Scottie was stunned. She thought that journal was lost forever. She’d sort of let it stay lost because she knew if she saw it again, she’d want to run her fingers on his words, and then she’d read them. And she’d see her father’s passion, his hopes, her own ideas staring back at her, and she didn’t know if she could handle the guilt and responsibility that would descend. She wrote back. “I need it. Can you send it down here?” She typed the address.
Then she found the file on her computer with her dad’s name on it and stared at the icon. Four long, deep breaths later, she clicked. File after file of their plans, their brainstorming. She scrolled through, looking for one in particular. His letters to her. Email after email of all the things he’d sent her while at college, while at home. He sent her an email a day for as long as she could remember, and they were treasures. During the last month of his life, he seemed to grow more introspective, more deep, and more instructive. Reading through them now, she could tell he knew, some part of his soul knew his heart would stop, suddenly, abruptly, and that he would never again awaken. And he knew his time was short.
Tears flowed down her face, but her own heart felt calm, rereading of her father’s love, his confidence in her. She laughed at his jokes and felt as if his arms were around her until hours later, she read the last one. She fell asleep that night feeling as though her father were there, watching vigil next to her bed as he had when she was a child.
Chapter 17
Jake woke up the next morning with a pounding headache and a continuous stream of calls from Damian. Why had he ever given that man his cell phone number? At last, he’d had enough. “What do you want, Damian?”
“Whoa, good morning, Trey.”
He grunted. “Good morning. What can I do for you?”
“The press is just crazy, isn’t it? I can’t believe they followed you down there. And Scottie. Wow. She’s a stunning woman, I’ll give you that. Personal relationships aside, I don’t want to lose what we started. I’m putting together a team to work through the details of the new product. I’d still like Within and Beauty to be together on this. Can you make a meeting Thursday to talk details?”
The turn of subject surprised Trey, and he knew he had to agree to this meeting. No matter what happened with Scottie, they needed to at least explore this opportunity. Maybe if he moved forward with the current board, things would be in place when Scottie swept in and demanded her spot back. “I can be there. And Damian. It’s crazy how the press knew where we are.”
“I know. They follow you everywhere. Convention, wasn’t it? Cosmetics?” He laughed. “What are the odds?”
“And how quickly it spread.”
The pause on the other end told him what any response couldn’t have. “Right. Well, try to enjoy what time you have and I’ll see you Thursday.”
Trey hung up. And he felt restless. They’d talked the issue to death. Today the press was blasting the news that he and Scottie had a new relationship and were offering an exclusive interview to explain how they’d met and where things were going. They had no business news yet but to watch because it was coming. That had probably sent Damian in a tailspin. He smirked. Well, hopefully Scottie’s lawyer knew what she was doing and soon, Damian would be out of the picture forever, including possibly being taken to court for his slander, lies, and deliberate deceptive takeover of Within Cosmetics.
But now, what more could they do besides pass the time? He called Scottie.
“Hello?” Her voice sounded different, more peaceful.
“Can I have that date?”
Her laugh thrilled him. “What date?”
“The one you promised me no matter what would happen with our talks.”
“Wow, we’ve gone beyond talks to trending.”
“Still holds.”
“I’m not trying to back down. I’d like that. Do you want to catch lunch down at the bar?”
“What? No way. I’ve got something way more exciting than the bar planned. Wear a swimsuit, and get ready for an adventure.”
“When are you leaving?”
“Twenty minutes. I’ll meet you on your balcony.”
Before she could complain, he said goodbye and hung up. Now, to arrange a few things.
He slung a backpack over one shoulder and hopped down onto her balcony. She was on the phone and he hated the pinch between her eyes, the stress around her mouth.
When she saw him, everything softened and she waved, mouthing the words, “Thank you.” He waited until she was finished.
Then she stepped out to join him. “I can’t wait to leave all this behind for a little bit and have some fun with you.” She kissed his cheek. “Maybe we can pretend you really are a lifeguard and I’m a yoga instructor, and the most stressful thing in our lives is how to get our days off to align.”
He reached for her hand. “Or, we can go find a private island on my helicopter?”
Her face lit. “Oh, yeah, I like your idea better.”
They made their way to the helipad entrance. “Are you serious about this?”
“As serious as can be. It’s all arranged. We’ll do a low-lying air tour while they set things up for us and then the only glitch is, we have to drop from the bird into the water and swim ashore.”
“Classic. Okay, I’m ready.”
“You’re an original.” He brought the back of her hand, encased in his own, up to his mouth. “Wow, I’m happy I met you.”
She joined him inside the helicopter, both of them sharing a seat that looked out through full glass windows. He pointed as they rose into the sky. “On our flight in, I was amazed at how clear the water is. You can see to the bottom from an airplane. I hoped I’d get up here to check it out some more.”
She scooted closer to him. “This is perfect.”
They headed out toward the city, the main hotel strip, the surrounding areas, including tall pyramid-looking structures. The El Ray Mayan ruins. “Have you ever raced up those steps?”
“No, have you?”
He shook his head. “But I think maybe a race is in order.”
She laughed. “Best woman wins?”
“Something like that.”
They turned to explore the water, the islands off of the shore. As they passed over Isla Mujeres, they both pointed out underwater highlights. She turned to him. “We really should scuba. Do we have time?” Her eyes held sadness and he didn’t want to think about the end of his vacation. “Not this trip, but we’ll be back.”
She lifted a shoulder. “I’m here. So, whenever you can make it.”
The mood dampened somewhat with the reminder she was not leaving with him, but then they grew closer to MOSA and laughed about the turtle. “I would give anything to know what went through that beautiful creature’s mind when I snuck a handshake.”
As they turned to go further out, the water turned darker in places and lighter in others, and the bottom was gorgeously white with sand. The rivulets caused by waves progressed in sharp peaks under the water. Every now and then a cloud darkened a shadow of its shape across the ocean floor. They drew closer to a stretch of land, the brilliant turquoise of the water surrounding the island, and the helicopter dropped lower.
They tossed down their bags to his hired staff and then circled back out, lowering close to the water’s surface.
“You ready?”
She grinned. “This is awesome.”
He counted to three and then, holding hands, they jumped into the water. Its pleasant coolness surrounded him. He let go of Scottie’s hand and kicked to the surface and they swam in. Laughing, she rung her clothes dry.
“They have a change of clothes if you want one.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re amazing. How are you so prepared? You think of everything.”
He shrugged. “I knew how much I needed this and thought you would be up for a break even more. Then I asked myself, what would make it perfect for you?”
Her smile turned shy. “You nailed it so far.
”
He couldn’t stop his happy grin. Over just the course of a few days, he’d come to want only the best for Scottie; whatever it took to make her happy, he would try. And perhaps get her to come to Chicago in the process. Was he selfish? Maybe, but did it count as selfishness if it was in her best interests?
They walked to a table, set up in the shade of the trees. She rubbed a towel through her hair and wiped her face. Then she stepped behind a changing screen where she slipped on a strappy dress with a cardigan. “The extra layers was a good idea.”
He took his turn, swapping out his board shorts and slipping on a sweatshirt. Trey and Scottie sat together at a table under the trees. The soft sand felt warm and comforting between his toes. Once the staff had loaded their table with food, they disappeared.
Filling her plate with fruit, Scottie started telling him stories of her childhood. He drank in every word, longing to hear more of his mentor and to know Scottie better.
“Dad was always there, making me laugh.”
“From what I know of him, he was an amazing man.” He couldn’t tell her his relationship with her father. The words were at his lips, but it felt manipulative. And he didn’t want to confuse her choices. Either she trusted him and wanted to be with him or she didn’t. There was no need to add the pressure of her father’s influence on his life, and he suspected she wouldn’t appreciate the added emotion of knowing her father played any role at all, both for his business success and personal growth.
When they’d finished, he led her through the trees. “Now for the part I’m most excited about.”
Right in the center of a cluster of palm trees, shaded, with beautiful light filtering in, views of the ocean water everywhere he could see, two easels were set up on a makeshift platform. Full palates of paint and brushes and water with buckets nearby made his fingers itch to try something, anything, with the tools. Stools sat in front of the easels, beckoning. At least, they beckoned to him. He hoped she’d want to paint.
He watched her but couldn’t tell. She’d frozen in place, her expression bland. But when she turned to him, the light was alive in her eyes, a new confidence over her whole countenance, and she nodded. “This is the part I’m most excited about too.”
She led him to the easels. “Now, first, you must choose your view. Like I was saying earlier, seek for interesting plays with light.” They stood, back to back. Slowly turning. All his nerve endings were firing on overtime, hyperaware of the length of her body, leaning against his back as they moved. The waves lulled him into a sort of trance and he rested a hand behind him at her hip, following her slow circle. Then he stopped. “There. What do you think of that?”
Light filtered down between the fronds of a palm tree, and through the trunks, blue water sparkled behind.
“Yes, but resist the urge to capture the water. Focus on that small moment, right there.” She pointed and he followed the direction of her hand, but his gaze returned to her face, to her chin, the determined lift of her mouth.
He rested a hand at her waist, fingers capturing the angle of her hip bone. “The most beautiful thing to ever happen to me is standing right here.”
She sucked in a breath. Then swallowed. He wondered what she’d say. “Beauty is so much more than people think.”
Interesting.
“People might be able to encourage beauty, to enhance it, to prolong a youthful skin, but true beauty comes from within.”
“How do you paint that kind of beauty?”
“I think it comes from within you, the artist.” She led him back to a stool and they turned it to face the view he wanted to study.
Once she reminded him about mixing paints, using his palate and the water and brushes, he stared for many minutes before setting brush to canvas. He felt her behind him. Her presence amped up his creativity, his confidence, his daring. But soon even his awareness of her quieted and he was alone with his work.
Chapter 18
Scottie finished all she was going to paint today. She made good progress, so she hoped Trey would be able to take their pieces back to the mainland. She leaned back quietly so she didn’t disturb him. Sitting at his side, she couldn’t see his canvas, so she watched his face. His intensity excited her. His eyes focused while concentrating on his project; his hand movement, slow, guided, careful, hypnotized her as she got caught up in his strokes across the canvas. His muscles shifting and tightening or loosening in a fascinating rhythm as his arm adjusted angle and direction. He’d taken off his shirt. The air had stilled and their lovely shaded retreat had grown hotter. Her gaze traveled over his skin. She was itching to see what he’d done, but she waited. When her gaze shifted back up to his face, she laughed without meaning to. His tongue poked out, just a tiny bit in the corner.
She held her breath, hoping she hadn’t disturbed him. But he smirked. “I see you checking me out.”
“You don’t.”
“I have eyes, woman, and feels. I can feel your gaze on me.”
She rose and stood behind him, leaning against his back, resting her hands on his shoulders. When she lifted her eyes to his canvas, she gasped. “Trey.”
He turned, insecurity and pride warring with each other with a touch of mischief.
“That’s remarkable.”
“I hope so. I would never be able to do the original justice.” His eyes sparkled. “Do you really like it?”
She stepped closer. He’d painted her. And she knew that the subjects of paintings were often more critical than usual when they were featured. She tried to look at it from a professional standpoint. “It’s remarkable. You never paint?”
“Not really. I used to. I design a lot, work with color.”
“But this is fantastic, your technique. It comes instinctually, then.”
“I keep asking. You’re making me nervous with your non-response. Do you like it?”
Did she like it? The Scottie that stared back at her from his painting made her uncomfortable. She was strong, brave, at peace. She faced problems head-on and won. And Scottie felt like none of those things. But she tried to notice other elements. “Oh, I love this light right here in the background. You’ve captured that feel right over there.” She pointed to what he had said was his original view.
He reached for her hand. “I could never do you justice. What you see there is pale compared to the brilliance I see here.” He placed a finger in the indent below her neck. “Your beauty within could never be hidden, even on a deserted island here in Mexico. And that beauty is the one I’m falling in love with.”
She shuddered in pleasure, in surprise, and for some reason her whole body trembled. “You say all the right things.”
He reached for her and pulled her close. “I mean everything I say to you.”
She looked up into his face and found his mouth before he could say another thing. This time, his kisses were insistent. He wanted something from her. He pressed his mouth to her again and again, exploring her lips from every direction, teasing and pulling, and when he ran his tongue along their center, she responded, pulling him closer, urging, tugging, holding him close. His love, his acceptance cascaded over her in a heady sensation. When he saw her, he saw that woman in the painting. She wrapped her arms tighter around his neck.
But she wasn’t that girl. The thought shuddered painfully through her. She hid from that side of herself. Her kisses became desperate. She didn’t think she could ever be that woman. She slowed. But he wanted more. He wanted change. Her fear took over. She had lost everything in Chicago, stripped of all she’d loved, when she was most alone in the world. And she never wanted to experience that kind of betrayal again. A sadness burned inside until she choked out on a sob, “I can’t.” She turned from him. “We should go.”
He rested a hand on her shoulder, and she was grateful when he didn’t ask for an explanation. Could he understand her anguish over this, how hard it was for her? It didn’t matter because she wasn’t going to face her fears. That girl in the
portrait would have to stay the fantasy it was. Still facing away, she fisted her hands. “I can’t be her.”
He didn’t say anything but tugged on her hand. “Come on. I want to show you one last thing.”
They left the paintings in the clearing. And walked to the opposite beach.
“I promised not to disturb them.”
As they moved closer, the nest became clear. She gasped. A turtle nest. “Are they hatching?”
“I think so. When I heard it was nearly time, I thought we could peek and see.”
They crept closer and stood at the edge of the shaded area.
Not ten feet in front of them, movement rustled in the sand and a tiny creature lifted large fin-like appendages up through the sand. The adorable miniature turtle pushed its way forward, shuffling and scrambling toward the ocean. “It totally makes me want to pick him up and run with him to the water.”
“I know. But we can’t. They have to do this so they’re strong enough.”
She’d read that somewhere. “It seems so hard for the little guy.”
“Look, there’s more.”
Soon many little turtle babies were making their way to the water and Scottie was enchanted. “I’ll remember this forever. Maybe my new turtle exhibit needs babies in it.”
“I’m convinced it does.”
They moved to sit in the sand and watched for a good long time in silence. She leaned up against him and had never felt such camaraderie with another. At length, he kissed the top of her head. “We have to get back.”
She bit back a groan. She wanted to dig in her heels and stay. Going back meant facing some difficult choices, and perhaps, worst of all, saying goodbye to Trey.
They stood and she faced him, running a hand down his still bare chest, knowing she’d probably never be able to do that again. “Thank you, Trey. This has been the perfect date.”
She knew he could sense the finality of her tone, her words. But he just nodded. “You’re welcome. Thank you for coming.”
Her Billionaire Lifeguard Page 8