Soaked (The Water's Edge #2)

by Stacy Kestwick

  “Oh, God!” I cried, taking a step forward, my hand reaching out to him.

  He retreated hastily. “Woah, there, killer. I was coming, no need to attack.” He rubbed the spot where I’d thwacked him, rotating his arm at the shoulder.

  “Grady, I’m so sorry, I was just trying to kno—”

  “I’m fine,” he interrupted. “Trust me, I’ve survived worse.” His face clouded momentarily and his eyes went a bit hazy as he massaged the spot one last time. “Much worse.” Shaking his head, he moved around behind the mammoth desk that dominated the room. The wall behind him was floor-to-ceiling glass, much like the main room at his beachfront mansion. From here, he had a bird’s eye view of most of the resort, like a king surveying his kingdom.

  He lowered himself into the plush leather office chair and pointed at the two upholstered armchairs arranged in front of the desk. “Why don’t you have a seat and catch me up with your progress?”

  “My progress?” I sat on the very edge of the seat, legs pressed together. “You mean . . . with the . . .” I trailed off. Was he asking about the emergency I’d told him I had to rush off and handle?

  “Not that.” He shook his head. “It seems to me that you got that nightmare in Tennessee handled just fine.”

  My face burned. “You know.”

  He swiveled in his chair, and gazed out the window for a minute, his hand coming up to rub across his mouth. His face appeared more drawn than I remembered, even though he looked as impeccable as ever in his charcoal gray suit with a pale silver shirt beneath. His eyes seemed more tired, heavier somehow, than they had in Grand Cayman. Working his jaw back and forth, he turned back to face me, his eyes both sincere and formidable. “What I saw was a beautiful young lady, who has nothing to apologize for, and a smug fool who, frankly, could stand to learn a few new moves, let alone some better personal grooming habits. I also noticed that said video has disappeared from the internet, and that the Nashville police blotter showed the arrest of one Asher Snowden. Well played, Miss Mullins.” He dipped his head in my direction, a pleased smirk playing around the edge of his mouth.

  I collapsed back in the chair, relief and shock making me forget my posture all together. “Am I . . .” I tried to swallow past the dryness of my mouth.

  “Fired? Is that what you came here to ask me?”

  I nodded, mutely. Miserably.

  “Why would I fire you? Your work has been more than satisfactory and your coworkers sing your praises, in your roles both at the pool and behind the camera. That said, I do expect an update on the family-centered campaign for the new resort.” He raised his eyebrows expectantly.

  Numb with relief and gratitude, I was speechless as I searched through my purse, before emerging triumphantly with a thumb drive. I leaned across his wide desk to hand it over. “Right here. Finished, edited, and ready to go.”

  He opened the sleek laptop and front of him and started to insert the small device when he paused. “You sure these are the right images?”

  I flushed and looked away, nodding.

  “Too soon?” He winced at my reaction.

  I bit my lip. “Just a bit.” His joke helped though, awkward as it was. Some of the stiffness left my shoulders, and I scooted back to sit properly in the chair, instead of perching on the edge, ready to flee. No, now my nerves centered on what he thought about my work. My first big commercial campaign.

  As weird as it sounds, those shots almost felt more personal, more revealing, than anything Asshole had uploaded.

  Long minutes ticked by, broken only by the sound of Grady clicking through the pictures. Needing a distraction, I studied the room. The oversized desk was a dark, rich wood. Not mahogany, something darker. Probably exotic. A sleek, low-slung olive-colored couch anchored one wall, with two offset armchairs boasting an unexpected botanical pattern facing it. A thick rug with an abstract pattern topped with an oval coffee table lay between them. Square sepia-toned photos of desolate docks backing up to frothing seas marched along the wall above the couch. I recognized the prints. It was a series Nick had done. The other wall had a shallow bar set up, with crystal decanters placed precisely along the top. A huge nautical map of the Caribbean took up the rest of the space. No curtains hung from the windows, as if he didn’t like anything to block his view of the sea’s endless attack and retreat along the beach.

  Finally, he leaned back from his computer, steepling his fingers as he looked at me. It took everything in me not to fidget under the weight of his gaze.

  “I love them,” he said simply. “Your eye is excellent. The brightness, the innocence. Joy radiates from these shots. It’s exactly what we want our customers to feel. What’s more, it provides an excellent counterpoint to Nick’s work. The contrast between the two campaigns is going to work beautifully. In fact, this one here,” he spun the computer around to where he had stopped on a shot of the youngest tow-headed child with a look of absolute glee on her face, jumping in a tidal pool, the moment captured mid-splash, while her sister was shrieking and spinning away, “can we get it blown up by the gala tomorrow? Water’s Edge will have a sponsorship display near the entrance, and I’d like to have this shot and one Nick has already sent set up.”

  Shocked, but in a good way for a change, I released the breath I’d been holding, and for the next hour we discussed the logistics of size, price, and delivery for the rush order. After I’d tucked away my notepad where I’d jotted down pertinent information, I rose from my chair, sure that this concluded our meeting.

  “Grady . . .” I hesitated, knowing what I wanted to say applied to both Grady-my-boss and Grady-my-friend, but not wanting to overstep. “I just want to thank you for your support and understanding. I wasn’t sure . . . I wasn’t sure how today was going to go.”

  Grady nodded and got to his feet as well, moving around the desk toward the door, but he paused halfway, turning back to assess with me with a calculating gaze. “You do plan on attending the gala, correct? It would be hard to show off my talented new photographer to the larger community if she wasn’t there.”

  I nodded, a bit unsure if the timing was really right for that networking, but trying to draw from his confidence. “I am.”

  “West is taking you, I assume?”

  I laughed once, a dark, bitter sound. “No. No, I believe he’s escorting Aubrey. It seems she has difficulty driving in heels, and West will once again be coming to her rescue. In any case, he hasn’t asked me.”

  “Can’t drive in . . .” Grady furrowed his brow as his voice trailed off. He crossed his thick arms over his chest and tipped his head slightly as he regarded me. “Sadie, it would be my honor to escort you to the gala tomorrow.”

  Surprise widened my eyes and froze me in the act of pulling my purse strap up my shoulder. “That’s generous of you, but certainly . . . not . . . necessary.” My voice betrayed my confusion.

  “Oh, I know it’s not necessary.” He smirked. “But I think it’s time West got a taste of his own medicine, don’t you? I know he’s crazy about you, but I’m not sure he always thinks things through where women are concerned. He’s never really had to before.”

  This was a side of Grady I hadn’t seen yet. The troublemaker. And yet, I couldn’t help but appreciate the deviousness of his plan.

  I had just opened my mouth to answer him when he spoke again.

  “Unless you’d prefer Nick to take you?”

  I SMOOTHED THE deep blue dress over my hips, then twisted to check how my ass looked in the mirror. Not bad. In the front, a scalloped lace overlay met in a V deep enough to show just a hint of cleavage, and in the back, the lace dipped all the way down to my waist. Short, fluttery sleeves lifted and flirted with my every move and the skirt fell to my feet in a whisper of chiffon that was light enough to keep me from melting in the humidity at the outdoor gala at West and Hailey’s grandmother’s oceanfront mansion. I’d curled my hair and piled it up into a messy-on-purpose updo, knowing the back would just turn into a sweaty mes
s if I left it down. I skipped jewelry altogether except for some diamond studs that Rue loaned me.

  But when it came to my makeup, I’d gone all out. Dark, smoky eyes, fake eyelashes that were trickier than I’d expected to apply, and pouty, pink lips. It was my armor, my war paint in my battle against Aubrey. Also, it ensured that no matter what happened later that night, I couldn’t cry. My eyes had taken me close to an hour to perfect, between the fucking lashes and getting the winged edges of my eyeliner to match. God bless YouTube tutorials. I’d had to start over after my first try, but the second run had gone much smoother.

  And Rue had insisted I wear her delicate champagne-colored, strappy heels. They were tall enough to make a statement, but not so tall I feared for my life while wearing them.

  She’d left twenty minutes ago to pick up Theo, her date for the evening. She loved Theo, but hated his beat up car, so she was driving them. The golden bangles lining her slender wrist had jangled as she’d air-kissed me goodbye, careful not to smudge our makeup, saying she’d see me there shortly.

  I was just checking that I’d remembered to tuck my phone into my small clutch when the doorbell rang. Taking a deep breath, I plastered a smile on my face and opened the door, knowing it wasn’t West on the other side, no matter how much my heart wished it was.

  “Hey,” Grady said, his eyes automatically drifting down my body. “You look breathtaking tonight. You ready to go knock ’em dead?” His formalwear fit him in such a way that I knew it was custom made, not just off the rack, and he pulled off a bowtie well, unlike most men. It was a real one too, no doubt hand-tied himself, not one of those cheesy clip-ons. I imagined he would be quite devastating with the bowtie hanging loose around his neck, a few buttons undone near his throat.

  “I was thinking of letting everyone live tonight, actually.” I laughed and locked the door before following him down the steps. “Well, mostly everyone. There is this one person . . .”

  He shook his head. “I don’t think you’re going to have anything to worry about tonight. I know I’m looking forward to it more than I expected.”

  “And why’s that?” I slanted a curious glance his direction.

  “Let’s just say I’m expecting some fireworks.” He winked at me, then opened the car door and ushered me safely inside his low-slung, matte-black sports car. It probably cost more than my college tuition and was exactly the type of car I expected him to drive. Powerful, but understated.

  The conversation flowed easily between us on the ride, reminding me of our time together in Grand Cayman. The normalness of it all helped me relax, helped me push the red, jealous thoughts of Aubrey riding to the same destination next to West from my mind. Did he open her door? Did he help her climb up into that monstrosity he called a truck? Grip her waist and hold her hand? The traitorous image lodged in my mind, but I turned to the handsome man next to me and focused on him instead. Tonight, he would be my lifeline if I needed one.

  The quiet strength he emanated, the cool confidence that flowed through all his subtle movements as he handled the car, I wanted to absorb it all during our ten-minute commute. Let it wash over me until I was calm as the sea at slack tide. Incapable of being ruffled by anything less powerful than the moon.

  Once we parked, he turned off the ignition and let me sit for a moment in quiet, gathering myself. It was as if he could tell I needed one more minute to prepare myself for battle. I took a deep breath, and he seemed to recognize it as the signal he’d been waiting on, that I was ready to go.

  After squeezing my hand reassuringly, he came around to open my door and escort me to the entrance.

  I tucked my fingers in the crook of his arm as we walked, my heels sinking slightly in the loose, sandy soil beneath the perfectly manicured grass. I knew from listening to Hailey and West talk about the logistics that a wooden dance floor and pavilion would be set up, so my footing shouldn’t remain a liability much longer.

  And then I could see them. Up ahead. All lined up in a reception line of sorts. First Aubrey, then Margaret Montgomery, the family matriarch and West’s grandmother, her husband, Charles, and West, devastating in his tuxedo. The black material fit him a little snug around the shoulders, as if it had once been custom made for him, but then he’d put on more muscle.

  I shivered a little.

  I was all too familiar with his muscles.

  We paused in front of Aubrey. Ignoring Grady, she pointedly looked me over, her lips already curling into a sneer. Not to be outdone, I returned the favor. She’d gone for beauty pageant chic, was all I could conclude. A tight black dress with slashed cutouts and beading over what material was left, caked-on makeup, and the tallest hair I’d seen outside of a TLC television special. I grudgingly gave her a few points for her shoes. They were killer. As in, they would’ve killed me if I tried to walk in them.

  “I didn’t expect to see you here.” She sniffed, tossing her head back. Not one strand of her hair budged with the motion. It was kind of creepy.

  “And yet here I am.” I smiled sweetly, but my nails dug into the arm I was still clinging to.

  “I just figured after . . . everything . . . you’d have wanted to be a little less visible.”

  “Aubrey!” Margaret’s voice was sharp with rebuke, but dangerous in its softness. “Stop it at once! Sadie rescued my sweet Cody and will always be welcome at my house. Is that understood? And beyond that, you only make yourself look classless when you attempt to belittle another woman in public. I’m ashamed of you.” The razor edge to her voice seemed to make Aubrey shrink several inches.

  Cutting me one last nasty look, Aubrey turned to the couple approaching farther down the drive, her Miss America smile once more firmly plastered to her lacquered exterior.

  I reached forward with my free hand to shake Margaret’s in greeting, but was immediately pulled into a warm hug instead. As she embraced me, she spoke in my ear, soft enough that the words didn’t carry to those around us. “My dear, West has spoken to me about you several times now. I expect to start seeing you around here regularly, and moreover, I couldn’t be more thrilled to see him settle his affections on you.” Pulling back, she continued at a more normal volume. “You look exquisite tonight, Sadie. I do hope we’ll have a chance to talk more later.” She squeezed my shoulders before dropping her arms from around me.

  I’m not even sure how I responded, my mind still in a daze from her words.

  West has talked about me? To the point that he’s shared his feelings with her?

  I murmured a greeting to her husband, forced a perfunctory smile, and then I was there.

  In front of him.

  I blinked.

  He was beautiful. The tux hugging the breadth of his shoulders, his untamed hair, and the sexy scruff on his strong jaw. His eyes smoldered as they ran down me, before flickering warily to the man at my elbow.

  “Grady.” West nodded, his eyes jumping between us, a question clear in the way he said his best friend’s name.

  “West,” Grady replied smoothly, moving forward to do the fist-grab, half-hug, black-slap combo that guys did when they met. They sized each other up for a moment, and then Grady stepped aside. Smiling broadly, he tipped his head in the direction of the bar. “Now that my work here is done for the moment, I’ll be over there if either of you needs me.” With a quick wink to me, he melted away into the crowded backyard.

  “WEST.” I HADN’T meant to whisper.

  Emotions chased over his chiseled face. Desire, uncertainty, determination, tenderness. Blatant want. Capturing my hand in his larger one, he pulled us back a few steps, giving us some semblance of privacy.

  He tucked a wayward curl behind my ear. “Sadie.” My name was a caress on his lips.

  Our eyes clung, trying to determine where the other stood. Where we stood.

  “You didn’t call,” he said.

  I shook my head. “No. But I looked for you.”

  “I found the paper plane. At the dock, when I got in this afte
rnoon.”

  My eyes widened. I’d forgotten about that.

  He hooked my pinky finger with his. “Did you mean it? Did you miss me?”

  I nodded and bit my lip, suddenly shy now that he was standing right here in front of me. He took another half step, until my breasts rubbed his chest, and he wrapped one strong arm around me, his fingers spreading wide on the bare skin of my back. I swear I felt his breath catch just a little when his hand met nothing but warm flesh. He dipped his head, murmuring in my ear. “You made me crazy, not hearing from you. But then, I’ve been crazy about you since you pulled me from the ocean.”

  I sagged against him a little, my hand slipping up to clutch his hard hip.

  “I don’t even care that he brought you tonight. You’re mine, and we both know it.”

  I moaned softly at the feel of his lips against the rim of my ear, and the tip of his tongue stole a quick taste.

  Determined not to let him distract me, I pulled back. “He only brought me because you brought her.”

  “Her?” His eyebrows knit with confusion.

  “Don’t play games with me. Aubrey. Hailey told me you were bringing her.”

  “Ahhhh, so that’s what this is about. You’re trying to make me jealous.” He tugged me closer. “It’s working.” I tried to jerk back to glare at him but he wouldn’t let me put any distance between us. “Sadie, I didn’t bring her. I didn’t bring anybody. I got delayed in St. Augustine and only got in a few hours ago. I barely had time to get myself here. Besides that, I never had any intention of bringing her, no matter what story she told to my grandma.”

  “But Hailey sa—”

  “I also don’t run all my plans past my sister.”

  Relief, thick and heavy, poured through me, and my tense muscles relaxed. He’d come alone.

  His hips pressed against mine, and the thickness of his growing arousal was impossible to miss. “I have to mingle for a while, shake hands, do the obligatory networking. But then I’m finding you, Sadie. And we’re going to talk.” His finger trailed down my spine, awakening every nerve ending in its path. “You look gorgeous tonight. No man will be able to keep his eyes off you.” He sounded slightly disgruntled.