by Rye Hart
Memories of our time together always brought me back to three of the best months of my life.
She was a hot, incredibly smart and sexy twenty-year old co-ed, and I was a twenty-six-year-old millionaire. I was on the hot track to make my first billion before I turned twenty-seven and her curves called to me in spades. I had spotted her from clear across the room. Those beautiful kaleidoscope eyes that wouldn’t settle on a color, drew me in. Her small waist flared out into a thick pair of hips, while her breasts poured out the top of the strapless dress she wore.
Her lips were ruby red, and her brown hair brushed her shoulders. Her legs were thick and toned, boasting of how she took care of her body. Her cheeks had rosy little apple peaks when she smiled, and I could smell the desire radiating from her that night.
She grabbed my attention with her beauty, and once we spoke I was hooked. She had serious brains and grand ambitions.
I fucked it up.
It was a three-month fling that went nowhere because I was way too busy with my company.
Even so, those three months I was with her were the most memorable of my life. She was wild in bed and we could talk about just about anything. And we had a damn good time doing so. Unfortunately, the timing couldn’t have been worse.
The age difference had been hard enough, but my company had been on the cusp of something grand. I’d started it in my garage at eighteen years old, foregoing school and using my intelligence to build something worthwhile instead. I sold my security equipment on the open market, competing with some of the greatest in the industry. In my first year of business, I secured a business loan that enabled me to build my own headquarters in Los Angeles. In the second year of business and with a second launch of high-end security products, I’d paid off that loan and was able to hire a full-time staff. My success climbed exponentially as I developed new technologies, and by the time I was twenty-two, I was able to hire my own staff to develop my ideas for me.
When I met Brooke, my company had been about to launch internationally. Time was more precious than ever, and I spent more hours in the office than I did at my home.
Which meant I spent a lot of time forgetting about dates I had set with her.
I wasn’t ready for a relationship. I wasn't excusing what I’d done, but I’d made a clear choice. I chose my company over the woman I was falling for, and I paid the price for it. I met Sarah a couple of months later, her birth control failed, and that started us on a roller coaster ride that almost did me in.
Once I knew I could become a father, it was like I had a fire light up inside me. Until then, all I gave a damn about was my career and success, but that quickly changed when the pregnancy test came out positive.
I grew up with a father that I barely knew and had always vowed to be the best damn dad I could be to my own children. I’d convinced Sarah to marry me and to carry the pregnancy to term because it felt like the right thing to do, but things quickly imploded once the twins were born.
One morning I woke up and she was gone. Her shit was packed, the kids were still in their cribs, and there was nothing except divorce papers in my mailbox waiting for me to sign. She was all too pleased to get her 50% share of my wealth. Once I got over the shock of it, I couldn’t sign those fuckers fast enough.
I’d make my money back easily enough.
We were better off without a woman that didn’t want to be in our lives.
My phone rang in my pocket and I pulled it out. It was from a number I didn’t recognize. I swiped at my screen and opened up the message, figuring it was from Owen.
He was always breaking his cell phones.
Didn’t know if you had my new number. It was nice seeing you on the island. Maybe we could get together for a drink? -Sarah
Nope. Definitely not Owen.
What the hell was Sarah doing? I hadn’t spoken with her in years, and now she wanted to fucking get drinks? The woman was delusional, and the last thing I was going to do was open that door back up. My children were at stake in that situation. And she already had a reputation of walking out and taking as much money with her as she could in the process. There was no way in hell I was getting drinks with that woman unless she wanted to specifically talk about the children.
Other than that, the door was staying closed.
For good.
I placed the cell phone in my back pocket, ready to erase Sarah’s memory from my mind for the rest of the night. I had better things to do.
The doorbell ringing pulled me from my trance. The kids went running down the hallway and pulled open the door, and my eyes fell directly onto Brooke. Focusing for a moment on the tight jeans that clung to those thick thighs.
The same thighs I could remember her wrapping around my face.
Her shirt fluttered nicely over her chest, where her prominent cleavage was exposed, revealing a sneak peek of her breasts, round and tanned from the sun.
But the flowing material of her blouse left a bit to the imagination.
I’d always loved that about her. How her clothes showed her off as well as covered her up.
Clearing my throat, I invited them in before Daniel shut the door behind them.
“It smells good in here,” Morgan said.
“If you want to come into the kitchen, I’ve got plenty of wine for us to drink,” I said.
Brooke walked past me, and I could tell she was impressed with the best. My home may have been a bit much to take in at first, but it was home-sweet-home to myself and my kids.
Fuck.
It’s going to be hard to keep my eyes off that ass.
“You have a chef in here?” Morgan asked.
I grinned as I ushered Brooke into the kitchen.
I picked up a glass of wine and handed it to her before turning to give Brooke hers.
“Daddy? Can I have some milk?” Sydney asked.
“Me too!” Daniel said.
“Of course. Let me get you guys some cups. Why don’t you go sit at the table?” I asked.
They scurried off and I could feel Brooke’s eyes on me. I was pretty sure Morgan was making some sort of joke behind my back, but I didn't care. I knew dessert was almost done and then all of us would be sitting at the same table, trying to act like this history didn’t exist between us.
“How have you been, Brooke?” I asked.
Her eyes met mine and I could see a flash of pain move across them before it fluttered away.
“I’ve been good,” she said. “What about you?”
“Life has been good to me, despite some disruptions,” I said.
“I can tell by this house,” Morgan said. “Are you renting?”
“Morgan, it’s really—” Brooke said.
“It’s okay. Really. Actually, I own it, Morgan. I bought it a few weeks ago.”
“You just—saw it and wanted it so you bought it,” Morgan said.
“Isn’t that how it works?” I asked.
“If you’ve got money, sure,” Morgan said.
Brooke looked like she wished the floor would open up and swallow her whole. “Jesus Morgan,” she mumbled.
I shook my head. “Well, she’s right. I guess you could say I do okay. I’ve been very fortunate,” I said. “So, what are you doing here in Nassau, Brooke?” I asked.
“She’s trying to get over a shitty ex,” Morgan blurted out.
“Morgan!” Brooke exclaimed. “Language.”
Morgan looked over at my kids, who’s own eyes were wide as saucers, and her cheeks flushed. “Oops. I’m really sorry,” she said sheepishly.
“What’s a x?” Sydney asked.
I tried to think of a way to answer that question in a way they would understand, but Brooke started talking before I could.
“It’s kind of like someone you aren’t friends with anymore,” she said.
“Were they mean to you?” Daniel asked.
“Yeah, kind of,” Brooke answered.
“Daddy says we should be nice to everyone,” Sydne
y piped up.
I shifted uncomfortably on my feet when Brooke’s eyes lifted to meet mine.
“He’s right,” she said.
“I’ll be nice to you,” Sydney said.
“Mee too!” Daniel added.
Brooke giggled at the kids before she reached over and ruffled Daniel’s hair.
“You guys are really sweet. Thank you,” she said. “But I’m fine. I promise.”
Dessert with the gang was actually a pretty good time. Brooke told me that she had graduated with her English degree and that she was currently working on a book.
The evening gave me time to study Brooke, to take in her beauty and enjoy being around her again, watching how easy it was for her to interact with my children.
They even wanted her to tuck them into bed after dessert.
“She really liked you, you know,” Morgan said quietly so only I could hear.
I watched Brooke help my daughter into her pajamas.
“I liked her, too,” I said.
“Then why did you forget about her, Kevin? I don’t get it.”
“I never forgot about her. I just… got caught up.”
“You can spin it however you want, but all I know is I spent more time picking her up from restaurants where she waited alone than I ever did hearing about the hot times she had getting laid,” she said. “I dried more tears than I ever should have, and somehow she still found it hard to let you go.”
“It was just really bad timing,” I said.
I watched as Brooke tucked Sydney in, kissing her forehead and smiling down at her.
Fuck. Sydney’s own mother had never even looked at her like that.
“I was twenty-six and too wrapped up in my own success. What happened between us was my fault. I screwed it up. I’ll never deny that,” I said.
“All I know is Brooke is here nursing one broken heart, and I don’t intend to let her get another one along the way,” Morgan said.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Not my story to tell. But don’t fuck this up for her. She needs this vacation. For her book and for herself.”
I watched Brooke’s hips sway as she walked out of the bedroom.
“All done,” she said.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I said.
“Oh, it’s fine. They were really easy to put down. Daniel wanted a book and Sydney wanted a kiss,” she said.
“You’re really good with them.”
“They’re good kids, Kevin. You’ve done well with them,” she said.
She didn’t even question the fact that there wasn’t a woman in the picture. She probably just assumed that I’d fucked up that relationship too.
“I’ll walk you guys out,” I said.
I escorted the girls to the door, but I was reluctant to let them go. I wanted to see Brooke again. My kids seemed to enjoy her, and so did I. The Caribbean night sky hung heavily above and cast a romantic glow over everything. The sand was tinted a beautiful white by the full moon and the whole of the small town seemed illuminated with passion. I reached my hand out and grabbed onto Brooke’s, and her fingers reflexively clamped down around mine.
Her palm was soft and warm, and still fit delicately into my hand.
She turned toward me, her beautiful eyes staring up at mine. I could see Morgan at the end of the driveway, staring at us and watching it all unfold. I allowed my thumb to trace circles on the top of her skin before I dropped her hand, and said her name.
Brooke never looked more beautiful than when she was bathed in moonlight.
“Yes?” she asked.
I drew in a deep breath and decided to jump right into the deep end.
“I know you’re writing a book, and that sometimes inspiration can strike at different moments,” I said.
“Sometimes, yeah.”
“You know where to find me if inspiration strikes. You can use the porch, or one of the rooms, or hide away in the loft.”
“That’s very kind of you, Kevin. Thanks,” she said.
“And if I had your number, I could get in touch with you. Like if the kids and I decided to go to another scenic part of the island. It might help get the creative juices flowing.”
“My number.”
“Mhm.”
“You want my number?”
“I do,” I said.
I watched her mull over the offer as I held my breath.
I was a confident man.
A strong man.
Dominant, even.
I ran my company with efficiency and never took ‘no’ for an answer.
But standing in front of Brooke and waiting for her answer made me feel like a kid trying to make amends for breaking a priceless family heirloom.
“Okay,” Brooke said. “Give me your phone.”
I handed her my phone and she quickly tapped her number into it. I grinned down at her, watching as she walked back to her best friend. The two of them linked arms before they started walking down the beach.
I watched until they disappeared from sight, then I looked down at my phone.
I had Brooke’s number.
And I fully intended to use it.
Her heart was clearly still broken from what I did, and her recent ex.
Now, it was my mission to mend it back together.
CHAPTER 4
BROOKE
I always relished the stillness of the morning.
Though, as I sat at my laptop, a sense of dread came over me while I stared at the blinking cursor.
The coffee pot in my room was filling the hut with its glorious perfume as the sun slowly rose up over the water. The crystal-clear mirror of the ocean was unwavering.
It was early, too early for anyone else on vacation to be up, which made it the perfect time of day to try and get some writing in. I wanted nothing more than to finish a book and get it published. It was the perfect story: a woman seeking love in all the wrong places, who finally comes to find that the only person she really needed to love was herself.
Something witty and fun, but also relatable, tugging at the heartstrings of readers.
Leaning forward, I managed to pound out another paragraph before the coffee pot beeped.
I got up to make a cup as I leaned against the wall. Nassau Island was picturesque, and the perfect place to write my first novel to publish. I wanted something that would introduce me to the market in the light I wanted to be painted. I wanted to write books that people could relate to, books with characters they could understand and lessons they could carry with them. I wanted to give advice they could take for whenever they needed it.
I didn’t want to write for the money or the fame. I wanted to write to pull people from their lives and delve with them into truths we don’t always want to admit to ourselves.
And in the process, what I wanted most was to discover more about myself.
After finishing my cup of coffee, I sat back down and stared at the page. An opening line and one paragraph, and I didn’t know how to continue from there. Why in the world was this so hard? In college, I could rattle three hundred pages away in a month.
No problem.
Writer’s block had never been an issue, but now it seemed to be a major struggle. The one thing keeping me from writing what my fingers wanted desperately to communicate.
I leaned back into my chair as the sun rose above the water. People were beginning to stir and now the mirrored reflection of the ocean was muddled with vacationers diving in. The island was coming alive with children and families, and it forced my mind back to the other night.
Back to Kevin and his kids and that mouth-watering dessert.
I’d had so much fun. Even though that wasn’t the purpose of the outing, I did enjoy my time with Kevin. I’d forgotten how easy it was to talk with him, how safe I felt whenever I was around him. The conversation was light-hearted and easy, and his children were little carbon copies of him. Sydney, with that confident sass and Daniel with his sincere express
ions.
Despite what I chose to focus on, my time with Kevin hadn’t been all bad.
I closed my eyes and slipped back in time to college, to the first time I’d seen Kevin in that bar. His chiseled jaw and high cheekbones showcased his dominance, but it was his large hand that caught my eye. It dwarfed the glass he was drinking from and made me painfully aware of other things that could dwarf me if I had the chance to get underneath his clothes. His chest pulled at the shirt he was wearing, and his shoulders were swollen with muscles.
Even as I sat in my chair in my bedroom, heat surged between my legs.
I’d fallen for him quickly in the three months we’d known one another, which was new territory for me and something I’d never done before. I’d had my share of flings as a wild college girl, but I’d never allowed myself to fall for any of them.
But I did with Kevin.
It was hard not to.
He was hot, he was driven, and he was an older man and capable of showing a twenty-year-old wild child how a real man treated a woman. You know, except for standing her up for multiple dinners.
But what had really drawn me to him was his intelligence. Once I peeled away the cocky layers and the incessant need to throw his money around, I found an intelligent man who was self-made, confident, and well-spoken. His body was something for my eyes to behold, but his mind was something for my heart to behold. Whenever he was around, our conversations never ceased. He was genuinely interested in my college career and I was genuinely interested in his business.
That was the paradox of Kevin. When he’d been good, he’d been very, very good. But when he’d been preoccupied with work, it had seemed like I didn’t exist. After being stood up one too many times, I’d broken it off, and what had really hurt, was that he hadn’t fought me on it one bit. He had simply said nothing as I walked away. Then six months later, a wedding announcement popped up in the local newspaper. Kevin was engaged to a woman named Sarah, and that was that. I had been nothing but a fun last fling before he had found a suitable wife for a billionaire entrepreneur.
I wondered where his wife was, since he and the kids appeared to be alone on the island.
Were they history?