PARADISE COVE - 3 BOOK SET: PARADISE COVE SERIES

by Patrice Wilton

  “Well, that’s something, isn’t it?” She couldn’t quite keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

  “I don’t have much else to offer.” He stared straight ahead, and she knew he felt bad. Suddenly she didn’t care if she was on the short end of the stick. It didn’t matter. She didn’t want him hurting anymore than he already did. She knew what she was in for, and sharing whatever time together they had was her choice. Her choice, and she’d already made her mind up about that.

  She wanted to help him, to make a difference in his life. She wanted him. Period. For good. For bad. For whatever. She was a big girl and could handle what life threw her way. Practice had made her an expert.

  “It’s alright,” she told him, putting a hand over his on the steering wheel. “I’ll take your honesty, and give you back mine. I want you. In bed and out. I care about you a lot, and I know that this is not forever, but that’s okay. I’m good with it.”

  He linked fingers with hers and brought her hand to his mouth. “I don’t deserve you.”

  “Yes. Actually you do.” She smiled at him, her heart fluttering. He did things to her insides that were both delicious and scary. It almost hurt, but it was a pleasurable pain.

  A minute later they pulled into the lane leading to Rhapsody, and for once she thought that cabin was aptly named. For if ever there was a man who could make beautiful music with his hands and his body, it was him.

  When he parked outside his cottage, she slid out of the car, tingling in some special places. Damn. He’d been gone two nights and she’d missed him completely. She’d filled her days with work, but her soul had been empty.

  He flung the door open, and with one hand on her back ushered her inside. “The way you’re looking at me…God. It’s driving me wild.”

  “Then you know how I feel. I’m just so glad you’re here.” She knew that she shouldn’t reveal so much. Better to play it cool. Besides, she didn’t want anything from him that he couldn’t give.

  His eyes didn’t break contact with hers. “Kayla. I missed you too.” He kissed her hard. His mouth was almost ferocious with need, as if he couldn’t help himself anymore than she could. She put her hands around his neck, holding on, accepting the assault and eager for it.

  Their heated kisses lasted a long, long time, until she thought she’d die from lack of breath, and still she wouldn’t stop. He slanted his mouth away from hers, sucking in oxygen like a drowning man. She gulped in air too, then she rose on her tiptoes and took his mouth once more.

  He back-stepped her into the bedroom, their lips still attached. If she had to die, this was certainly the way to go. She fell backwards onto the bed and he went down with her. They held on tight, kissing, rolling around, him on top, her on top, happy, just happy to be together, to share this magical moment, to accept it as a special gift that they would always remember. This one night, she would love this man with all her heart and then she’d let him go.

  “I want you so much,” he murmured, his hand slipping under her dress. He lifted it to her hips and stroked the tender flesh of her inner thigh. “I don’t know if I’ve ever met anyone as wonderful as you.”

  She smiled, although it pained her to do so. “You don’t have to say anything. Your actions are enough.”

  “I want you to understand.”

  “I do, my dear sweet Sean. I understand perfectly. Believe me, I want this too. It’s enough.”

  “But how can it be?” his voice was anguished. He pushed himself away to look into her eyes. “You deserve so much more.”

  She kissed his shoulder and whispered, “It just is.”

  “Kayla…” His eyes were troubled, and she wanted to ease his worries.

  “Stop talking.” She touched his lips. “Kiss me instead.”

  “If you’re sure.”

  At her nod he began by removing a piece of clothing, inch by inch. His movements were slow, his touches tender light caresses, making her ache deep inside. When she was naked under him, he glanced at her in the moonlight. “You are the most beautiful woman I know.”

  She gave a weak smile, not wanting his flattery. What difference did words make when their time together was fleeting at best? She needed more of him, in the here and now. “Take off your clothes and show me.”

  Doing as she asked, he tossed his aside, lay down beside her, and filled her completely. His shaft went deep, but it was so much more than physical. He touched her heart and she might never recover.

  She surrendered herself to him, accepting, giving, taking, and cried with pleasure. The night was long, and filled with a bittersweet joy laced with sorrow. One day he would be gone, but for tonight she had this.

  * * *

  The following day, she pretended to keep busy but she kept making excuses to make little trips down to the cabins. Sean had decided to help Miguel paint, and he’d opted not to wear a shirt. Of course she’d seen his abs before, up close and personal, but having them on such magnificent display was unsettling.

  “Hi boys,” she called out, bringing yet another pitcher of lemonade and fresh cookies. It was only eleven a.m. and this was her second trip.

  Sean waved at her from the ladder he was perched on, and Miguel didn’t look up from the long brush he wielded like a master craftsman. So intensely was he into his work, you’d think she’d hired him to paint the Sistine Chapel.

  Raul came running over. “I’m so glad you’re here. I’m sooooo thirsty,” he said grabbing his paper cup. “Painting is hard work,” he told her puffing out his chest. “But Papa said I’m doing good.”

  “I should say you are.” She filled his cup and handed him the biggest cookie. “A growing boy like you needs plenty of sustenance.”

  “What’s sust-a-nance?” His eyes crinkled into slits as he tried to sound out the foreign word.

  “It means something to fill your tummy.” She smiled. “So eat up, and fill your cup when it’s empty.”

  Sean hoisted himself off the ladder, and walked toward her. “Boy, is this appreciated. I’ve gone through three bottles of water already this morning, and I haven’t needed a bathroom break. Damn humidity sucks the fluid right out of you.”

  She looked at his broad, tan chest and wanted to lick it. She stuck out a finger instead and flicked off some perspiration. “I know what you mean. The last few days my sisters and I helped prime the place.” Pouring him a big glass full of tart lemonade, she watched him gulp it down, then refilled it. “I’ll keep it coming as long as you don’t think I’m a nuisance.”

  He slid a hand around her waist, giving her a quick hug. “Not a chance of that.”

  She nearly purred with delight and her insides began to hum. “I’m going to bring Juanita some lunch and then go to the store. Is there anything you’d like?”

  His eyes roamed over her and she flushed with warmth. “I think I’ve got all I can handle for the moment.”

  She laughed. “I’ll leave the tray here, and see you all later. Make sure Miguel drinks plenty, won’t you?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He walked off, whistling a happy tune as he returned to work. She watched his back for as long as she could, and tried not to drool.

  “You like him, don’t you,” Raul said with a big grin. “I can tell.”

  “I do like him, and I like you too.” She ran a hand through his long dark hair, ruffling it affectionately. “Would you like us to cut your hair,” she asked suddenly. “It would be cooler than having hair down to your shoulders.”

  “Naw. It’s fine.” His eyes danced. “Like Tarzan.”

  “You know Tarzan?” she asked. “Did you see movies back at home?”

  “Sometimes. Old movies mostly.” He pointed at his chest and puffed it up. “Me Tarzan. You Jane.” Doubling over, he laughed and laughed, then covered his mouth. Eyes big, he gaped at her, and his smile faded as though afraid he’d done something wrong.

  “Okay, Tarzan,” she said, with a warm smile. “Time to go back to work.”

  Relieved, he r
aced off, and she walked away smiling. Back at her own cottage she ran into Brittany. “Hey, how did your night go?” she asked, trying to gauge the expression on her sister’s face.

  “Great! And yours?”

  “Ahhh…excellent.” She laughed. “Enough on that subject. Will you be seeing this guy again? Hopefully he’s the right age, I take it? No more college boys?”

  Brittany grinned. “He better be. I didn’t ask, but yes. I will be seeing him again. Tonight.” She stretched and yawned like a contented cat. “Marc Whelan. He’s a stock broker and lives in Sarasota.”

  “Sounds promising.”

  Brit shrugged. “Not really. He’s just here for a week. Came down for some big game fishing.”

  “Well, I like the sound of Marc Whelan. And the smile he’s put on your face.”

  “He’ll be leaving soon and then I’ll probably never see him again.”

  “Take it one day at a time.” Kayla knew the odds were not in their favor, anymore than it was with her and Boston Sean. But it was possible if they both wanted it enough.

  “Brit, I was just going to take some lunch to Juanita and then run to the store. What are you and Taylor up to?”

  “Taylor is working the office. Mom’s getting her mani-pedi.”

  “Oh, good.” She kicked off her sandals and hitched her butt on the kitchen stool leaning on the counter. “And you?”

  “I booked a massage. After the hard labor the last few days, my body needs some pampering.” She made a face. “I want to be in good shape for tonight.”

  “And so you should. Enjoy the massage. You deserve it.” She jumped off the stool and opened up the fridge door, peering inside. What to make Juanita—salad, sandwich? Both?

  “What about you?” Brit put a hand on her hip and tilted her head. “You’re the one always working.”

  “I like to keep busy. Besides, Sean’s helping out Miguel, and he’s shirtless.” She paused what she was doing, and looked up with a wicked smile. “I’ve made at least three trips down to the cottages so I can feast my eyes. He’s got an amazing bod.”

  Brittany snorted and put a hand over her mouth. “Well, I’m sure that makes your job a little more tolerable.”

  “You bet it does. So don’t feel the least bit sorry for me. I love my work. Especially today.” She didn’t need to add how relieved she was to have Sean back. That was a given. “Since you’re going out already, would you pick up dinner when you’re out? That’d save me a trip.”

  “Sure. What would you like?”

  “It’s for the guys. Fried chicken, pizza, Chinese? Something fast and easy. It doesn’t matter.”

  “You got it!” She picked up her bag, tossed it over her shoulder and headed for the door. “Enjoy your busy day.”

  “You better believe I will.” Kayla laughed and returned to the business of making lunch. Once she’d finished taking care of Juanita she’d be free to hang around the men, perhaps offer a hand. Or entice one to take a dip in the ocean and wash away the grime and sweat.

  The day and the endless night carried many tantalizing options for an opportunist like herself. And she planned to make good use of them.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Juanita was lying on the couch watching TV when Kayla popped in. “Hola!” she called out, and struggled to sit up. Kayla rushed over to help her into a semi-prone position, and plumped the pillows behind her shoulders. She still looked too pale and thin, but her big brown eyes were bright and shining.

  “More food?” Juanita patted her extended tummy. “You’re going to make me fat.”

  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.