by Tracy March
“Sorry I’m running late.” He scanned the cases of production equipment stacked in the corner and focused his gaze on the camera Gordon was tinkering with. Immersed in resort business, he’d almost forgotten to be nervous about tomorrow. About meeting Ava and being on camera.
“No worries.” Stuart was kicked back in a chair, his bare feet resting on a huge common ottoman. A glass half full of beer sat on the table next to him. No worries indeed. Especially since he was sitting next to Cyn, who was stretched out on an upholstered chaise. She’d changed into wickedly sexy shorts. Trent’s heart rapid-fired as he followed the length of her shapely legs up to the gauzy top draping over the curves of her breasts. Her blue eyes sparkled. The island atmosphere clearly suited her.
“Hi.” She gave him that Mona Lisa smile full of secrets. Her lips shimmered with a hint of gloss. Had he lost his mind, kissing her last night? Any guy who took one look at her would say no. He’d known better, but it was hard to regret that kiss considering how hot it was. Even so, it could’ve made things way too awkward right from the beginning. She’d been right to put on the brakes and remind him what was at stake. Forget that his ego was a little bruised. They were working together to find him a wife, and that was where his focus should be.
“Hey there,” he said to her, and forced himself to look away.
“I was hoping you’d make it for the sunset,” Gordon said. “I got a lot of impressive footage of the resort, but I need your mug in some of it.” He hitched his chin in the direction of the beach. “Got us a perfect backdrop.”
Trent’s stomach clenched and he looked to Jamie to save him. “But I’m not ‘camera-ready’ like you say, right?”
Jamie patted the spot next to her on the couch and tipped her head toward the leopard-print makeup case sitting in front of her on the ottoman. “Hurry, Romeo.”
Trent glanced out at the color-swirled sky and joined Jamie on the couch. She dabbed makeup on his face, powder, and some other touch-ups that made him feel way too girly.
“How’s everything looking for tomorrow?” he asked.
“We’re all set,” Cyn said.
Gordon nodded. “Hate to crash your date, mate, but we’ve got you covered from the time you meet Ava on the dock in the morning until lights-out tomorrow night.”
Trent’s gut twisted. As if meeting someone who might be a marriage match wasn’t stressful enough, he’d have four other people and a big fat camera documenting the entire date.
“We won’t be shooting the entire time,” Gordon said, “but we will be for a lot of it. That said, just act natural and I bet we’ll get the shots we need. We’ve briefed Ava—”
“She’s here?” Trent asked, sounding excited and nervous at the same time, even to himself.
“I met her when she arrived a couple hours ago and helped her get settled in her villa,” Cyn said. “Then we all got together so she could meet everyone.”
“She’s squared away on how everything’s going to work,” Gordon said.
Jamie swept a makeup brush across Trent’s forehead. “And she’s just lovely. Your grandmother has good taste.”
Just lovely? What did that even mean? Trent decided not to ask. Best not to let anyone else’s opinion shape his.
“And Cyn briefed us on the other two women,” Gordon said. “After your date with Ava, we’ll need to work on details of your dates with them.”
Trent’s thoughts raced. Running a resort company was way easier than this. “One island at a time, man.”
“Yes,” Cyn said. “Focus on one island and one girl at a time.” She looked apologetically at Gordon. “We’ll get the date details done in time, I promise.”
Jamie squinted at her handiwork. “All set. And those shorts you’re wearing will be fine for this shoot. How about we get you shirtless first, then we’ll go with a V-neck T-shirt. There’s one in there with your wardrobe that’ll be perfect.”
Shirtless?
Of course men in ads for Caribbean resorts went shirtless. He just hadn’t really thought it through, or thought it would be so contrived.
Gordon nudged Stuart’s shoulder. “Let’s head out to the beach while we still have a sunset.”
They all hurried out of the villa and down to the beach where Gordon got the camera rolling quickly. “Shirt and shoes off,” Jamie reminded Trent as she settled onto a cushioned beach lounger.
Trent casually kicked off his sandals, grabbed the hem of his polo, and froze, his nerves shifting into overdrive. Normally he’d think nothing of getting half naked on the beach, but everyone’s eyes were on him, and the camera too. Getting shirtless had never been such a challenge.
“No time to be shy,” Gordon ribbed.
Trent gave Gordon a narrow-eyed glance. He quickly pulled his shirt over his head and scrubbed his hand through his hair. Instinctively flexing, he glanced at Cyn, who leaned against the trunk of a nearby palm tree, her long legs crossed, her hair wispy in the evening breeze. One corner of her mouth curled up as she checked him out and met his gaze.
She raised her eyebrows. “Want me to hold that?” She nodded toward his shirt.
“Sure.”
She came to him, sexy step by sexy step. If she looked that good in shorts and a top, he could only imagine what she’d look like in a bikini.
Focus, Hawthorne.
He shifted his gaze away from her and caught Stuart watching her too, a dazed, she’s-so-hot look on his face that Trent was struggling to keep off his. He held his shirt out to her, playfully gripping one end as she pulled the other.
She sank her teeth into her bottom lip, determined. “The sun’s setting fast,” she said. “You might as well give it to me.”
“Now there’s a line we can use,” Gordon teased.
Cyn gave the shirt a mighty tug. Trent let go and sent her stumbling backward. She quickly regained her footing, laughing easily. “So that’s how it’s going to be, huh?” She leveled a just-you-wait look at him.
“Give me a walk about twenty-five yards down the beach with your profile turned toward the sunset,” Gordon said, getting down to business. “Then turn around and give me the same thing all the way back.”
Trent gave Gordon what he wanted, hoping he didn’t look as awkward as he felt parading up and down the beach for the camera.
“This time, let’s have a slow jog both ways,” Gordon said.
Trent took off in a jog, wondering if everything that was about to happen with the girls would seem as forced as this. When he returned, barely winded, Gordon said, “Turn your back to the sunset, eyes on the lens.” He tapped the camera with his index finger. “Think of the girl of your dreams and how badly you want to find her. Give me intense.”
Trent looked beyond the camera and caught a glimpse of Cyn in the last light of the setting sun. He stared into the lens, hoping like hell one of Gran’s girls would be like Cyn.
Chapter Eight
Beneath an electric-blue sky and the warm morning sun, Cyn waited at the end of the dock with Jamie, Gordon, and Trent. The seaplane they’d arrived in yesterday was moored at the dock, bobbing in the gentle ebb and flow of the lapping water. She’d never imagined that she could be such a huge bundle of nerves in a relaxing atmosphere like this, but no sea breeze or exotic coffee drink could calm her.
Within minutes, Stuart would alert them from the shore that Ava Brennan was about to arrive. She’d step onto the beach from the path between the palms and make her way down the dock. Ever since Cyn had met Ava last night, she’d wondered if Ava could be the girl for Trent. The girl who would earn Cyn that twenty-five-thousand-dollar bonus.
Ava was everything her profile had promised—cute and confident, and seemingly refined, just what the Queen had banked on. Cyn had gone in with an open mind, looking for the best in Ava, and was impressed. But how Cyn felt about Ava wasn’t going to make or break her deal with the Queen. Trent was the one who’d do that.
Trent stood near the plane, chatting with Stuart, lookin
g like every girl’s fantasy in a pair of black cargo shorts and the bright blue V-neck T-shirt Jamie had pulled out for him to wear last night, although he’d never put it on. Like Cyn, Jamie had probably been enjoying the shirtless view too much to even consider covering up Trent’s washboard abs, tight pecs, and narrow waist. No doubt Gordon got some sweet footage of Trent’s strong-shouldered silhouette as he walked and jogged along the beach in the dazzling sunset. Forget the sultry way he’d gazed at the camera when Gordon had asked him about his dream girl. Cyn’s heart had hitched when she realized she’d seen that look before—right after Trent had kissed her, and before she’d told him not to do it again. She’d had no choice, and she was right to point out why. It had just been playful fun that had gone a little too far and never should’ve happened between a boss and his employee. But he’d definitely made things harder on her than they were before. From now on, she’d be searching for a guy like Trent. A guy who was smart, hot, and playful, and who could curl her toes with just one kiss.
Stuart signaled that Ava would be arriving within a minute. Cyn tugged in a deep breath of the balmy air. Here we go…
Trent stepped over to the spot Gordon had assigned him and waited, his gaze fixed on the opening between the palms. Gordon shouldered the camera.
Jamie and Cyn stood on the far side of the dock, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible, but eager to see the adventure begin. “This is exciting,” Jamie said softly.
You have no idea.
Ava stepped out of the palm grove and onto the white sand beach. She looked perfect for the date in her strappy sandals and fuchsia sundress, a matching tropical flower tucked in her wavy dark hair. Pretty and petite, she smiled demurely as she headed toward the dock.
In a split second, Cyn shifted her gaze to Trent, eager to catch his reaction and glad she and Jamie had a clear view of his face. But he gave nothing away. Cyn narrowed her eyes and concentrated, searching for something more. His smile seemed to match Ava’s, watt for watt, interested but not desperate. They were playing it cool. His gaze stayed on her until she reached him.
“You must be Ava.” Trent grinned at her crookedly and reached for her hand.
“And you’re Trent,” Ava said coquettishly, shaking his hand and holding an extra second or two. She looked him up and down, seemingly trying to be discreet, but Cyn flat-out had her busted. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”
“Likewise.” Trent gestured toward the seaplane. “I thought we’d take a spin over to Grand Bahama Island and check out the Conch Cracking Festival in Founder’s Town.”
“Sounds fun.” Ava tipped her head to the side. “I’m a chef, so anything that has to do with food works for me.”
Cyn had no idea when Ava had gone from aspiring chef to chef, but that was a minor detail. At least Ava was trying to impress him, and that worked for Cyn.
Didn’t it?
Trent helped Ava board the plane. Gordon and Stuart followed, and got set up for shooting during the trip to Grand Bahama. Jamie and Cyn joined them. Cyn settled in her seat, amazed at how surreal her life had become. Two seaplane flights in two days?
Up front, Trent chatted with Ava about the resort and how she liked it. As they taxied away from the dock, Ava reached for his hand and squeezed it.
“I’m so excited to be here,” she said to him.
He nodded and smiled at her. “I’m glad you came.”
Cyn tugged her seat belt tighter. She gazed out the window at the vast ocean, and struggled to fight waves of envy.
…
After the seaplane was safely moored at a dock on Grand Bahama Island, Trent helped Ava into one of two open-topped Jeeps that awaited the group. Gordon captured it all on camera, then left Trent and Ava to drive alone while he and the others followed in the second Jeep.
“This looks fun,” Ava had said when she saw that they’d be taking a convertible Jeep.
Cyn had declared it “completely awesome.” She and Stuart had sparred in a playful argument over who was going to drive, then called a truce when Gordon appointed Cyn to drive to the festival, and told Stuart he could drive back.
Trent buckled up, started the Jeep, and asked Ava, “You okay?”
“Sure.” But she had twisted her hair into a side ponytail, wrapped it around her hand, and held on to it for dear life.
Trent caught movement in the rearview mirror just before he shifted out of park. Cyn had hopped out of the Jeep behind them and she hurried over to Ava.
“Thought maybe you could use this.” Cyn offered Ava an elastic ponytail holder like the one she had in her own hair.
“For sure.” Ava took the ponytail holder from Cyn. “Thanks.”
“Glad I had an extra.” Cyn smiled and leveled a challenging gaze on Trent. “Wanna race?”
There was a flash of that mischief he was certain she could get into. Trent grinned at her and lifted his chin. “Get back there,” he said. “Bailing you out of jail for reckless driving isn’t an employee benefit.”
Ava pulled her hair into a ponytail as Cyn hurried back to her Jeep, buckled her seat belt, and gave him the thumbs-up. “All set?” he asked Ava, liking her hair away from her face.
She nodded. Trent shifted into gear and hit the road. The drive would give him time to gather his thoughts without having to make much conversation, since the only way to do that on the open road was to shout.
Trent hadn’t felt that gotta-have-her jolt when he met Ava, but he liked what he’d seen so far. He reminded himself that the love-at-first-sight thing was mostly a myth, at least from his experience. So he had to give her a fair chance. He hoped she’d do the same for him. Trent caught her eye, and she gave him a shy smile. She was definitely good-looking and fit, but did they have anything in common? Or maybe differences that could make things fun and interesting? Going to the festival was a great way to find out.
Ten minutes later, they arrived in Founder’s Town on its busiest day of the year. The tiny island town practically buzzed with the jubilant mood. Melodic steel drum music carried on the breeze. The happiness of the tune reflected in the smiles of both locals and tourists who made their way to the festival grounds.
As they moved slowly with the traffic, Trent asked Ava, “Ever cracked a conch before?”
She hesitated as if she wanted to say yes, but then shook her head. “I’ve cooked them, but I’ve never cracked them.”
“Today might be your big chance.”
She raised her eyebrows. “You never know.”
“So what else do you cook? What’s your specialty?” Trent pulled the Jeep into the VIP parking area, which was nothing more than a cordoned-off section of the large dirt lot where many other vehicles were already parked. He wasn’t big on taking advantage of VIP anything, but the festival organizers had insisted when Cyn called to ask permission to film at the event.
“I’m pretty versatile in the kitchen,” Ava said. “But my most recent focus is on healthy grab-and-go. I cook for two really popular food trucks right now.”
“I was just in DC for some meetings and people swarmed around the food trucks at lunchtime.” Trent stopped the Jeep and shifted it into park.
Ava set an expectant brown-eyed gaze on him. “What about you?”
Trent gave her a sheepish look and flattened his hand over his abs. “I’m all for healthy grab-and-go, but I hit the fried chicken truck two days straight.”
She gave him an amused smile and a once-over. “You don’t look like you’ve eaten anything fried in your entire life.”
“Looks can be deceiving,” he said. “I’m revving up my taste buds for some fried conch fritters today.”
She shook her head, smiling. “I’ve got some recipes that could make you forget all about that fried stuff.”
Cyn caught Trent’s eye as she approached the Jeep with Jamie. The striped sundress she wore clung to her curves in a mesmerizing way, her face alight with an easy smile. He struggled to tear his gaze away from her and hoped
Ava hadn’t noticed. Ava might have a recipe that would make him forget about fried food, but did she have what it took to make him forget about Cyn?
Chapter Nine
Trent wasn’t used to the attention he and Ava got as they wandered through the festival closely followed by their camera-and-microphone-toting entourage. Locals and tourists seemed amped to get in a shot and possibly make it on television.
“Look!” A large Bahamian woman pointed at Trent and Ava. “Famous people!” Excited chatter rippled through the crowd. Up ahead, Jamie ran interference for Gordon and Stuart, Cyn at her side.
Trent tried to act as casual about being “famous” for a day as he could, but he couldn’t take a steady diet of being the center of attention. Stopping to catch up with familiar friends made things seem a little more like they normally did at the Founder’s Town Conch Cracking Festival. Hawthorne Resorts had sponsored the event for years. Trent always enjoyed supporting the local culture and communities of the islands where the Hawthornes did business. It was another way to give back to his employees, and to feel as if he belonged, too.
The longer Gordon followed him and Ava around with the camera, the more at ease Trent became with being in front of it. Good thing, because Gordon would take hours of footage, hoping for a handful of Hallmark moments to include in the marketing spots. But Trent wanted those to come naturally, because he was no actor, and those moments weren’t something he could fake.
Suddenly the clang of cowbells rang out. Whistles blew and drumbeats echoed just beyond the crowd as it parted. Trent and Ava stepped aside, making way for the Junkanoo rush-out, an energetic parade of dancing Bahamians wearing colorful costumes and masks. Trent took Ava’s hand and started dancing. She joined him and the others, a little off the beat, but she didn’t seem self-conscious about it. Trent gave her a lot of credit, considering the camera was on them. Besides, he’d never win Dancing With the Stars himself.