throat in the most pleasurable way. “I’ll bet you have some tales to tell.”
“Oh yeah. Definitely. How about you? This your last stop, or are you just here to open a business and leave? Lotta people do, you know. I’ve seen people come and go over the years.” He motions to a couple of comfy-looking, green chairs nearby.
I sink into one. “My daughter just started school here, so I’m on the island for the long haul. She’s ten and had a rough time over in Fort Lauderdale with some bullies, so her mother and I thought it best that she have a fresh start.”
Mr. Hastings nods slowly. “Natalia mentioned something about that.”
“Yeah, she was great at organizing that brunch for Chloe. The kid really enjoyed it.”
There’s a pause, and I sense that I’m about to find out why he brought me in here.
“My daughter seems enamored with you.”
There it is. Not unexpected. Natalia will always be his little girl, a feeling I totally get.
“And I’m enamored with her, Mr. Hastings.”
“Call me Angus.”
I smile.
“Matthew, did she ever tell you she was in a bad relationship in high school?”
“She did mention something about that, yes.” I shift in my seat. This is a bit uncomfortable, discussing Natalia’s past relationship with her stern-looking dad as he sits across from me.
“Her brothers
and I are quite protective of her after that, if you know what I mean.”
I clear my throat. “As the father of a girl, I get that. As the father of a girl who was bullied, I am all too familiar with how that feels. Unfortunately.”
“We don’t tolerate bullies in this house.” His voice is low and a touch menacing.
I nod.
“That little prick she was tangled with, he was the worst kind of kid. Entitled, rich, arrogant. The worst part is that he extinguished the light in her for a few years.”
I swallow. “I care about your daughter.”
“I’m sure you do. But it’s my job to protect her when I can, so this is my opening salvo to you.” Although he’s smiling now and sounding friendlier, his blue eyes are like steel.
“With all due respect, I think Natalia can handle herself. I think she got the badass gene in this family.”
Angus chuckles and shakes his head. “That she did. That she did.”
“If you’re asking what my intention with her is, I’ll be the first to say that I’d like to get more serious. But I’m waiting for her to give me the cues that it’s what she wants, if you know what I mean.”
Angus nods and looks into his drink. “I don’t think you’ll have a problem with Nat telling you exactly what she thinks and feels. That’s a trait she gets from her badass mom.”
As we’re grinning at each other, Nat comes in. “Hey. You guys talking about me?” She flops on a gray sofa, her long legs distracting me.
“Eh, I was telling him about my days in London,” Angus says, getting to his feet.
Nat grins at me. “Ah, when you were a crazy, punk rock guy.”
“Where’s your mother?” Angus asks.
“She’s out on the porch.”
“Good deal. You two kids join us, okay?” Angus nods at me and I return the gesture. He lumbers out.
I look at Nat. “Your dad’s a good guy. I like him.”
“I think he likes you, too. Did he give you a warning lecture about me?”
I sip my drink and my gaze roams over Nat’s legs in those black shorts. “Mmmhmm.”
She smiles while uncrossing then recrossing her legs. “Let me guess. Nat dated a douchebag in high school, we’re protective of her, don’t think about messing with her or you’ll have the Hastings men to deal with?”