Jonathan peered in. “Morning, Tony. Marco and I are going for a jog on the beach. Wanna come?”
“Why does everyone plague me? Can’t you see I’m weak?” I sagged against my pillows, feeling my bottom lip grow into a pout. “No thanks, Jonny. I’ll just lie here and recover from—ack!”
That undignified squawk was occasioned by the gorgeous Marco bounding into the room in all his shorts-clad glory and grabbing me by one ankle, making as if to pull me right off the mattress.
“Up and at ’em, you! No getting out of anything this vacation. Remember? You promised!” His dark eyes sparkled with that darned team spirit. Team Pellegrini-Vallen! Rah, rah, rah! Ugh and triple ugh. Why had I agreed to be “coachable,” or whatever that motivational rot was Marco liked to use at the Pellegrini-Vallen Foundation staff meetings to turn us into his little Mini-Mes?
“Did I? Oh, hell. Okay, I’ll go jogging, snorkeling, whatever you want me to do. Except scuba diving. I absolutely draw the line at that!”
Marco let go of my ankle with a smug smile. “We shall see, Antonio. We shall see.”
Jonathan and I exchanged glances. He knew that my reluctance to ever consider scuba diving stemmed from the near-drowning incident, but Marco didn’t know about that. At least, I didn’t think Jonny had told him.
Later, the four of us jogged along Smathers Beach, me with way less energy than the others. I slowed from Marco’s insane pace. Screw it. I was jogging, and that should be enough.
Jonathan fell into step with me, letting Marco and Sophia run ahead of us. “How’re you doing?” His gaze was concerned.
Being a natural-born bullshitter, I feigned obliviousness. “Doing? Oh, just peachy, doll! Although if the rest of this ‘vacation’ is going to be this energetic, I have grave doubts I’ll be able to keep up.” I meant it, too. I was huffing and puffing rather pathetically in comparison with the rest of my buff crew.
“No, I mean about seeing Walter last night.”
That’s my cuz, always getting straight to the core of the matter. I have to admit, at the sound of Walter’s name my insides flipped like a pancake. I did the usual—lied like a rug.
“Oh, him? Who cares? He’s such history, babe, I can hardly remember it.”
“Tell me the truth, Tony.”
I’d been scanning the ocean as I spun my tale. I should have known not to look at Jonny, because as soon as I did, his earnest expression undid me. “I am! Well… that is, I…. Oh, drat you, Jonny. I don’t know what to say. I’m destroyed, to tell you the truth. And isn’t that the silliest thing? I haven’t seen the boy in twelve years! I didn’t even talk to him! But here I am, falling to pieces.”
We both slowed to a walk, letting Marco and Sophia pull away even farther.
“Yeah.” Jonny clasped my shoulder, then let go. “I don’t know what to say. It’s so weird, us walking into his bar.”
“Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world,” I drawled in my best Bogie accent, “he had to walk into mine. That’s what Walter was thinking, right?”
“Probably. He seemed freaked. He took off like ten seconds after you went outside—went into the kitchen and never came back out.”
“Charming.”
“We don’t have to go back to his bar, though. We can avoid him the whole time, if you want.”
“Think again, hon. Guess who owns Back Bay Dive and Sail?”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope. Walter Elkins, dive master, bar owner, and all-around pain in my ass.”
Jonathan turned troubled eyes to Marco’s and Sophia’s distant figures. “We can use another dive shop, maybe?”
“Forget it. I’ll be fine. I’m not going scuba diving anyway. Oh, I meant to ask you—you’ve never told Marco about the drowning thing, right?”
“Right. And I won’t, if you don’t want me to.”
“Yeah, no reason to tell him or Sophia at this point. Walter is probably going to be a nonissue even if I did decide to scuba dive. Miles said Walter doesn’t do the instructing anymore, so I doubt he’ll even be around.”
“Miles?”
I stuck a hand on my hip, camping it up. “Darling… the delectable young plaything I was dancing with! I know you only have eyes for Marco, but Miles was easily the second most beautiful man in the room!”
“Okay. If you say so. Let’s get going before we lose the others completely.” Jonathan began jogging again, and I obediently fell into step beside him.
“Miles works for Walter.” In a manner of speaking, I thought darkly, as speculation again filled me about what kind of “work” Miles was actually doing for or with or under or on top of Walter, for Walter to let him slack off like that.
I must have been frowning, because Jonathan knocked shoulders and said, “Cheer up! We’re on vacation!”
I eked out an insincere grin. “Whoop-de-doo!”
Jonathan laughed. “Just imagine if this had happened to me. Okay, if I’d never met Marco and if Gregory was working down here. You’d be going on nonstop about how epic and… uh, destined this whole thing is.”
“Ugh, Gregory. Can we not?”
Gregory was the cur who’d broken Jonny’s heart right before Walter had broken mine. He’d been Jonny’s music tutor, took total advantage of him, and made Jonny fall in love with him. Then, when Uncle Frederick—Jonathan’s own Daddy Dearest—had found out and threatened Gregory to leave town or else, guess what? Gregory had run so fast his feet hadn’t hit the ground. Bastard.
“Well, that’s the way you should be thinking about Walter. He took off on you and left you in the dirt. I’m surprised you still care.”
Jonny had a point. Why should I still care about a guy who’d totally dropped out of my life after I’d almost died? I mean, that was frickin’ horrible. Who did that?
“You’re so right, Jonny. I’m not giving him one more thought. Life’s too short and men are too beautiful. Yes?”
“Uh-huh. That’s what you’ve always said.”
Jonathan smiled his sweet smile. My cousin is such a love. Why, then, did I have an irrational urge to punch him just because he was sickeningly happy? Why should I care that he’d snagged the prince and was living out his happily ever after? I was the one who’d helped it happen, for God’s sake. I loved romance! For others.
As for having my own fairy-tale ending, I’d always been staunchly opposed. Scoffed at the very notion. Downright cynical about love for me, and proud of it. I was free to play around with loads of men, enjoy every minute, and walk away.
And now I was pissed at Walter Elkins for having the temerity to exist, to have fucked with my heart, and to be crossing my path once again. What gives, Universe? I knew I was a big one on destiny—for others—but I sorely wanted to send back this helping of cosmic coincidence.
BY THE time we left to go snorkeling that afternoon, I’d calmed down and regained my carefree perspective. Snorkeling was great. The near-drowning had put me off swimming in rivers—and I wasn’t all that keen on tackling ocean breakers either—but when I’d tried snorkeling in calm waters, I’d found that even I could handle floating on the ocean’s surface while wearing a life vest. And Key West supposedly had one of the best coral reefs in the world. Marco had booked an exclusive excursion that included snorkeling off the bow of our own catamaran and then a fancy on-deck champagne dinner while we watched the sunset. One of the many things I loved about Marco—the man knew how to live in style and bring us with him.
My spirits lasted until Marco pulled the rental car into the cruise company parking lot. The name, Enchanted Cruises, nestled on the sign right under the larger name: Back Bay Dive and Sail, Inc. Crap! I couldn’t seem to get away from Walter Elkins, or at least from his companies.
Marco and Sophia scrambled out of the car, talking and laughing, oblivious to my distress, while Jonathan shot me a glance. I shrugged and dragged myself out onto the sidewalk, my peace of mind plummeting. Even the knowledge that I looked cute in my fa
vorite fuchsia bathing shorts and a fetching rainbow tee couldn’t save me from dread.
I trailed after the others into the large storefront. Apparently Enchanted Cruises was housed inside of Back Bay Dive and Sail. Diving apparel graced every wall and shelf—and behind the wide counter that ran along the back was none other than Walter Elkins, with Botticelli Miles lounging gracefully beside him. Miles brightened at the sight of me and waved. Walter gave us a glance, then scowled down at the counter. The contrast between them couldn’t have been starker.
Walter had always been broad shouldered, even in high school, but his body had become so sturdy and muscular that he appeared able to tear something or someone apart with his bare hands. He had on glasses today, much like the black-framed ones he’d worn as a teenager, and they hid the expression in his eyes. But his bushy eyebrows were drawn together, and his strong jaw, dark with a five o’clock shadow, was set grimly.
Miles—all light, his brown curls tinged with gold, his body composed of graceful curves—sported a delicate silver chain around his neck. His floral shirt rivaled mine from last night for the most posies. “Anthony! I thought this might be your party! Hello, everyone. Welcome to Enchanted Cruises.”
Marco nodded. “Thank you. And you are…?”
“I’m Miles. And this is Walter. You may remember him from the bar last night. He’s the owner.”
“Well, Walter, I’m impressed,” Marco said. “You must be a hard-working man to have so many businesses going. And all of them get rave reviews.”
Walter gave an uncomfortable nod. He darted his eyes toward me, then fixed them on Marco, clearly our resident alpha male. “You’d be the Pellegrini party? Four of you?”
Hearing Walter’s voice again affected me almost more than seeing him. I’d always loved his voice, low and sonorous with a hint of gravel echoing in that barrel chest. We all nodded. I waited for Walter to make some comment, or maybe for Jonathan to say something about how we all knew each other, but neither did. So I didn’t either.
Miles jumped in. “We’ve booked the Sundial catamaran for you. I’m so glad I’m working today. That means I’m coming with you and fixing your champagne dinner!” He winked at me, his pink-glossed lips curving in a happy smile. No one should be that pretty in real life. It was criminal.
“Sign this, please.” After pushing some paperwork over the counter toward Marco, Walter frowned at Miles. “Finish stocking the boat.”
“Yessir.” Blatantly unimpressed by Walter’s sternness, Miles executed a nautical salute more saucy than authentic and left via a back door.
Walter heaved a sigh and took the paperwork from Marco. “So have you all been snorkeling before?”
This was getting too weird for me. “Yes, Walter. Long time no see, huh? How are you, by the way?”
He flinched. Then a dull red blush crept into his face. “Fine,” he muttered. “Let me get some equipment.” And he left—stalking out the same door Miles had gone through.
Marco and Sophia gazed with interest from his vanishing figure to me. “You know him?” Sophia asked. “Oh, and I haven’t been snorkeling, but we can tell him later.”
I didn’t answer. Words failed me. I was too busy being humiliated by Walter ignoring me, like I was a tall pink elephant in the room that he was pretending didn’t exist.
Jonathan cast a worried glance at me and said, “We went to high school with him. I didn’t know him all that well, because I was a year behind, but he and Tony were… um, pretty good friends.”
“Yeah,” I croaked. “Friends. But I haven’t seen him for years.”
“Hmm,” Sophia said meaningfully.
I stared blandly back, ignoring her innuendo. “Yeah. What a coincidence, huh?”
Jonathan sidled over to me and leaned close. “Are you sure you want to stay? We can explain things to Marco and—”
“No. It’s fine. I’ll be okay.”
“Jonathan!” Marco beckoned from the other side of the shop. “Look at this mask. It’s the one I was telling you about.”
Jonathan squeezed my arm, then went to join Marco. They walked around the shop examining the equipment, Marco explaining things to Jonny with much waving of his hands, something he did when he got excited. Despite my current upset, I found it adorable when the usually self-possessed Marco got all enthusiastic—and clearly so did Jonny, who was staring at him more than at the diving gear. It kind of made me want to barf—in a totally nonjealous and nonbitter way, of course.
“What’s with you?”
Sophia’s voice jerked me away from my contemplation of the lovebirds. “What?”
“You’re acting strange. Well, stranger than usual.”
“Are you sure that’s possible, doll?” I pasted on what I hoped would pass for a carefree grin. “I’m fabulous!”
I was saved from further examination by Sophia when the back door opened and Miles stuck his head in. “We’re ready for you, guys!”
Hoping the “we” didn’t mean you-know-who, I followed the others outside to the dock. Of course, my luck being shit, Walter was already on board doing stuff that someone who was about to captain or pilot—or whatever the frig you call it when you’re the one sailing the boat—anyway, he was fiddling around, and it appeared he was going to be with us for the cruise.
I turned to Miles, who was standing closer to me than was strictly necessary. “I thought you were the one coming with us?”
“Oh, I am. But I can’t cook you dinner and sail the boat all at the same time!” He leaned in even closer and confided, “Actually, I can’t sail for shit, according to Walter. He’d never let me sail the catamaran with paying customers on board.”
“Oh.”
Miles led us onto the boat and murmured to me as we were getting settled, “You guys are getting the special treatment. Walter doesn’t usually run the cruise excursions anymore. I’m kind of surprised he’s doing it.”
“Miles.” Walter frowned at him, jerking his head in a come here gesture.
“Oops. Duty calls.” Miles gave me a wink and went to help Walter with the jibs or sails or lines or whatever.
I tried to relax and get into vacation mode. What had I told Jonathan mere hours before? I wasn’t going to give Walter Elkins one more thought! It was hard to keep that vow, though, with Walter right there, his hunky body on display, muscles bunching and lengthening as he knelt and reached and got things ready with his usual fierce concentration. Though I knew fuck all about sailing, I was willing to bet that Walter’s preparations were being done rigorously, completely, and perfectly. Even Miles had grown serious and attentive, responding to his terse directions as though it was a military operation.
Meanwhile I became aware of something happening in my body. It was the oddest thing. I’m usually a bundle of nerves and on the manic end of the energy scale. But as I watched Walter, my muscles began to loosen, like they were letting down their guard. A memory darted in of Walter, at the end of high school chemistry class, restoring everything to order in his methodical way, me chattering nonstop as I watched him, and all being right with the world. It had felt safe being around Walter. He’d taken care of everything, slowly and patiently. I could be my fluttery self—a butterfly flitting all over—because I knew he would be there when I needed to land.
Suddenly Walter lifted his eyes and gazed right at me. To my horror, I found myself smiling fondly at him, still in the glow of that long-ago time. I was probably making stupid goo-goo eyes too. He went red and dropped something on the deck with a clang.
“Walter! Watch what you’re doing!” scolded Miles with a mock scowl. He laughed, no doubt pleased that the perfect Walter had been shown to be human.
“Sorry,” Walter muttered, reapplying himself to his task.
I sat still, shaken by how easily I’d slipped into rosy Walter memories. What on earth was wrong with me? Safe? Walter was the guy who’d left me not once but twice, and so callously that I’d been protecting myself from love ever since. Scr
ew him!
I tore my gaze away and caught Sophia watching me with a small smile. She leaned forward and whispered, “Anytime you want to tell me what that’s all about, feel free.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, doll.”
“Okay. If that’s how you want to play it.” She leaned back and lifted her face to the sun. “Ah. It’s so awesome to be back in the sunshine.”
Marco lounged in his seat, looking fucking stupendous, his arm around Jonathan, who rested his head on Marco’s shoulder. I must have been rattled by Walter’s reappearance, because my walls suddenly cracked. Pain lanced through me, and I stopped kidding myself that I wasn’t pea green with envy. I so was.
I froze for a moment, stunned at myself. Could this be true? Could Anthony the Player be merely the facade, while underneath I wanted what Jonny had? Not that I wanted Marco for myself, but was I pining for a man to hold me like that and let me rest my head on his shoulder? All signs pointed to yes. How embarrassing! And how completely unlikely.
The boat pushed away from the dock with Walter standing at the wheel, steering it through the harbor. To my disgust, his confident stance gave me a flutter. Apparently I was no better than Pavlov’s dog as far as Walter was concerned. Miles came to sit beside me, a welcome distraction in all his golden beauty. I eyed his shoulders. Hmm. Much too slim for my needs. What was I even thinking? Miles was a kid, a pretty young thing. And I was as old as Methuselah.
“So tell me about yourself.” Miles let his thigh sit snugly against mine.
“Well, hon, that’s a dangerous question. It could lead to so many embarrassing revelations!”
“Even better.” Miles smirked. “Where are you from?”
“Boston.”
“Really? Dude, I’m from Boston too!”
“No!”
“Well, originally. I’ve been out of there since I was fifteen.” A shadow crossed his face.
“That alternative school?” I guessed.
His eyes widened. “You remembered that?” He moved closer until we were all but snuggling. “Yeah, my parents sent me to this boarding school in upstate New York. Supposed to be good for kids struggling with ‘alternative lifestyles.’ It was a freaking prison. Once I graduated, I never went back home. I took off for New York City.”
In Over Our Heads Page 3