Bring the Heat

by Margot Radcliffe

  She sighed against his mouth, falling right back into the whirlwind of sex that had had them in its thrall for days now. For a person who hadn’t even been on a vacation in years, this new freedom was heady and unreal. Not for a moment could she imagine waking up tomorrow and driving back to her job even though she did love it.

  “If I remember correctly,” she said, “I believe that it’s actually your turn to be on top. So get your act together, Kent.”

  He made a humming sound against her lips. “I’ll think of an offer you can’t refuse, Molly, so I wouldn’t get so comfortable.”

  “I have no doubt that you’ll try,” she told him, shivering against him as his hands gripped her bottom, pulling her into his waiting erection.

  “Trying is half the fun.” He grinned as his head lowered. His tongue played at her lips, asking for entrance. She let him in and leaned into the kiss, her leg coming around his calf as they clung to each other.

  Finally, he pulled back and met her eyes, his green ones dark and hooded. “We have to stop. There are people on this boat.” He brushed a piece of hair that had fallen out of her ponytail behind her ear, a move that made her shiver and him grin.

  “We’ll tour the rest of the boat and then have dinner in town?” he asked.

  She nodded and they left the engine room to return to the chief steward, who was a no-nonsense blonde woman who’d worked aboard the yacht Windswept for years and knew everything there was to know about the renovations to the interior and the inner workings of the boat. “So is your engineer on board now?” Molly asked her as they stood in a master suite that didn’t hold a candle to Oliver’s. Instead of looking contemporary, it somehow looked dated even though it had just been updated.

  “No,” Jane said, “it’s his day off so he’s on the island somewhere.”

  Molly nodded. It wasn’t super important to speak with him, especially since she wasn’t taking the job Oliver kept offering, but the engine on this particular boat was built by the only company whose engines she’d hadn’t run into over the years so she was curious about his thoughts on it. Not that it meant anything; she was a curious person in general.

  “I can let him know you have some questions for him, though,” Jane added. “I’m sure he’d love to talk engines with someone. The other guys on this crew aren’t exactly valedictorians if you know what I mean.”

  Molly laughed and rattled off her email address, which Jane jotted down in the small notebook she kept in the back pocket of her black pencil skirt.

  Oliver’s arm fell across Molly’s back, lightly squeezing her shoulder, and she knew he thought he was making headway in getting her on his new venture. He could think anything he wanted; it wasn’t happening, and she sent him an overly sweet smile meant to convey this, but he only shrugged. He was incorrigible.

  “Do you two own a yacht?” Jane asked.

  Molly shook her head. “He does.”

  Oliver pulled her closer into his side. “Molly is a brilliant aerospace engineer who I am trying to lure with money and favors into my company. So you’ve truly helped us out today on this tour, Jane,” Oliver told her, that charming smile bright and playful. “She’s a genius who will not be swayed but I think through your exemplary tour, I got a little closer to the negotiating table.”

  Then he pulled out a hefty white envelope full of money and handed it to Jane. “Thanks again for all your help.”

  Jane looked down at the envelope, not surprised that she’d gotten it but at the weight of what was inside. Molly nearly rolled her eyes. Oliver literally could not help himself from being lovely. He’d tipped the driver who brought them to the boat a hundred dollars for a five-minute ride in a golf cart. Molly made a hell of a good living, but the last time she hadn’t been concerned about dropping a hundred dollars like it was as disposable as a piece of toilet paper was never.

  “It was absolutely my pleasure to assist you both,” Jane said, her eyes focusing on Molly’s, the expression in them as if to say, are you a fucking idiot for not working with this kind of man?

  And hell, maybe Jane had a point. Oliver was a unicorn.

  But that was also kind of the thing. Molly didn’t believe in magic. She made it out of nuts and bolts and tangible things and certainly couldn’t trust something she didn’t truly understand.

  “Enjoy your time in the Bahamas!” Jane called to them as they disembarked from the boat, Oliver’s hand still on Molly’s back, strangely possessive in a way he hadn’t been before. On his boat, there were casual touches, flirting, but never this, him making sure everyone they met knew she was with him.

  The same golf cart they’d used earlier was still waiting at the end of the dock for them and she realized that had been the reason for the big cash exchange. Oliver handed him another hundred upon their arrival in the cart and rested his arm on the back of the seat as she climbed in.

  As they started off, he began playing with the end of her ponytail and Molly made a concerted effort not to shiver, but she was already becoming addicted to his touch.

  “I made us reservations at a local Caribbean place if that’s okay with you.”

  “That sounds amazing,” she said. “Colorado is pretty low on seafood, high on heavy game meats.”

  Oliver laughed. “Not a huge fan of eating Bambi, are you?”

  Molly shivered. “Not so much.”

  Oliver chuckled, leaning down to land a soft kiss on the top of her head. “I’m just ready for some food I don’t have to cook myself.”

  Molly twisted away and met his eyes. “Oh, no, you don’t,” she warned. “I told you not to cook for me.”

  Oliver raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you were just going to eat peanut butter and jelly every night on a yacht?”

  “I can make other things,” Molly argued, offended, but her eyes slid away because it was true, her menu was limited. The favorites in her phone contacts list were all take-out places.

  “You know I’m kidding,” Oliver said, drawing her back into his arms. “My favorite part of this trip other than the obvious has been watching you fawn over my mediocre cooking as if I’m a Michelin-starred chef.”

  Molly crossed her arms over her chest, putting space between them. “You are a good cook, but I won’t be eating a thing now that I know you’re slaving away for my benefit alone.”

  Oliver’s shoulders shook. “I just meant that it would be nice to have a dinner I didn’t have to cook for myself as well, Molly. I’ve never known you to take things so personally.”

  “I know you don’t cook in your day-to-day life,” Molly explained, frowning. “So that you’re doing it for me is a lot and I don’t like feeling indebted to anyone.”

  The golf cart stopped in front of the yacht club boathouse where a town car was waiting at the curb to drive them to the restaurant. Oliver handed yet another hundred dollar bill to the driver as they exited the cart and then entered the town car.

  Molly got in first, scooting over to make room for Oliver on the seat, but she could feel the tension. As they settled into the cool air-conditioning of the car, it started to move before he turned to her, his eyes locking on hers. “Listen to me right now. You are never fucking indebted to me, Molly,” Oliver said, his voice deep and intense. “If I gave you my yacht, you are not in my debt because you’d deserve it. You’re not in the position to dictate to another person what you think you’re worth to them. So if I want to cook you dinner every night of my life, I’ll damn well do it and you’ll know you’re worth it to me.”

  He brought a hand up to her jaw, trapping her gaze on his when she would have looked away at the fierce words.

  “Do you get me?”

  She swallowed, heart pounding against the walls of her chest. This was a different Oliver, not the devil-may-care guy on the yacht talking to Jane or the other crew members on his own boat. This was Oliver the man who bought yach
ts and built companies, the one she’d glimpsed during their conversation about Max. He so often played the fun and carefree rich guy that she’d failed to see the whole man.

  “I don’t hear you, Molly,” he said, reminding her that she hadn’t answered him yet. “Or are you trying to think of another way you can tell me that you don’t want to be in my life?”

  “That’s not—” she started, but he shook his head.

  “You don’t want me to pay you for honest work, you don’t want me to cook for you like a normal man who would share in household stuff since you are the one fucking taking care of the rest of the damned boat, so what can I do, Molly, that’ll even the scales for you?” She tried to answer again, but he had more to say. “I’m always going to be rich. Unless some catastrophic tragedy happens and every stream of income I have somehow dries up, I will always be a wealthy motherfucker. I can’t change it, and frankly, I don’t really want to. I worked hard for the money I use, and the money I inherited will build a business that will employ thousands of people so I’m not going to be sorry for it. The real question is, we’re right now at the beginning of this, so if you’re going to let my money be a problem between us, let’s hash it out now because what I can’t do is wait until we’re further into what is already the best relationship of my life and learn that you can’t deal with being with me because of my money. So whatever you’re thinking right now, let it out.”

  Molly swallowed, her throat working against the sudden nerves.

  “I didn’t know we were in a relationship,” she finally managed, getting to the heart of the matter. The word was circling in her mind, stealing her breath by slow degrees as she considered what it actually meant. Where had the discussion been about that, by the way? Just yesterday she’d been thinking about what she’d do when she returned to her real life and now she was somehow in a relationship with someone who felt out of her reach on so many levels?

  “You know what I mean,” Oliver told her. “We’re together and sleeping together. We’re not not in a relationship.”

  “Deciding on whether or not something is a relationship takes two people, Oliver,” she pointed out.

  “You’re deliberately focusing on the wrong part of what I said,” Oliver chastised, his eyes darkening.

  “I don’t think so,” Molly said. “Because the rest of what you said doesn’t matter if we’re not in a relationship. Which, we aren’t.”

  Oliver’s lips thinned and while he wasn’t angry, he wasn’t exactly pleased, either. Then he took her hand and his face cleared completely, a winning smile transforming his face. “Molly, will you be my girlfriend?”

  An involuntary laugh flew out of her before she could grab it back. “What?” she asked, flustered despite knowing he was half goading her.

  Oliver grabbed her hands in his, thumbs running over the backs of them. “You’ve indicated that we’re not in a relationship and that we need to agree together that we’re in one, so I’m telling you that I’m all for it. Let’s be in one. If, of course, that is also amenable to you.”

  Molly felt her eyes go round as she stared first into his face and then down at their joined hands. “Um, what?”

  Oliver laughed. “Are you okay, Molly?”

  “Oliver, we’ve barely spent any time together over the last seven years, I just got unengaged, we live completely separate lives, and you want to have a relationship?”

  “Well, technically, I wanted to have a conversation about your hang-up about my money to make sure the way was clear so that we could have a shot at a relationship in the future, but since you pressed the issue of my terminology instead, then yes, the answer is I’d like to be in a relationship with you. Again, Molly, because I’ll remind you that we aren’t strangers.”

  “So you don’t want to be in a relationship?” Christ, she knew she was making an ass out of herself, but some weird sort of hope was blooming in her chest and she wasn’t sure how to handle it.

  He just raised a golden eyebrow at her bumbling.

  “Why didn’t you tell me how wealthy you were when we dated the first time?” And the fact that he hadn’t had made her feel as if he hadn’t bothered trying to make her understand or let her be a part of it because he’d known she didn’t belong there.

  Annoyance crept into his gaze. “I didn’t think it mattered.”

  And, of course, it didn’t—not in changing the way she felt about him as a person—but Molly dealt in boots to the ground (or in space) reality. Their lives weren’t meant to mingle as they were on completely different planets and his omissions only proved it.

  “It doesn’t, Oliver, but I don’t like feeling as if the things I have aren’t good enough for you, because I’ve worked really hard for them. You just dropped three hundred dollars on a golf cart ride. The last time I spent three hundred dollars at once was for tires on my car. We’re not living in the same space—you have to understand that.”

  “I do understand that, Molly, which is why I want to talk about it. What can I do to make you comfortable with it? Because I’m not letting you go, Molly, not if you feel the same way about me as I do about you. So how does this work? You know how to make things work, so help me out here. Let’s communicate about these issues now, create a solid foundation and then figure out the rest, okay?”

  Molly’s eyes closed and she took a deep, calming breath. Oliver made sense, but she felt like she was on the precipice of something she no longer had control over. As if agreeing to date him would be a step into something unknown and from which there was no way back.

  “Honestly, I don’t know, Oliver,” she finally said because it was the truth. “I’m not even good at relationships, clearly, so I’m not really the authority, but I know myself enough to know that I like being on the yacht with you, but the rest of your life scares the living shit out of me. After we get off Chance and real life starts again, can you seriously see me at some society party? I’d stick out like a sore thumb and I have no interest in wasting my time that way.”

  Oliver gripped her hands. “I’m done with that shit, Molly. That’s why I left.”

  Molly pursed her lips because she doubted that was true. Oliver was a good person and he’d defied his parents once, but eventually he’d have to be a part of their lives.

  So she just went with the truth because that’s who she was, too. “I want to be with you, Oliver. How about the first step is that we keep talking about this and hopefully eventually we’ll come up with a solution? Not all problems are solved overnight.”

  A corner of Oliver’s mouth kicked up in wry amusement. “So what you’re saying is that I’m a big problem for you?”

  Molly laughed and ran a hand up his ridged thigh to where he was growing hard in his pants. “Yeah, but I doubt you’re one I can’t solve.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  OLIVER LET MOLLY pay for their dinner because after their conversation in the limo he felt a little invincible. He’d put himself and his feelings out there and she hadn’t run screaming in the other direction. She hadn’t picked up a bat and immediately played ball, but she hadn’t completely been put off by the idea of a relationship, which was further than they’d been just a couple days ago.

  He also felt like he might have a shot on the job front as well. He’d seen the spark of interest in her eyes as she contemplated how she would design an engine and hoped he could find a way around her thinking she’d be working for him instead of with him, which is what he truly intended to do. He wanted Molly as a partner, period.

  Based on his progress, he was already figuring out what it would take for him to move his personal office to Denver, where she was. If she remained firm on the job, he still wanted to be in her life. And he actually liked Denver a lot, so living there would be great. Though he’d live anywhere as long as he was with Molly. For a guy who wasn’t big into entanglements or personal relationships, the way he felt
about her was surprisingly not scary at all. Adjusting his life to be a part of hers felt like the most natural thing in the world. If he could find a way to make it more permanent and protect her from whatever his parents would do once they found out about her, he’d feel better about it. But she was safe for now even if the inevitable reality of his life threatened to press in on his happiness bubble, including the furious texts and calls from his parents that had been flying in at a faster pace the longer he ignored them. But he wasn’t ready to tell them where he was or who he was with because they’d never stop hounding him and he was determined to enjoy his time alone with Molly.

  A small speedboat rode them back to the yacht, where his deck crew person put it away. He walked Molly back across the main deck, holding her hand in his as he led them up to the sky lounge for drinks. Dinner had been at a casual place, but he’d had trouble keeping his hands off her all day. Her ponytail exposed the long nape of her neck, and the bright white crew neck T-shirt that outlined the swells of her breasts so clearly paired well with the fitted cropped jeans and cute yellow flip-flops that were so quintessentially Molly he couldn’t help but smile. He was dressed much the same way, just happy to be off the boat for a while.

  She sat down in a chaise longue and he carried over the two bottles of beer he’d grabbed from the bar’s mini fridge. He waited there beside her until she got the message and scooted over so he could join her, but he shook his head and pointed at her to move forward in the seat so he could sit behind her. She complied and then she was leaning into his chest with his arms around her and it was heaven. This part, the casual way they could be with each other, it was something he’d never thought he’d have. For most of his life until he’d met Molly he’d imagined a marriage and life like his parents had, distant and cold and transactional, but she’d shown him that he could have so much more. And now that he could finally have it, it was like eating clouds or drinking a rainbow, simply too wonderful to be believed.