Abby woke with a groan, the sound of knocking reverberating around her. It couldn’t be Aunt Macey making that noise. The older woman didn’t have the fist strength. Sure enough, Maryann entered Abby’s bedroom only moments after practically banging down the door.
“There you are.”
Abby sat up and adjusted the comforter around her knees. “Where else would I be?”
Maryann cocked her perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “We both know the answer to that question.”
Abby waved her comment away at the same time a furious flush filled her body. So she’d spent a couple of hours with a dreamy man. Didn’t mean anything. Especially because he was checking out of Rockrose in only four more nights.
“So?” Maryann reached back to braid her dark hair. Abby realized it was damp.
“So you rushed right over here before you even finished getting ready?”
“You wouldn’t answer my texts!” Maryann smiled after her mock outrage. “I even called.”
Abby glanced at her phone, which she mostly kept on silent. Of course, she’d only given her number to six people since moving to Mimosa Key. Well, seven, as she’d typed it into Noah’s phone near midnight, just before she’d escaped into the cool beach air and headed home.
“So?” Maryann nudged her knee. “You and Noah Benson?”
“No.” Abby shook her head. “He doesn’t live here. He’s only here for a conference.”
“Even better.” Maryann waggled her eyebrows like Abby was the type of woman who enjoyed a quick fling.
Abby rolled her eyes. “Not my thing.”
“Are you sure?”
“Very.” Abby hadn’t come straight to the island after she’d left LA in the dead of night. But Maryann didn’t need to know all the details. She’d lived next door to Aunt Macey for years, and Abby had been friends with her for the better part of two decades. The summers and weekends she’d spent on Mimosa Key had always been special to her, and they were the biggest reason she’d come to Florida after her flight from LA, Marcus, the media, everything.
But Maryann had never left the island, had bought her parents’ home, and taken over her mother’s successful piano business. She’d married a motorcycle mechanic who had a shop in Naples, and they seemed happy.
Happier than Abby had ever been with Marcus.
Noah flashed through her mind, along with the thought of being happy with him. “What time is it?”
“Seven-thirty.” Maryann didn’t miss much. “Late for a date with the vet?”
“As a matter of fact, I am.” Abby pushed the blanket off her legs and stood. “We’re meeting to discuss business.”
Maryann snorted. “Is that what you’re calling it these days?”
“Calling what?” Abby pushed hangers to the side in her closet, looking for something that said soft but professional.
“Sex.”
Abby’s breath caught somewhere behind her lungs. “Give me some credit.” She glanced over her shoulder. “He wants to open a veterinary clinic, and I happen to have a business management degree.”
“You do?”
Abby tried not to flinch at the incredulity in her friend’s tone. “I went to Cal State for four years. I have a degree.” So she’d never used it for more than managing her upward climb on the social scene in LA. So what? Didn’t mean she couldn’t help Noah with a business plan for his animal clinic.
“Sounds like a fake meeting.” Maryann stood and headed for the door. “And I can’t wait to hear all about it. But I have students waiting for me. Glad to see you’re still alive.” She added a hearty laugh to the statement and left.
Abby collapsed back on the bed. Maybe she was fooling herself. Noah wasn’t any more of a veterinarian than she was an office manager. But they’d gotten to talking last night about what he wanted to do, why he’d come to the conference at Casa Blanca, and the next thing she knew, she’d offered to “help him put together a business plan.”
There had been no kissing, and she’d left the villa filled with heat and wanting and if she were being completely honest, fear.
She didn’t know what she wanted, but she knew it was time to grow up and decide. Knew it wasn’t scrubbing bathrooms and stripping beds for the next thirty years. And though she also knew she couldn’t have Noah, she wanted the next four days with him.
Four days.
That wasn’t too much to ask for, was it?
Noah entered the convenience store that faced the first intersection he encountered upon arriving back on the island. He’d slept restlessly, finally getting up before dawn and heading across the causeway to the mainland. No purpose. No destination. Just driving.
His head had cleared a little, but now he needed caffeine. He did not need the wiry woman standing behind the cash register, watching his every move with her beady eyes.
“Two dollars,” she said when he set his coffee cup on the counter. He dug in his shorts for the cash, berating himself for not having it ready. He’d stopped here yesterday on his way in too, and the same woman had been here. She had to be in her seventies, and he wondered if she ever left.
“Are you just here for vacation?” she asked.
“Veterinary conference,” he said.
“Oh, you’re an animal doctor?”
He slid the money across the counter. “Sure am.” He picked up his coffee cup and turned to leave.
“You know, Doctor Hanks is about to retire.”
Noah turned back, shock traveling through him. This woman didn’t seem like the type to help others, but she probably did know everything that happened on this island.
“Doctor Hanks?”
“He’s the veterinarian on Mimosa Key. His grandfather was one of the original founders of the island, but sadly, Albert is childless.” She didn’t seem too sad about that, but Noah didn’t care if the man had children or not.
“Where might I find Doctor Hanks?” he asked.
The woman narrowed his eyes. “I thought you said you already were a veterinarian.”
“I am.” Sort of. There was a lot of work to do before he could actually practice, but this busybody didn’t need to know that.
“You don’t have a practice somewhere?”
“I’m looking to relocate.”
Her eyebrows shot toward her hairline. “To Mimosa Key?”
“If it fits,” he said, thinking only of Abby. She hadn’t said as much, but he’d guessed her situation here on the island wasn’t permanent. She was the reason he’d barely been able to sleep, and she was the reason he’d started considering opening his own practice.
And now this woman was practically handing him a clinic right here on the island. She folded her arms, and Noah amended his thought. She wasn’t going to say another word. Didn’t matter. He could Google as well as anyone, and he flashed her a tight smile.
“What’s your name?” he asked. “I might be here for a while, and we might become friends.”
She scoffed and turned away from him. “I doubt that.” But when she twisted back to him, a tiny glimmer of hope rode in her eyes. “But my name’s Charity Grambling.”
He tipped his coffee cup to her and walked out, mentally rearranging the list of things he needed to go over with Abby to put Dr. Albert Hanks right at the top.
An hour later, he stepped out of the master bedroom to the sound of her voice calling, “Housekeeping.”
He moved swiftly to the door and pulled it open, taking in the glorious sight of the pixie-haired blonde who had somehow attached herself to his heart when he wasn’t looking. Or even expecting to feel anything for another woman for a long time.
She wore a pair of jeans that seemed painted on, and when she glanced down he lost sight of her ocean-colored eyes because of those thick eyelashes. “I have to do that,” she said. “Don’t want anyone thinking the wrong thing.” She waited for him to move, but when he didn’t, she just edged into his personal space, her purple tank top swelling in all the right places.
“I’m not even wearing my uniform,” she said. “But Mandy made it clear I was getting paid. So…” She let the sentence hang there, and any fantasies Noah had entertained—and there had been plenty—about kissing her during their meeting vanished.
“I requested you,” he said.
“I know.” She slipped out of his grip like smoke, and his fingers fisted in a futile attempt to keep her close. Abby spun back toward him, teasing him with that delicious smile on her lips. “So, Noah Benson. How does a snowboarder have the funds to rent a villa like this? Or request a maid for the morning?”
Noah prowled after her, suddenly not caring if she was getting paid while he kissed her. At the same time, he didn’t know how to answer her question. He knew the answer, sure. He just didn’t want to tell her, because it would only spur more questions, and he’d lose an hour or more explaining why he was here on the beach instead of in Wyoming on the slopes.
“Luck,” he said, hoping she’d drop the subject.
Her eyebrows inched upward. “Oh yeah? Well, I don’t think you’re going to get lucky today.” She turned and set her laptop bag on the kitchen counter. She had the computer out and the lid open before Noah slid his arms around her waist.
He slowly inhaled the scent of her skin—something with pineapple and powder. He wanted to smell that every morning when he woke up with her right next to him. The strength of his feelings surprised him, but not as much as the way Abby seemed to melt into his embrace.
Noah placed a soft kiss in the hollow of her neck, right where her skin sloped into her shoulder. One of her hands lifted and drifted through his hair as a sigh passed through her body.
“You’re not on the clock until eight-thirty,” he whispered, trailing his lips along her earlobe. A quick glance at the clock on the microwave said he had two minutes to get his mouth on hers.
She helped him by twisting in his arms and placing her hand on the side of his face. “Do you believe in love at first sight?” she murmured, her eyes cemented to his mouth.
“Yes,” he said, unsure if that would bring her closer or push her farther away. He must’ve answered correctly, because her eyes drifted closed and she held very still.
Over her shoulder, the clock flipped to eight-twenty-nine. Noah lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers, drinking her in, soaking her up, losing himself in her touch.
5
Abby received Noah’s kiss willingly, her thoughts tumbling for the first few seconds his lips captured hers. Then she managed to eradicate the constant barrage of Do you like this? Do you like him? Do you believe in love at first sight? and just enjoyed the warmth of his mouth, the taste of his tongue, the weight of his body next to hers.
The kiss seemed to last a lot longer than the two minutes they had, but Noah finally pulled back, a growl rumbling deep in his throat. Abby had barely opened her eyes when he kissed her again, dragging his mouth from hers to sample her neck and ears. She held onto his shoulders and let him kiss her, because she hadn’t felt fire like the inferno raging through her bloodstream in too long.
She wasn’t sure when he’d stopped kissing her, because her nerve endings buzzed with white-hot energy and made her senses slow.
“I think you’re beautiful, Abby,” he said, tucking the point Gloria spent several long minutes perfecting every time Abby went into the salon behind her ear.
She didn’t know how to respond, so she simply tucked herself into his chest and wrapped her arms around his athletic body. She didn’t think she ever wanted to date another athlete, and yet, her heart had tripped over itself from the moment she’d set eyes on Noah.
Besides, you’re not dating, she told herself as she and Noah breathed in together and out in sync. He’ll only be here for four more days.
And while she fantasized about falling in love at first sight, she knew fairy tales like that would never happen to her. Sure, when she lived in LA, she may have believed in those whimsical dreams. She may have even lived inside one or two for a summer. But while the setting beyond Noah’s windows was picturesque and tropical and the perfect backdrop for romance, Abby’s reality here was anything but ideal.
She recalled the thought as she stepped out of Noah’s embrace, a flicker of embarrassment quenching the flames still roaring inside her. She loved Aunt Macey, and Maryann, and Mandy. None of them had asked endless questions about why she’d shown up with two suitcases and a new haircut after five years away from the island.
“So I heard something interesting this morning,” Noah said, beginning the meeting, she supposed.
“What’s that?”
“The lady at the convenience store said—”
“The Super Min?”
Noah met her eye, question marks in his. “I guess.”
“Did you talk to Charity?”
“Yeah, Charity.”
“You can’t believe anything she says,” Abby said, reaching for an apple from the bowl of fruit on the counter. “She isn’t out to help anyone but herself.”
“She said Doctor Hanks is retiring.”
Abby dropped the honey crisp, her mouth going with it. “Really?”
“Well, I haven’t verified anything, but I figured that’s where we should start.”
Where we should start.
This didn’t sound like a four-day gig. He’d asked for “housekeeping” for a few hours this morning, and she’d thought maybe he’d invite her to dinner. Heck, if he didn’t ask her, she’d been planning to take him to a joint mostly frequented by the locals with great Mexican food.
Familiar fear rose up her throat, choking her. Abby backed up a few steps, trying to decide if she was ready for something that would last more than four days.
Then Noah’s fingers filled the spaces between hers, and the hurricane inside her calmed.
“I lost you,” he said, concern in each syllable.
“I’m fine.” She accepted the apple he’d retrieved but didn’t take a bite. “So you want to go see Doctor Hanks?”
“I figure it’s worth the time,” Noah said. “This island isn’t very big and certainly there isn’t a need for two animal clinics. But if he’s selling his…” He lifted one powerful shoulder into a shrug. “Maybe I could stay here.”
“You really want to stay here on Mimosa Key?”
“I don’t want to go back to Jackson Hole.” Noah slipped his fingers from hers and retreated from her, probably because he realized that he’d slipped and told her more than he had in a couple hours of conversation the previous night.
“What did you leave in Jackson Hole?” she asked.
“I already told you. A fiancé.”
“That’s a who,” Abby said, pressing the issue. “I asked what you left behind in Jackson.”
A shadow crossed Noah’s face. Everything in him bunched tight and then all at once, he slumped. “A ski resort, complete with the high-end lodge, which had been operating in the black for decades. It came with the fiancé. Sort of.” He frowned and shook his head as if to make things align.
Abby’s heart clenched with need to erase the anger in his disposition, the heartbreak on his face, the agony in his demeanor.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Her father was like a dad to me,” Noah said. “I didn’t—my dad—I never knew my father. He only stuck around long enough to decide he didn’t want me or my sister. But Lucas Rust took me in while I was drifting after vet school, and told me I could be his backcountry guide, and loaned me the twelve grand it takes for the training.”
Abby sensed that every word Noah spoke cost him a great deal, so she plucked off a handful of grapes and watched him.
“He trained me in everything. The finances for the resort and lodge. Housekeeping.” He gave her a tip of his head. “Lift maintenance. All of it. He told me when he retired, the Lion’s Creek
Lodge would be mine.”
“And then he gave it to his daughter.”
“No, then he died without a will.”
Noah’s pain seemed endless, and he wondered if he’d ever be able to think about Lucas without this band of pressure across his chest, that pinch in his lungs. He turned away from the sympathy and concern in Abby’s eyes. He’d hated how the other employees of the lodge had looked at him—the way she was now. Hated having to tell his mother he wouldn’t be inheriting the lodge—oh, and by the way, Jules had called off the wedding.
She hadn’t given back his diamond ring either, seemingly determined to take everything from him. He wasn’t sure if her keeping the ring made him still engaged or just plain stupid.
“Jules—that was my fiancé and Lucas’s daughter—had been in her father’s office at least a dozen times when he promised me Lion’s Creek. She never said a word.” Not until her father had died. Then she’d stepped up to claim the prize Noah had worked eight years for. A resort and lodge she didn’t even like, had never worked in, and knew nothing about.
He shrugged and pulled out his laptop. “Doesn’t matter. Let’s talk about the clinic.”
Abby’s delicate fingers curled around his forearm and she leaned into him. “It does matter. I’m really sorry, Noah.”
He expected her to ask him why he didn’t just find a job at another lodge, or open his own, or head to Maine instead of Florida. She didn’t. Just scooted her computer next to his and started outlining the plans she’d made for his clinic.
Noah marveled at her attention to detail as he looked at the five-year financial plan like he understood what it meant. But he’d never run an animal clinic before. But the more she talked, the more charts she showed him—she even had sketches of signs and slogans—the more running a clinic sounded like running a ski resort and upscale lodge.
His stomach growled, the only indication that hours had gone by. One glance at the clock showed that the time he’d requested from housekeeping had come and gone long ago.
“I’ll call housekeeping and let them know I kept you longer.”
Barefoot Bay_Shelter Me Page 3