Resort to Love

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Resort to Love Page 9

by Priscilla Oliveras


  He had. He simply hadn’t chosen her.

  As she led Nate down the red clay-tiled hall to the back door, Sofía assured herself that she was fine. Tía Mili had loved and lost Tío David, her soulmate, and she’d survived. Even better, she ran her own company and lived a full life with friends and familia.

  What Sofía and Nate had shared couldn’t compare to that. With her and Nate, it’d been strictly fun and games. Brief escapes from the stress of their separate lives.

  While he was here or, if she made it back to Paradise Key for the Land Planning Agency meeting on Monday where interested parties were scheduled to give a brief presentation on their bid, she could do friends. At arm’s length.

  It was a solid plan. One she felt comfortable with. Right up until they entered her bungalow...and it hit her that the two of them would have to share her queen-sized bed.

  “Make yourself at home,” Sofía said as she ushered Nate inside.

  After a quick glance around her modest bungalow, she realized he had already done so.

  His duffle sat on the tile floor at the foot of her bed. His sunglasses rested on the breakfast bar next to her key bowl. His laptop and a leather folio notebook lay on the coffee table in front of the loveseat, waiting for him to get to work. Which he’d apparently neglected while helping Paul.

  “Feel free to grab a snack from the fridge or pantry if you’re hungry. I mean, hopefully Paul showed you around the kitchen at the main house and fed you lunch before he practically added you to the payroll. Can’t believe that happened. Anyway, I’m going to wash up and then maybe—”

  “Sof.”

  Nate said her name softly, the husky sound stopping the deluge of words tumbling uncontrollably out of her mouth.

  Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, willing herself to find the sense of calm determination that made her great at her job. As a manager, she handled the daily idiosyncrasies at three B&Bs teeming with guests and a full staff. Ask anyone and they’d confirm she was seldom ruffled, rarely uncertain, and never prone to babbling.

  All three of which she currently battled.

  “It’s going to be okay.” The confidence in his voice washed over her like a warm ocean wave, soothing her frazzled nerves. “I know you’re dealing with stressful situations right now. Trying to pull your resort bid together, Sal’s health scare, running the three properties on your own while he and Vivi focus on his recovery. But you’ve proven there’s nothing you can’t do. Ever. Especially with your knack for inspiring those around you. Including me.”

  Her next breath picked up a hint of his woodsy cologne, the musky undertone teasing her senses. Her skin prickled, alerting her to his nearness. Sofía opened her eyes to find Nate barely a step away.

  Afraid she might close the distance between them and sink into the comfort he offered, despite knowing how fleeting it might be, Sofía backed up. Her shoulders bumped against the front door.

  Nate stopped, his expression calm, his voice conciliatory as he put his hands palms up, facing her. “Look, no strings here. That’s what you’ve always wanted. I get it.”

  Dios, could he really be that dense? After all these years, had he really not picked up on how much she cared for him?

  Then again, that should be good news. Her secret was safe. Her pride intact.

  “We both have full plates right now,” Nate continued.

  “Which is why you have no business folding towels or giving directions to the nearest bike rental shop.”

  “But I’m good at both of those things. Wait until your guests ask me about dinner reservation suggestions.”

  “No.” Sofía shook her head. Sidestepping him, she strode toward the bath across from her small kitchen, on the back side of the square bungalow. “You don’t need to be working behind the front desk again.”

  “Relegating me to dish duty already?”

  “Not even that.”

  “Bed changing or vacuuming?”

  “Stoooop!” She drew out the word as she swung around, unable to quell the smile his playfulness brought to her lips.

  Nate stood by the door, hands deep in the side pockets of his khaki shorts, grinning at her.

  Ay, if that look didn’t weaken a girl’s resolve, nothing would. She knew better, though, and wouldn’t go down without a fight.

  “Let’s be clear with each other, all of this that’s going on here is...” She moved her hands in circular motions in front of her as if she were mixing dominoes on a table top. “It’s...well, I’m not sure what it is.” She dropped her arms at her side, frustrated with her inability to put a label on what they were doing. “Look, I appreciate all you’ve done last night and today. I do. But you have your own work and responsibilities to deal with. Sal and Vivi have some big decisions to make in the wake of his heart attack. Those decisions affect me and my future. They affect Paul. They affect everyone on my staff, and I can’t afford to be distracted right now.”

  “So I’m a distraction, huh?” His wink told her he knew he was provoking her ire. His move to pick up his laptop and settle on the loveseat also let her know he wouldn’t push. “Sof, I don’t have to be anywhere until Friday afternoon. If you can use some untethered help, I’m all yours.”

  He opened his laptop, then tapped the keyboard to illuminate his screen.

  “Aren’t you going to get some rest?” she asked. He had to be running on empty. She was, and she’d napped during their drive down.

  “In a minute. There are a few emails I want to respond to, hit the ball back in their court.” He glanced up at her for a hot second, then dropped his gaze to his laptop again. “Grab a shower. Unless things have changed, you always sleep better after a warm bath.”

  ¡Increíble! Sofía barely kept her irritated growl from escaping.

  Incredible, indeed! How was it possible for him to know what helped her relax in the evenings, yet have no clue about how much she had loved him? Had, because no way could she allow herself to feel that deeply or be hurt to that degree again.

  Nate’s absolute thick-headedness reminded her of Mami’s complaint one year when Papi forgot their anniversary. “¡Ese hombre tiene una inteligencia inmensa construyendo cosas, pero para cosas del amor, Dios me ayude!”

  Yes, Papi was incredibly intelligent when it came to building things, like Nate was with buying actual buildings. Unfortunately, both men were occasionally challenged with matters involving love. Mami’s pleas for God to help her deal had been made in jest, but they’d been answered when Papi surprised her with a romantic dinner at her favorite restaurant.

  At this point in her life, Sofía would choose Nate folding towels for her guests over a romantic night out. But even that made her leery.

  “What?” Nate’s brows met in a perplexed frown as he shot her a confused look, and she realized she’d wasted several minutes blankly staring at him typing away on his keyboard.

  “Um, nothing.” She shook her head, trying to wake her brain from its stupor. “Just thinking about a few things I need to check before we head back to the hospital.”

  “Okay,” he mumbled, already lost again in whatever he’d started reading.

  Without another word, Sofía grabbed a change of clothes from her dresser along the left front wall, dropped her tote bag on the breakfast bar, then hit the bath.

  Minutes later, after not nearly long enough under the warm shower spray, she threw on a comfortable tee and black leggings. Removing the claw clip from her hair so it wouldn’t bug her when she napped, she left the bathroom.

  “Are you sure you’re not hungry—” Sofía broke off as soon as she saw Nate, chin dropped to his chest, fast asleep still sitting upright on the couch, his laptop propped in front of him.

  Relaxed, the tired lines smoothed from his handsome face, making him appear younger. Almost vulnerable—a word he probably wouldn’t choose to define himself.

  As much as he talked about all that she juggled, she knew he was in the same position. Expectations, respo
nsibilities, personal goals, and a slew of people depending on them.

  Only, she didn’t have a hard-ass father poking and prodding and picking at her every move.

  No, she had Papi, always supportive and quick to tell her how proud he was of her. And Sal, a father-figure in his own way. Both were men who’d give anybody the shirt off their backs. Unlike Nathan’s dad, who found fault with nearly everything his son did and was more prone to write someone a check to go buy their own shirt, as if his money was the solution to everything.

  Nathan Hamilton, II, rarely acknowledged his son’s brilliance. Oftentimes, Sofía felt his father’s shadow loomed too large over Nate, making it difficult for him to forge his own way. He deserved better.

  As if sensing the agitation churning within her, Nate stirred. His computer shifted, in danger of sliding off his lap.

  Basta, she chided herself, enough fretting over a situation she couldn’t change. If she didn’t get Nate to lie down, he’d wind up with a crick in his neck and his back out of sorts. That was no way to thank him for all his help.

  “Nate, come on,” she whispered, moving his laptop and setting it next to the tropical-scented candle on her coffee table. She put a hand on his shoulder to give him a gentle shake. “Let’s move you to the bed.”

  “Um-hmm, join me.” His drowsy attempt at a sexy grin wound up making him look more like a mischievous little boy.

  Sofía chuckled—always working an angle, this one.

  “Easy,” she murmured when he stumbled into her trying to rise from the loveseat.

  One hand on his forearm, the other wrapped around his waist, she guided him to the bed. Her pulse picked up its pace, her body tingling in places it shouldn’t at the idea of sleeping next to him again.

  “Here you go.” She eased him down on the mattress edge, and he collapsed onto her duvet.

  Rolling on his side, he burrowed his head and shoulder into the pillow. Within seconds, he was asleep, his lips curving at whatever pleasure danced in his dreams.

  Sofía slipped off his Sperrys, then rounded the bed to gingerly lie down beside him. Mimicking Nate’s position, she rolled onto her left shoulder to face him. She reached out, leaving her hand hovering in the air between them. Longing pierced her chest, a cascade of pleasure-pain rippling through her.

  Ay, she imagined her fingertips brushing across his forehead, down his chiseled cheekbones, along his square jaw, and around the outline of his full lips. Feeling what she’d only imagined in her mind in the long months since they’d last seen each other. Tasting what she’d robbed herself of by holding to her principles.

  But she didn’t trust herself to stop with a simple touch. Not when her body remembered the flare of passion and how amazing it had always been between them. Nate took her to heights she’d never reached with another man. Part of her feared it would always be that way for her.

  And yet, she missed more than just the sex. It was like he reached her on a different level. Nate had almost always been there for her during her darkest times—when she’d called bullshit on the owners of the South Beach resort after they’d promoted their idiot nephew instead of her and she’d threatened to quit, when Abuela suffered her stroke and passed away before Sofía could get to Puerto Rico to say good-bye, and now all of this.

  Unfortunately, “all of this” was worse than Nate even knew.

  Her bid for the resort was in real jeopardy. No way could she expect Sal to jump into another business proposition considering the stress involved. Vivi had mentioned wanting them to get out of the B&B business, fully retire.

  Sofía was scared. Not only was she facing the loss of her dream to own the resort, but also potentially the loss of her current job. Her throat tightened with unshed tears—of frustration and disappointment. But she refused to let them fall. They wouldn’t do any good.

  She needed to talk options out with someone. In the past, that would have been Sal or Nate. Her mentor wasn’t an option this time. Maybe...

  Maybe she needed to stop fighting Nate, and herself. Stop pushing away the help he offered. If they couldn’t be what she had once hoped, maybe friendship and mutual support could be enough. Certainly better than the nothing she’d had over the past two years.

  Satisfied with her logic, or at least trying to convince herself she was, Sofía placed her hand over Nate’s on the duvet between them. A sense of calm seeped over her as her eyes closed.

  She drifted to sleep, strengthened by their connection. Relieved to have him beside her. At least for now.

  Chapter Nine

  Nate woke to the incredible sensation of Sofía’s warm body pressed against his side, her head resting on his chest. Her spicy floral scent teased and excited him, the same way Sofía did whenever he was around her. Or thought of her.

  His cell buzzed in his shorts pocket. Thankfully it stopped almost as soon as it started indicating he’d received a text message. Moving as little as possible to avoid rousing Sofía, since she needed her sleep and he needed to keep her at his side as long as possible, he dug out his phone.

  One-handed, he pecked out his security code with his left thumb, then tapped the message icon to see his father’s name at the top of the list, followed by two other key players involved with the Sarasota property. Those should take priority, but his father would continue hammering away like an annoying woodpecker if Nate didn’t respond.

  Where the hell are you?

  Kind of close to how the hell are you. A guy could almost say his dad was showing how much he cared. Yeah, right.

  Nate smirked, his thumb doing gymnastics across the small screen as he typed.

  Off the grid. Working deals. It’s all good.

  His father hated it when Nate tossed out that phra—

  Cut the crap and foolishness. Don’t make me send someone else to do your job.

  Damn, the man had a knack for interrupting him even when they weren’t face to face. It took talent. Or ego.

  Nate sighed. The rise and fall of his chest on the disgruntled breath had Sofía snuggling closer. Her dark hair tickled his chin, and he moved his right hand to stroke the silky tresses.

  As much as he wanted to stay here being a pillow for her, duty called. He needed to follow up with his Sarasota contacts. Fingers crossed his gamble would pay off.

  Supporting Sofía’s head with one hand, Nate slid out from under her, deftly replacing his body with the king-sized pillow he’d been laying on.

  Sofía mumbled a complaint. She stretched in her sleep, the motion pulling her peach T-shirt taut over her full breasts. Settling back to sleep, she crooked a knee, giving him an enticing view of her shapely butt and thighs in her sexy black leggings. Her fuchsia-painted toes were a splash of color against the cream-colored duvet. The same way she and her personality added a splash of color in what had been a dull life without her the past two years.

  Blood coursed low in Nate’s body, his response instinctive and swift, as it always was when it came to her. And only her. When he’d been a randy teen, he had struggled with how to control his physical reaction to her. Not wanting to risk moving too fast.

  Back then, he’d chalked it up to youthful hormones. Though as time went by and his attraction only intensified, he’d come to realize it was much more than that. Everything about Sofía drew him. Excited him. Comforted him. Made him want to be better.

  His phone vibrated again, reminding Nate he hadn’t responded to his father’s latest not-so-veiled threat.

  Padding over to the fridge to grab a bottle of water, he paused to type.

  Nice try. No one else can handle what I’m putting together for our company. Working on final details & will send when I’m ready. I’ll be in touch.

  Subtext—stop henpecking. Not that his father had ever been any good at subtext. Or caring about it, anyway.

  Then, because he hadn’t called his mom in a few days, Nate fired off a message to her.

  I’m helping a friend & working a few business angles. Tell him
to back off. Will call you soon. Love.

  Pressing the side button to lock his screen, Nate slid his phone back into his pocket. He reached for the black plastic handle on the side-by-side fridge door, but paused when his gaze caught on a red magnetic photo frame with five cutouts for pictures. He slid his gaze from one photo to the other, each depicting a facet of the familia Sofía held dear.

  The first captured her with the four other girls when they were in their late teens, hanging out by the pool at Paradise Key Resort. The Fabulous Five-some. So different from each other in looks and personality, yet closer than many sisters.

  There was a recent pic of Sofía, her parents, and two younger brothers. The Spanish fort El Morro in Old San Juan and the expansive grassy area surrounding it behind them. Arms around each other, huge grins splitting their tanned faces.

  Another showed Sofía, Sal, and Vivi at a local Cuban restaurant on Mallory Square where tourists flocked to admire the famous Key West sunset.

  A fourth, older picture, had a young Sofía, arms around Tía Mili and a man Nate recognized was her late husband Tío David enjoying a family picnic at some park. Probably in Miami where Mili and David had lived before moving to Paradise Key.

  The final space was empty. Either a photo recently removed or the spot yet to be filled.

  Nate knew whose picture he wanted to slide between the magnetic frame and the fridge. One of him and Sofía. Another facet of her familia tableau. But that wasn’t his decision to make.

  Of course, that didn’t mean he couldn’t do everything in his power to convince her he was worth taking a chance on again.

  For that to happen, he had to get to work.

  After snagging a water bottle from the fridge, he picked up his laptop and leather notebook, then headed outside to make some calls.

 

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