PARADISE COVE - 3 BOOK SET: PARADISE COVE SERIES

by Patrice Wilton

  Brittany opened the door at the first knock. “Right on time I see.” She laughed and gestured for him to come in. “I bet you never keep a lady waiting.”

  “Am I that predictable?” he grumbled, taking her hand and twirling her around for a thorough view. “You look incredible.”

  A thigh-length, strapless dress in white set off her olive skin, and dark wavy hair floated down her bare back. Her brown eyes brightened with excitement and there was a rosy tint to her cheeks.

  “You, too.” She bumped shoulders with him. “I made dinner reservations for Chef Michaels. It’s one of the dressiest places in town, and since we’re going dancing later I thought it would be nice.”

  “Agreed. Haven’t been there. Mostly seafood?”

  “Yes and no. They have the best hogfish around, but they also have excellent prime rib and game.”

  “Sounds delicious.” So long as they were together, he’d be fine with a cheeseburger.

  “Good. Then we can go to Lorelei’s for dancing—it doesn’t get busy until after nine. I can’t wait. I’ve missed dancing and didn’t even know that until now.”

  “I should have asked you before.”

  “You didn’t know me before. After last night, I think you do.”

  He offered his arm and she wrapped her fingers around it, allowing herself to be led to his car. He opened the door and helped her in, and she smiled up at him.

  “Keep looking at me like that, and I’m going to be dancing you right into bed.”

  “You’re too much of a gentleman to do that.”

  “It’s not too late to change.” He strode around the front of the car, sliding into the driver’s seat.

  “Nice car,” she said, touching the buttery cream leather, nodding her appreciation for the dark-grain dashboard.

  “Three years old and only ten thousand miles.” And mostly parked in the garage of his high-rise apartment. “Don’t drive much in the city.”

  “What’s the point of having it?” she asked.

  He wouldn’t apologize for owning a few luxuries. Chase kept his answer flirtatious. “Taking out pretty girls like you.”

  “Ha.” She lifted her shoulder, enjoying the game.

  Ten minutes later they pulled into the crowded parking lot of the restaurant. He hurried to the passenger side to open her door, and couldn’t resist putting a hand on her bare back as they headed toward the main entrance.

  Chef Michael’s had a dim interior with beach-focused artwork on the walls, indoor palm trees, and circular tables set with white tablecloths and elegant wine glasses. They were led to the patio with a more romantic setting—billowing white curtains, candles and tiki torches, soft music in the background.

  The waiter helped Brittany with her seat, so Chase sat down opposite her with a nod of approval. “Good choice.”

  She picked up her napkin and spread it on her lap. “I aim to please.”

  “You certainly do.” He winked at her, and her eyes twinkled, her lush lips curved in a smile.

  The waiter handed them both a menu, and they perused it after they’d ordered a bottle of Napa Valley wine.

  She ordered the hogfish, while Chase decided on the lamb shank braised in wine. They both had a house salad to start, and sat back to savor their drinks.

  “So how was your day?’ he asked, knowing that she’d worked most of it.

  “It almost started off with a bang,” she answered lightly. “Not with you, but with my gun-toting mama.”

  “What are you talking about?” He leaned forward, his mouth dry. “Your mom thought you were an intruder?” His knee-jerk reaction caused him to spill a drop of wine on his sleeve. “Damn.”

  Brittany turned her head and called for the waiter. “Could we have some club soda please?”

  The waiter took in the situation at once and hurried off. Chase dabbed his cloth napkin in his water glass and dotted the wine splotch. “What happened, Brit?” He raised his eyes to hers. “You had an intruder? Or your mom thought you were one, coming in at that hour?”

  “No. No.” Brittany fluttered her fingers in dismissal. “She wasn’t about to shoot me. Jose. My ex-loser-boyfriend.”

  His jaw clenched. Brittany had been in danger and he’d been a hundred yards away, not even aware that she needed him. “What was he doing there?”

  “Good question. I asked him the same thing.” She took a sip from her wine, then put the glass down. “His wife kicked him out. He probably told her I was having his baby, or something stupid. Apparently, she knew about me, but I didn’t know about her.”

  “His wife knew he was having an affair with you?” What kind of an asshole was this guy?

  “That’s what he told me.” She shrugged her bare shoulder. “Guess as long as she was well taken care of she didn’t care what he did.” Her mouth tightened. “I don’t know why she threw him out, and I don’t care. She probably was through with his lies.”

  “Okay.” He didn’t give a damn about Jose. It was her Chase cared about. “So he came here, wanting you back?”

  “I don’t know. We never got that far.”

  The waiter brought the club soda and a white dinner napkin. “Can I get you anything else, sir?” he asked.

  “No, thank you.” Chase could live with a faded pink stain on his shirt. He wasn’t okay with Jose showing up and waiting for Brittany. The waiter left and Brittany continued.

  “I told him I’d lost the baby, that we had nothing left to say to each other and I asked him to leave.”

  “He refused to go? Did he threaten you?”

  “He got real mean looking and started toward me. I told him again to leave, and then my mother was behind him, toting a gun I never knew she had, and told him to get out of her house.”

  “And then?” He dabbed at the mess on his shirt, listening to every word. Anger raged inside. While he was creating his fantasy world, lost in his creative muse, Brittany had been in danger. So had Anna. He’d only been two cottages away, but had been oblivious.

  “I grabbed the phone and threatened to call the cops. Mom had a gun pointed at him, telling him to make her day,” she giggled, but Chase heard a note of fear, “and I guess common sense told him this was not the time to be macho. So he left.”

  She picked up her fork and stabbed her salad. “You should have seen Mom. Apparently she did Annie Get Your Gun in an off-Broadway play. She was an actress you know. Years before she met my dad. Anyway, she told me after Dad died that she got herself a gun and learned how to use it. It was pink. I didn’t know they made pink guns. Did you?” She snickered. “Must admit she did a really good Dirty Harry imitation.”

  “It’s not a laughing matter.” He tossed the napkin down on the table and leaned forward. “It could have gotten serious. You two might have ended up on the other side of the gun. Thank God, Jose had the sense to turn away before it got really ugly.”

  “Don’t give him any credit,” she said, chin in the air. “My mom saved the day. Not him.”

  “I know that.” He was stopped from saying anything more as their meals arrived, and their half-eaten salads were taken away.

  The flirtatious atmosphere was gone. Chase cut off a bite-sized piece of lamb and watched Brittany edge the side of her fork into the tender fish. “I’m sorry if you think I was admiring his behavior. Anything but. I am furious that he showed up and treated you this way. I just wish I had been there to protect you, that’s all.”

  She lifted the fork to her mouth but then set it down on her plate. “Mom did a good job. I’d like to have had you there as well. I was frightened, and I don’t like the fact that he can do that to me.”

  “If Jose bothers you again, you get a restraining order.”

  “I hope it doesn’t come to that. Mom thinks he’ll move on to his next victim, another young woman he can control. I believe that too. Besides, coming all the way to Islamorada is a long way to travel when he can find an easier target closer to home.”

  Silence linger
ed for a few moments and finally Chase pushed the remainder of his meal away. Brittany kept chasing the same piece of broccoli around the rim of her plate with her fork. “Are you going to finish your dinner?”

  “I had enough, delicious as it is.” She removed her napkin from her lap and put it beside her plate. “’Fraid I lost my appetite.”

  He put a hand over hers. “Me too. You still up for some dancing? I’ve got a few moves I’d like to show you.”

  She laughed. “I think I might enjoy that.”

  He paid the bill, and kept a hand on her bare back as he walked her to his car. He opened her door, but before she had a chance to slide in, he turned her around to face him.

  And then he kissed her. Softly, gently, letting her know that he was as different as night and day from her ex with regard to women. He treasured them, and treated them accordingly.

  She kissed him back. “I’m sorry about tonight. And dinner. I should have waited to tell you.”

  He lifted her hand to his mouth, and kept his eyes on hers. “The dinner doesn’t matter. I’m glad you felt comfortable confiding in me. And I want you to know something else. I would never show anger toward a woman, and especially not to you. No matter what happens between us, whether you tire of me or not, your happiness is important to me.”

  “I’ve never met anyone like you.” Brittany touched his cheek. “You could be the biggest klutz on the dance floor, and I’d still like you.” She grinned at him. “Let’s go have some fun.”

  Lorelei’s was crowded but they found a table near the dance floor. After placing their drink order, he asked her to dance.

  It was a slow number which allowed him to hold her, and feel her warm body against his. It was a hot night, and the moon was golden. The band wasn’t bad, and neither was he. With his arm around her waist he guided her around the floor, spun her once and reined her back in.

  Her eyes sparkled with laughter and surprise that he could actually dance. When the number ended he returned her to the table, and then excused himself to speak with the band.

  “I’m trying to impress my lady friend, and would like to do a tango.” He nodded toward her. “You think you might be able to help me out here?”

  The lead guitarist checked with his band. “Kiss of Fire. We think we can manage that.” He offered a fist bump. “Good luck.”

  “Thanks. Appreciate it.” Chase slipped him a large bill, then beckoned for Brittany to join him on the floor.

  “I have a surprise for you,” he whispered. He clasped her around the waist. When the band started the latino chords, she glanced up at him.

  “It’s a tango,” she whispered back. “We can’t do this.”

  “Oh, yes we can.” He gave her a sexy smile. “If you’re not sure, just follow my lead.”

  Her brown eyes flashed as she accepted his challenge, and she moved in tight, her arm firmly attached to his back. “Lead on.”

  With a swift motion, he stepped back, taking her with him, then sideways and two steps forward. Basic moves, until he got her warmed up. Then he moved boldly and with confidence as he handled her body and his own. With a firm touch, he guided her around the dance floor, showing off his own skills, complimenting hers. As a finale, he lifted her high, then dragged her body down his in one long, fluid sexy move.

  Many of the patrons were standing around, cheering them on, but there were a few hecklers, beefy guys in jeans and sloppy t-shirts. One of them tapped him on the shoulder, asking Chase if he could have the next dance.

  His buddy hooted with laughter, and made suggestive comments.

  “We’re just dancing, pal. No law against it, as far as I know.” Chase had his arm around Brittany’s waist and headed toward their table. A sensual dance between two people ruined by idiots. His jaw clenched.

  “Don’t mind them,” Brittany said, hugging his arm. “Guys like that will never get it. They call it a sissy dance, and yet they can see with their own eyes that it takes a real man to handle a woman so precisely. You made me hot,” she whispered, brushing her hip against his. “I could dance with you all night long.”

  His ego soared. They sat and sipped on a couple of chilled beers. “So how did you learn to dance like that?” she asked.

  He leaned back in his chair, and watched her for a minute. Making her happy tonight meant a hellova lot more than being taunted by a couple of ignoramuses. He wasn’t going to let them spoil the night.

  “My mom wanted me to learn all the appropriate skills to be a southern gentleman, and for her, that included dance lessons. I preferred kickboxing, so we compromised and I did both.”

  “You’re very good at it. And I think your mother was right.” She fanned her face. The exhilaration of the dance and the humidity of the summer night made her skin glow.

  “Mama was, at that. I had an excellent teacher. I was sixteen, and my instructor was ten years senior to me. She took it upon herself to give me private lessons, and I never complained about dancing again.”

  “Did she…” Brittany let a finger slide down her chest, giving him a suggestive smile.

  “She did.” He rubbed his jaw. “She was my Mrs. Robinson.”

  “Oh!” Brittany’s eyes gleamed. “Did your mother know?”

  “I didn’t think it necessary to tell her. She was happy that I was happy. Enough said.”

  “Well, I’m happy that she made your experience such a positive one.” She grabbed his hand. “Come on. Let’s dance some more.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  They spent another hour at Lorelei’s, dancing until heat and exhaustion made her beg to stop. “Enough,” she cried, when the musicians took a break. “You dazzled me on the dance floor, but one more step and I might collapse.” She laughed, and put her arms around his neck. “Maybe you should take me home?”

  “Of course.” He led her back to their table and she sank into the chair as they waited to pay the bill.

  “Sorry to cut the night short. It’s not even midnight, but I have to be at the Cafe in the morning.” She shook her head. “I’m getting to be an old lady. Can’t even stay up and party anymore.”

  “I have a feeling that you’ll never be an old lady. Like your mother. She’s a livewire, isn’t she?” He stood waiting for the waitress to return with his credit card, and his hand caressed the back of her neck. She loved the way he spoiled her by simple gestures that he was probably totally unaware of. She reached behind her and took his hand, kissing his palm.

  She wanted to spoil him too. She’d never met anyone like him, she trusted him completely and knew that his goodness reached down to his core.

  “You could say that.” Brittany rose, wanting to be next to him. “Last year around this time, she was here for cocktails and met some guy at the bar. A hurricane was coming and she refused to come home. Stayed out all night. Had Taylor worried half to death.”

  “Oh no. That wasn’t good.” The waitress dropped off his receipt and credit card, which he slipped into his wallet.

  “Tell me about it!” She laughed and put her arm through his as they headed to the parking lot. She was wearing sandals with tiny heels and had to be careful walking over the gravel.

  “Just as well we’re leaving early,” he said. “It’ll give me an early start on my writing in the morning. I was pretty productive today. Things are starting to move along nicely.”

  She squeezed his arm. “That’s so exciting. I’m sorry, I didn’t even ask.” She hoped that didn’t mean he’d finish his play early, and leave. She wasn’t ready to lose him just yet.

  “Don’t worry, we had a lot of other things to discuss. But it doesn’t let you off the hook. You are my muse, and I need to keep you close.” He had his arm around her waist and tugged her closer. “After you left in the morning, I was feeling inspired.”

  He had just unlocked the car doors of his Lexus when she heard the gravel crunch behind her. She swung around in time to see two men jump out from behind a car and grab Chase. She recognized them as
the two men who’d heckled them earlier at the bar.

  “Stop. Leave him alone,” she screamed as they both started punching him. One got him right in his nose, and Chase doubled over as blood spurted everywhere. She moved forward, trying to grab a flying arm, wanting to stop this assault, and got backhanded for it.

  Her stomach clenched with fear and she scanned the empty lot for help. She turned to the noisy bar and then glanced back at Chase.

  Chase raised his head—their eyes connected and he winked. What the hell? Then, still bent over, he launched a sideways kick that got one of the assailants in the stomach. The big guy fell, but his buddy moved in to finish Chase off.

  She held her breath in fear. Chase would deal with them, she told herself. He knew kickboxing, and if he was half as good at that as he was on the dance floor, well the only ambulance needed would be for the two men who were dumb enough to take him on.

  Still bent over, Chase waited until the second guy was within striking distance and then he shot his leg out backwards and caught him right in the jaw.

  He howled in pain, staggered back, and then saw his buddy was doubled over, spewing his guts out. He grabbed his friend, and the two of them hobbled off. Chase stood there, legs apart, breathing hard as he watched them go.

  Relief hit Brittany with a surge of adrenalin. She rushed back to Chase and threw her arms around him. “Are you all right?”

  “Better than those two.” His nose was bleeding, and he pinched the bridge so it didn’t spurt on her. “You got anything in your purse?”

  “I might.” Maybe a crumpled tissue she’d blotted her lipstick with, she thought. He needed more than that. “You want me to call an ambulance?”

  “No. It’s just a nosebleed. Don’t think it’s broken.”

  She searched her small handbag for the tissue and handed it to him. “I’ll run back and get some paper towels from the restaurant.”