by Angela Evans
“Do we know if the kid is traveling with a nanny or something?” Brett asked.
“The kid is the wild card in this whole thing.” Michael didn’t like having any variable unknown. “Baxter has the same attitude about protecting the kid as he has about protecting himself. He’s just a good ol’ boy who made it big and still thinks all this”—Michael gestured to himself and Brett—“is ridiculous and unnecessary.”
“One day he’ll see how wrong he is.” Brett pushed his chair back and went in search of another cup of coffee.
Michael looked out the window toward the bay and tried to focus on work instead of thinking about how soon he could rush to Leslie and drag her back to bed. Glancing at the beach, he did a double-take before pushing his chair back, sending it clanging against the floor in his haste. Rushing to the window, he glanced up and down the beach, but she was gone.
“What have you got?” Brett asked with his raised eyebrow.
“There’s this weird woman. I’ve seen her a handful of times now and something about her is…off.” Michael struggled to find the words to describe her and couldn’t put his finger on it. “She was on my plane, then she seemed to be following me through the airport.”
That got Brett’s attention. “She followed you?”
Michael hesitated. Had she been following him, or had it just seemed that way? “Honestly, I don’t know. She just keeps popping up wherever I am.”
“Did you get a photo?” Brett asked the question Michael would have if their roles were reversed.
“No.” He was kicking himself for not pressing the issue now.
Brett looked skeptical. “So you don’t know if she was following you?” Brett looked out the window too. “Did you sleep at all last night?”
“Shut up. This has nothing to do with that.” Michael turned away from the window, dismissing his friend and employee. He was not going to talk about Leslie.
“That? Don’t you mean her?” Brett asked.
“I don’t know what I mean, but either way, I’m not talking with you, or anyone else, about it.” Michael went back to the table where they’d spread out their plans and tried to figure out whether the mysterious woman was something to worry about or not.
* * *
“Amelia, he’s exquisite!” Leslie exclaimed as she held baby Parker. His tiny fingers gripped her pinkie with more strength than a newborn should have, but he was Blake Dexter’s son. That man defied logic in many ways, she thought with a smile.
“Thank you.” Amelia was tired—Leslie could see that in the way her head rested on the pillow as though she didn’t have the energy to lift it—but she radiated happiness and contentment. “He’s as stubborn as his daddy. I didn’t think he was ever going to get here.”
“Babies come in their own time.” Leslie realized she sounded like a veteran mom who had been around the block, and suddenly, holding her own babies in the hospital seemed like a lifetime ago. She was only a handful of years older than Amelia, but she felt like she’d lived a lifetime longer sometimes.
“So distract me from thinking about how tired I am and tell me something that’s happened in the world in the last day and a half while I was giving birth,” Amelia commanded. Her smile didn’t look so tired now.
Leslie knew exactly where her friend was headed. “Like what?”
“Come on!” Amelia thumped the mattress next to her leg. “What’s happening with the hot bodyguard?”
“That’s my cue to get more coffee.” Dex, Amelia’s hunky FBI agent husband, was just walking in the door with two cups of coffee, but he turned on his heel and left again.
“You don’t have to leave!” Leslie called but got no response.
“Spill it,” Amelia demanded, completely ignoring her husband.
“Spill what?” she asked, but all that got her was a look of exasperation from Amelia. The truth was, Leslie was dying to talk to someone about Michael, so she gave in. “He’s ridiculously amazing.”
“At what?” Amelia asked with a raised eyebrow.
She didn’t even know where to begin. “Everything? He calls all the time, texts me when he can’t call. I think we talked every day while he was gone. When he got to the house to pick me up yesterday, he even helped me put the boys to bed!”
“I’m so glad! You deserve amazing!” Amelia practically clapped, she was so excited.
“I don’t know.” Leslie shook her head.
“What don’t you know?” Amelia reached for her baby, who was starting to make noises about wanting to eat.
After carefully placing the newborn in his mother’s waiting arms, Leslie paced around the small hospital room. “I don’t know. About any of it, I guess. I mean, what’s the point? He’ll go back to New York after the wedding, and we’ll never see each other again. Which I’m fine with because I don’t need anyone coming in and making a mess of our lives. I have the boys and my mother to think about. I don’t need a husband—” She stopped in her tracks when she realized what she’d said.
“Husband?”
“I didn’t mean that,” she said quickly.
“Are you sure?” Amelia asked softly.
Leslie sank down into a chair. “Oh my gosh, what have I done?”
“I’m thinking maybe you fell in love with the hunky bodyguard?” Amelia said what Leslie had been afraid to even think. She’d definitely fallen in love with the hunky bodyguard. “Hey, don’t freak out. It’s okay!”
“I’m not sure it is.”
“Does he love you?”
Leslie looked at her friend and shook her head. “I have no idea.”
“If he’s anything like me, it’ll probably take a brick to the side of his head to get him to realize it.” Dex was back in the doorway, smiling as he looked at his wife and newborn in the bed. He spared a glance for Leslie before he added, “Us guys take to this love business a little slower, so give him some time to catch up.”
A couple of minutes later, Leslie pressed kisses to Amelia and Dex’s cheeks and a softer kiss to the top of little Parker’s head before promising to call Amelia soon, then she slipped out the door. Leslie felt the need to be alone to sort through her thoughts. She loved Amelia and Dex, and now Parker, but her relationship with Michael was something she needed to process alone.
In the quiet of her parked car, she switched on the air conditioner and turned off the radio. The leather of the seat was warm on the backs of her legs, and the sun was hot on her face through the windshield.
She was in love with Michael Duncan. The thought swirled around in her mind on repeat. Her initial panic had faded, and she felt herself not only accept it but begin to let it settle in and get comfortable.
She’d fallen in love with Michael.
At that moment, as if he knew she needed to touch base with him, her phone chirped his ring tone to let her know she’d received a text. She lifted her phone from her pocket and smiled. He was just checking in, touching base, seeing if she was okay. Most of all, she knew he was letting her know he was thinking about her, and that was what she loved the most.
Loved.
She loved Michael.
With a smile, she sent a quick reply to let him know she couldn’t wait to see him again.
* * *
Leslie stood in the center of Barefoot Brides venue and did another run through her mental checklist. The reception area was like an open breezeway just off the beach, tables surrounded a small dance floor, and a stage was off to one side. The setting gave the bride and groom shelter from the sand and surf, and provided a romantic setting for their first dance, and cutting of the cake. The wedding day was tomorrow. Somewhere in the resort, Michael was locking down security before Dani and Baxter arrived by private helicopter this afternoon.
She’d gotten a couple of quick texts from him, but that was all there had been time for. She had spent one night with Michael, and then two nights without him and her bed had felt cold and empty sleeping alone. She kept hoping to catch a glimpse of h
im now that she had reason to be at the resort.
Michael surely had his hands full keeping the guests away from the camera lens of a money-hungry photographer. Word was that the tabloids were paying six figures for a shot of the bride or groom before they exchanged vows.
Leslie shook her head. The things some people placed a value on would never cease to amaze her. She couldn’t help but wonder if the fascination with Dani and Baxter’s wedding was because people liked the love story of Dani and Baxter falling in love on television, or because they secretly hoped they would crash and burn in the public eye too?
Speaking of love stories, she couldn’t wait for the wedding craziness to be over so she and Michael could have a moment alone again. She craved his touch, his kiss, everything about him. Mostly she wanted to look into his beautiful eyes and tell him she wasn’t scared of loving him anymore.
She made a slight adjustment to the pedestal that would hold the cake when she brought it in. A box next to the table contained the tools she would need to finish setting up the cake. In the refrigerator in the kitchen, she had carefully stored the flowers, both icing and real, that she would place on each tier.
With a hand on her nervous stomach, she realized there was nothing more she could do until it was time to set up the cake. The wedding was scheduled for late tomorrow morning, which meant she had an early morning ahead of her. She glanced at her phone to check the time and was surprised to see how late it was already. She should get home and try to see the boys before they went to bed.
Her phone dinged with another text from Michael as soon as she set it back down. He wanted to meet on the beach and only had a second, so she grabbed her purse from beside the table and took off at a jog. Rounding the corner of the building, she paused long enough to slip off her shoes and drop them by the sidewalk so she could rush across the soft sand easier. Michael had wanted to meet near where the wedding would be held tomorrow, and she was surprised he wanted to meet out in the open, but she didn’t care if the whole world saw them together. She felt like singing that she loved him to anyone who would listen.
She saw him standing in the middle of the white sand all by himself as soon as she came around the last villa. He was dressed casually in a white button-up shirt that hung loose around his khaki slacks. He had ditched his shoes somewhere too and stood there waiting for her in an image so perfect, her heart actually hurt a little. Nothing in her life was ever this perfect.
She stopped that thought in its tracks. She wasn’t going to question why she had a man as amazing as Michael in her life. She was just going to cherish him.
He spotted her and started walking toward her. That was when she saw that he looked tired, his handsome face etched with stress and worry. She wanted to smooth it all away but knew she couldn’t. He was working and he was good at his job. This was just another side to that. A side she would have to learn to handle if they were going to have a relationship.
“Hey, I’m glad you were at the resort,” he said before wrapping his arm around her waist and kissing her without giving her a chance to think about who might be watching. “I don’t have much time, but I was dying to see you.”
She braced a hand on his chest and another behind his head, smoothing his hair at his neck. “You look worn out.”
“I didn’t sleep well last night, that’s how it always is before a big job. Besides, my bed seems too empty without you in it.” His words made her blush, but she was glad she wasn’t the only one being tortured by sleeping alone.
“I miss you too.” Was all she could think to say.
“Are you about to head home?”
“Yeah, I’m going to head to the house and spend the evening with the boys.” She wanted to ask if he could join them but knew he wouldn’t be able to get away. In the distance, she could just make out the sound of a helicopter, which meant the craziness was about to go up another notch. “Sounds like you’re about to get even busier.”
“Yes, it does. Time for the show.” He took her hand and started walking down the beach toward where she had left her car, which meant he had been keeping tabs on her.
“I need to grab my shoes,” she said, pointing back up the beach to where she’d tossed them earlier.
Michael made a detour so she could grab her sandals, then he tucked her firmly against his side with an arm around her waist as they walked. “I wish I was going with you instead. A night of television on the couch sounds absolutely perfect right now.” He groaned.
“You might not think so if you ever watched television with my boys.” She laughed. “Their idea of watching television is not quite the same as mine, but they’re always down for a good time.”
“So long as nobody slips away and hides from us again, it sounds great to me.” Michael smiled.
“Lucas told me you had a little talk in that ditch last week. Thanks for that.” She squeezed his hand on her hip.
They reached her car and he turned her so her back was against the driver’s door, but he didn’t say anything for a minute. “He’s a good kid. So is Connor. You’re a great mom.”
Leslie was surprised to find that she had to blink a few times to clear her eyes before she could answer. “I’ve done the best I could. It wasn’t perfect but you’re right, they are good boys.”
“Enjoy your evening with them. I’ll try to call later, but a late night text might be all I can manage.” He kissed her softly. “I would say I’ll be thinking of you, but the truth is I’ll be doing my best to not think about you. You wreak havoc with my concentration.”
She laughed. “I think that’s a compliment.”
Michael opened her car door and held it while she slipped behind the wheel and fastened her seat belt. She felt strange closing the door with him standing there, so she rolled her window down first. He took the opportunity to lean in and press one last kiss to her lips.
She almost said it right there, sitting in her car with him leaning through the window. She almost blurted out how she felt, but she bit her tongue and held her breath. She couldn’t say it yet, though she wasn’t sure why.
“I’ll call you later,” he promised as she put the car in reverse.
* * *
“What do you mean you don’t know where he is?” Leslie tried to keep from shouting at Connor, since she knew from experience that raising her voice at him only made him shut down and stop talking at all. She needed him to talk to her now.
She needed to know where Lucas was. He had to be here. He couldn’t have wandered off again. Please, God, she prayed, let him be hiding in his bedroom.
“I don’t know. We were playing cars, and he just disappeared!”
Leslie was shaking as she tried to figure out what to do next. Her mother had called when Leslie was almost home to alert her that Lucas was missing. Again.
“Mom, you can’t let the boys play outside by themselves. Lucas wanders off if you’re not watching him.” she had told her mom, not for the first time.
“I was just inside, they were fine,” her mother insisted.
“But they’re not fine! Lucas is missing. Again. What if something happened to him?”
Leslie shook her head. She couldn’t worry about the argument with her mother, she just needed to find Lucas before it got dark. She thought about calling Michael, but he was incredibly busy and she didn’t want to bother him. Then she remembered that Michael had found Lucas in the ditch down the street.
She took off out the front door and ran a block and a half to the concrete drainage ditch down the street. At the top of the ditch, she skidded to a stop before climbing down the steep slope more slowly and carefully so she didn’t tumble head over feet to the bottom.
At the bottom of the ditch, she realized the wind was kicking up. Glancing at the treetops, she saw the telltale signs of a pop-up Florida rain storm coming, so she hurried to the edge of the concrete tube—or tunnel as her son had called it. For some reason, this place had captured his little imagination. Lucas spent most
of his days imagining great adventures and pretending to be anything from a famous race car driver to a teacher, depending on his mood. Everything he saw became something else. There were dragons in the trees and ghosts on the street corner. Just last night, he had insisted he saw a gray woman on the corner and that she must be a ghost. It had taken Leslie a while to figure out she was better off letting him believe she saw the things he saw because he was never going to give up and admit they were imaginary.
Finally reaching the concrete pipe, she leaned over and squinted into the darkness inside. “Lucas?”
She saw only a stream of water running down the center and a meager bit of light coming from the opposite end. He wasn’t there. Desperation clawed at her chest.
She turned to climb back up out of the ditch, clawing at the ground for traction and to help her climb faster. She needed to find Lucas. Fear tightened a steel band around her chest making it hard to take a full breath. She fought to fill her lungs with air and tried to slow her racing heart. She desperately wanted to call Michael, if only to hear his calm voice and reassurance that everything would be okay. She knew she should call 9-1-1, but first, she needed to hear his voice.
Reaching the top of the ditch, she dug her phone out of her back pocket and leaned against a tree as she tried to steady her breathing enough to make the calls.
She thought she was imagining things at first when she saw a woman wearing a gray long-sleeve button-up shirt over gray slacks. The pants were unusual. Extra wide flared legs covered her feet completely and seemed to make her float rather than walk. After a moment, Leslie realized that she wasn’t imagining the woman, and she remembered Lucas’s description of the ghost on the corner last night. Was this woman what he’d seen?
This was the woman who had come into the bakery, Leslie realized. She had seen her around the island and always thought she looked odd and out of place. Why was she here now? What did she want? Leslie dismissed her though. She had other things to worry about.