Thunder Island

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Thunder Island Page 19

by Meryl Sawyer


  She watched him, not quite believing she’d actually made love to him again. How many years had she waited to feel his arms around her again, to feel his powerful body filling hers with a surge of raw energy too awesome to describe?

  He was even more exciting than she’d remembered. He’d been a boy the first time they’d made love, a little too eager, a little too hurried. Now he was a man, an experienced, inventive lover.

  He had an edge to him now that hadn’t been there years ago. It suddenly struck her that Kyle was so much like his father. Kyle was the image of Vincent Parker, something she hadn’t noticed as much when he’d been younger. He had the same way of holding back his emotions that had prevented his father from committing to her mother until it was too late.

  She told herself it didn’t matter. She’d been down this road before, and she knew where it led. Straight to heartbreak.

  How could she have been so utterly stupid?

  Why on earth had she allowed herself to make love to Kyle while she was engaged to another man? It went against everything she believed. Love and loyalty were synonymous.

  She owed it to Chad to discuss … Discuss what? She pondered what to tell him while she gathered up her clothes and put them on. Didn’t she love Chad? She would have sworn she did, but tonight made her question her feelings.

  Was it unfinished business with Kyle, or was it something more?

  Kyle shoved the radio back into its case, saying, “The storm’s changed course again. It’s veered north toward Key Largo. The brunt of it missed us. The worst is over.”

  He stepped into his shorts without bothering to put on his underwear. Fascinated, she watched him shrug into his shirt.

  He said, “Let’s get out of here and see how bad the damage is. We may be able to help.”

  “Right. They’ll need S&R units.”

  “He’s coming home. Thank You, God. Thank You.” Thelma Mae said the words out loud as she hauled another deck chair onto the beach behind Thunder Island.

  The hurricane had spared Key West, this time. Electricity was out as well as the telephones, and a water main was broken, according to the radio, but this was nothing compared with Georges’ devastation.

  How lucky could she get? Her prayers had been answered. Thunder Island and been spared.

  And he was coming home.

  “Let me do that.”

  Chuck came up on Thelma Mae, taking her by surprise. Beside him walked Raven and Lisa. Thelma Mae allowed them to line up the beach chairs and Italian café style umbrellas in the sand.

  “We have the beach to ourselves,” Plotzy proclaimed as he sauntered toward Thelma Mae, wearing his usual outfit of Speedos and leopard-print suspenders. “The tourists hightailed it the minute the sun came up.”

  “I’m not worried. People have short memories. By the weekend, Hurricane Frances will be ancient history, and tourists will pour back into Key West.”

  “Right-o,” Plotzy responded in his absentminded way, his gaze tracking the trio on the beach. “Golly, looks like Chuck has the hots for Raven and Lisa doesn’t like it one bit. She’s sticking to her brother like white on rice.”

  “Maybe she’s afraid Raven will hurt Chuck. You can’t blame Lisa for being protective of her brother. After all, when she had leukemia and needed a bone marrow transplant, Chuck came through for her.”

  “Lisa had leukemia? You don’t say. You could never tell by looking at her.”

  Thelma Mae silently sighed to herself. They’d broken the mold when they’d created Plotzy. They’d discussed Lisa’s leukemia and bone marrow transplant several other times. Plotzy retained only what was important to him.

  “If you ask me,” he said in a conspiratorial whisper, “Chuck and Lisa are a whole lot closer than twins should be.”

  Thelma Mae shrugged off the comment even though she agreed. There was something unusual about the twins. “A life threatening illness and the bone transplant brought them closer.”

  “Right-o. Inheriting billions from their parents’ pharmaceutical company probably helped, too.”

  What Plotzy chose to remember was amazing. She’d mentioned their inheritance only once. She’d marveled at Lisa’s remarkable recovery many times, but Plotzy hadn’t retained that part of the story.

  “Like you, Plotzy, Chuck and Lisa made their money the old fashioned way. They inherited it.”

  “Right-o,” Plotzy agreed with his goofy smile. It never occurred to him to be apologetic for never having worked a day in his life. “Like me, Chuck’s a hunk. A rich hunk.”

  Thelma Mae stifled a laugh. Plotzy was gay, but he was a misfit even here in Key West where just about anything could pass for normal.

  Lisa left her brother with Raven and bounced across the sand to them. “Kyle didn’t make it home last night. Have you heard from him?”

  “No. I assume he stayed out at the base.” Thelma Mae considered Lisa’s interest in Kyle healthy. She didn’t need to spend every waking moment being her brother’s keeper.

  Plotzy released a noisy sigh as Lisa rushed back to where her brother was helping Raven set up an oversize umbrella. “Kyle Parker. Now there is a hunk to end all hunks.”

  Kyle was the essence of masculinity, she thought, but another hunk who was even more gorgeous would be arriving soon. She wandered off to tend her orchids, wondering what he would add to the sexual highjinks going on at Thunder Island.

  Chapter 21

  Kyle sat on the rail while Chuck poured cocktails for the group gathered on Thunder Island’s back porch. Three days had passed since Hurricane Frances decided to spare Key West. During that time Jennifer had done everything she could to avoid him. He’d given her space.

  What choice did he have?

  Every day after class, she rushed off to the clinic to visit Sadie. Then Jennifer spent hours on the firing range. It had been well after one each night when she tiptoed up the hall and quietly let herself into her room.

  Why was she avoiding him?

  “Nothing to drink for me,” Raven told Chuck, breaking into Kyle’s thoughts. “The club reopened. I’m dancing tonight.”

  “That’s too bad.”

  Kyle silently agreed with Chuck. Even though the hurricane had done little damage to the key, the tourists had fled. Most of the bars and restaurants on Duval Street had been closed. It was a rare moment in paradise—locals only time.

  “Oh, my,” Lisa said. She’d been sitting in the long shadows cast by the setting sun, not saying anything. “Who’s the stud with Thelma Mae?”

  Kyle looked toward the side of the house where Thelma Mae was showing the beach to a tall man with black hair and dark, striking eyes.

  Chuck gazed at Raven, presumably to gauge her reaction to the handsome stranger, but Raven hadn’t bothered to turn around. “Fun’s over,” declared Chuck. “The tourists are back.”

  “You mean the fun’s just beginning,” his sister said with a wink.

  Kyle could have been annoyed at how quickly Lisa went for another man after she’d spent the last few days coming on to him, but he wasn’t. His mind was on Jennifer. The next time he saw her they were going to have a serious talk.

  Thelma Mae promenaded across the lush lawn on the stranger’s arm. The man was young enough to be her son, but any fool could see how taken she was with him. She giggled at something the guy said and lowered her lashes flirtatiously.

  This was a side of the cool Thelma Mae that Kyle hadn’t seen. She was an insular woman with a dark undertow to her personality. Kyle wasn’t positive he would like her if he really knew her.

  “This is Tyler Langley,” Thelma Mae announced with unmistakable pride.

  As she proceeded to introduce Langley to everyone, Kyle studied the man. It was hard to dislike the guy. Tyler Langley had an easy smile and an unaffected manner despite his good looks.

  “Right-o,” Plotzy called as he bounded up to the porch from the beach. As usual he had once again avoided “the curse” by being in the ocean when
the sun set, but he’d spotted the handsome stranger anyway.

  Kyle gave Langley credit for acting as if everyone wore faded Speedos with leopard-print suspenders when they went swimming. Tyler said, “Hi, there,” as he shook Plotzy’s extended hand.

  Raven might not have bothered to look at Tyler when they had first seen him, but now she couldn’t keep her eyes off the guy. Chuck was not a happy camper, Kyle decided as he watched the way Chuck was frowning.

  Out of the blue, Plotzy told Tyler, “Jennifer threatened to turn me into a toad.”

  Now, that would be an improvement.

  Tyler chuckled. “I haven’t met Jennifer, but I like her already.”

  Look, buddy, don’t even think about Jennifer.

  “Where is Jennifer these days?” asked Chuck. “We haven’t seen much of her lately.”

  “She’ll be here soon,” Plotzy told Tyler, even though the stranger didn’t know Jennifer and hadn’t asked the question. “She’s bringing Sadie home this evening.”

  Unfuckingbelievable! The looneytune Plotzy knew more about Jennifer than he did.

  Jennifer lifted Sadie out of her car and gently put her on the footpath leading to Thunder Island. The dog hobbled along, doing amazingly well on three legs.

  “Atta girl, Sadie. You’re almost home.”

  The sun had set but the sky was fired with its afterglow, backlighting the trees lining the path with a hazy wash of gold. Ahead near Thunder Island’s gate, she saw a man leaning against the white picket fence. Sadie spotted him and immediately her tail surged upward, wagging joyfully.

  Kyle strode toward them, but it was too shadowy to see the expression on his face. She’d successfully avoided him for the last few days. She didn’t want to see him now. No matter how she’d suffered in the past, no matter what her rational brain told her, something inside her traitorous body responded to Kyle.

  In spite of what had happened.

  “Hey, Sadie,” Kyle said. “Look at you. We’re going to have to call you gimp.”

  Sadie’s tail chopped the air, and she danced a three-legged jig. Kyle bent down and fondly petted Sadie’s head. He took one long ear in each hand and jiggled them.

  He looked up at Jennifer, saying, “You should have asked me to help you.”

  “We managed.”

  Kyle stood up and stared down at her. “What’s going on? Why are you avoiding me?”

  She gazed into his intense green eyes and saw something she didn’t quite recognize. She wasn’t sure if he was angry, or something even more ominous.

  “I don’t know what I was thinking. I love Chad.”

  Before she could protest, he hauled her into his arms. “You sure as hell have a strange way of showing how crazy you are about Chad Roberts.”

  She pulled away and silently cursed herself. “It’s just because you were the first man I cared about. Puppy love.”

  “Well, call me a dog.”

  There was something so cute about the way he said it that she almost smiled. Almost. Experience had taught her to be cautious where Kyle was concerned. She was far, far too vulnerable to his charm.

  “Look, Kyle, I’ve got to think.”

  “About what?”

  “How I feel about …” She intended to say “you,” but stopped herself, astonished that she wasn’t thinking of Chad first.

  “About me?” he asked with another adorable grin.

  “Hey, Kyle! Jennifer,” Chuck called from the porch. “Hurry up. Dinner’s being served.”

  Thelma Mae loved stirring the pot. She loved to cook and throw in unusual ingredients. Even more, she loved to throw odd people together and see what fireworks followed. She glanced around the table, terribly pleased with herself.

  Tyler Langley had ratcheted up the testosterone level at Thunder Island. Chuck was glowering at Tyler while Kyle silently ate his dinner. All the women were fascinated by Tyler’s deep sea diving stories.

  “Now that Mel Fisher is dead, Key West could use another treasure hunter,” Jennifer said.

  Kyle silently watched Jennifer as she spoke. Thelma Mae smiled to herself. A new box of condoms—French Ticklers—had appeared in Kyle’s nightstand two days ago. So far, not one had been used.

  Jennifer was too loyal to fool around with Kyle, Thelma Mae assured herself. She had made an exception by letting Jennifer move into Thunder Island ahead of the others on the waiting list. She didn’t want to be disappointed in Jennifer’s character.

  Tyler smiled at Jennifer, then turned to Raven and Lisa seated to his right, saying, “I believe the Atochia is not the only wreck in the area. Mel got lucky when he found it.”

  “Lucky,” scoffed Chuck. “The man searched for years and spent a fortune to find the Atochia.”

  “Right-o,” added Plotzy. “I knew Mel and he was a hard worker.”

  Thelma Mae nearly gagged on the cold cucumber soup with just a hint of sorrel. Mel Fisher had been one of the friendliest men in town, never failing to smile and wave at the locals. That’s how Plotzy knew Mel, but, like the women at the table, Plotzy was enchanted by Tyler and was angling for a way to get his attention.

  “I have the greatest respect for Mel, but I have some ideas of my own.”

  As Tyler said this, he winked at Thelma Mae. She beamed back at him. The world was full of men. Only a few of them were special.

  “Whose soup is that?” asked Raven, indicating the empty place across from Thelma Mae.

  Thelma Mae had been wondering when someone would notice. She had a very strict rule about showing up for dinner on time. If you didn’t arrive when the first course was served, the china was removed and you missed dinner.

  She’d never made an exception. Until now.

  “I’m expecting a guest. His plane must have been late. He’ll be along shortly.”

  “Really?” Chuck and Lisa said in unison. Sometimes she thought the twins were joined at the hip. Their minds were often on the same track. “You’re making an exception to Rule 9?”

  “Some rules are meant to be broken,” Tyler said with what could only be interpreted as a suggestive smile at Raven.

  Chuck’s brows drew together so tightly a furrow appeared between his eyes. He looked as if he was preparing to break something, but it wasn’t a rule. Thelma Mae smiled inwardly. Boy, oh, boy did she love stirring the pot. And it was only going to get better.

  Kyle watched Tyler bullshit everyone, laying it on with the devil’s own smile. Kyle didn’t know what to make of the man. He was full of himself in a strange way. Tyler Langley didn’t seem to be taken by his looks, which had captivated every female at the table, but Langley wanted everyone to be impressed by his abilities as a treasure hunter.

  Why? Kyle wondered. Tyler hadn’t mentioned any experience to speak of, unless you counted commercial scuba diving with tourists in the Cayman Islands. That Tyler could even think about stepping into Mel Fisher’s shoes took balls.

  “Tell us about the treasure you’ve found,” Jennifer said.

  She hadn’t spared Kyle more than a quick glance, but she looked at him for an instant as she questioned Tyler.

  Tyler hesitated for the briefest of seconds—hardly enough time to blink—but long enough to make Kyle suspicious. “I’ve uncovered several significant pieces.” He leaned forward with a smile, implying he was letting them in on a deep dark secret. “I can’t say what because word might get out—”

  “And someone else might steal your find,” Lisa finished for him.

  Kyle’s eyes met Jennifer’s. He knew they were both thinking the same thing. Tyler Langley was not in Key West to hunt sunken treasure. What was he after?

  “Oh, my stars!” cried Thelma Mae. “There you are.”

  Kyle looked toward the doorway and saw Spike—Chad—Roberts walking into the dining room. Just his luck. When he was finally getting somewhere with Jennifer the cocky jerk shows up.

  Kyle had no doubt women flipped over Chad. He had blond sun-streaked hair and pale-blue eyes, th
e type of looks and attitude Kyle associated with surfers. Sure as hell, you’d never think Roberts was with the DEA just by looking at him.

  “Chad! What a surprise. I thought you were going to call.” Lisa jumped up and raced over to Chad. She threw her arms around him, pressing every inch of her voluptuous body against his. The deep-throat kiss that followed left the table in astonished silence.

  Kyle’s gaze cut to Jennifer. She was staring at the couple with something too intense to be mere shock. She bit down on her full lower lip, then her eyes shifted to him.

  “Hey, you two,” Kyle said to break the tension. “You’d better come up for air.”

  As he said it, Kyle noticed the tight expression on Thelma Mae’s face. Chuck seemed to be pissed off at the spectacle his sister was making of herself. For some strange reason, Plotzy appeared to be as upset as Chuck, which didn’t make any sense. How could Plotzy know Chad? What was Chad doing here anyway?

  “Thelma Mae, baby,” Chad said as he wrenched himself out of Lisa’s clutches. He had the gall to smile at everyone as if the scene with Lisa had been totally natural and head for the open place opposite Thelma Mae. “Sorry I’m late.”

  Kyle noted Chad neglected to say why he’d been late. Thelma Mae didn’t ask. Her pinched expression disappeared as Chad dropped into the seat opposite her.

  Kyle stole a sideways glance at Jennifer. She was idly playing with her wine glass as if this man meant nothing to her. Chad had yet to look at Jennifer or even glance in her direction.

  Why not?

  Granted, Roberts might want to keep his so-called engagement from being public knowledge to protect Jennifer from drug lords, but Kyle clearly recalled what Sam Halford had told him. The son of a bitch might have used the engagement bit to lure Jennifer into bed.

  Jennifer waited, silently fuming while Chad flirted with Lisa. What was going on here? Lisa acted as if she were the one engaged to Chad.

  She concentrated on the main course being served, conch chowder. Thelma Mae prepared the traditional dish with a unique flair by adding calamari and bay scallops to the dish. It was usually one of Jennifer’s favorite meals, but tonight she had to force herself to eat.

 

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