by Skye Jordan
“Can’t wait to hear these. Go ahead, shoot.”
I just dive in. “No kissing. None of what you pulled tonight.”
“That could barely even be categorized as a kiss,” he says. “So, I agree, I won’t kiss you like that again. I’ll kiss you like I mean it.”
With my lips still tingling from what he calls barely a kiss, my heart skips. What would it feel like to have him kiss me like he means it? My bones soften, giving me a little preview.
“You really do have a comprehension problem,” I tell him.
“You can’t make anyone believe we’re together if we don’t kiss. In an effort to be magnanimous, I’ll agree to no tongue.” Then he adds, “In public.”
The idea of his tongue touching me—anyplace—is ridiculously erotic. “Somehow, I knew you’d be complicated below the surface.”
“That’s me,” he says. “Deep.”
I snort a laugh and decide to drop the kissing subject because it’s making me need that fan from KT’s shop. “No dates.”
He sighs like I exasperate him. “We’re supposed to be involved, the very definition of dating.”
“Fine, then, no private dates. Only group dates.”
“Having other people around may help you from acting on your impulses, but it won’t keep you any safer from mine.”
My stomach floats, giving me an uneasy giddy sensation. I remind myself he’s joking. He’s always joking.
“In light of the way you tried to twist the no-kissing rule,” I say, “I feel the need to make this crystal clear: no sex.”
Those dark eyes turn on me. “Say sex again.”
“No. Sex.”
He grins. “To say no sex means you must have actually thought about sex with me, which I call a win. So, I’ll agree to no sex—until you’re ready.”
“Oh my God,” I groan. “And, like I said, you have to stop dating other women.”
“You actually sound jealous.”
“Hardly.”
“No sex with you and no dating other women? Sounds like a serious cockblock.”
“You have no one to blame but yourself.” I take a deep breath and address the last rule I can think of. “I know this is a given, but because you’re being so obtuse tonight, I’m going to make this crystal clear: no falling in love for real.”
He chuckles in that smoldering way that melts panties and says, “Prepare yourself, sugar. I’ve been told I’m pretty damned loveable.”
6
Xavier
Twenty-four hours later, I park my police unit behind Chloe’s car again in the packed parking lot and make my way toward her boat.
I’ve been looking forward to this all damned day. After kissing her last night, I haven’t been able to think about anything else, which made it a good day to work in a small town where next to nothing ever happens. Normally, this is the last kind of event I’d want to attend, but I’m looking forward to seeing Chloe in her realm. And, fake or not, I can’t wait to claim her as mine.
I check out the people coming in from their houseboats on dinghys, mooring at another dock and heading toward the conference center, some making a pit stop at the market, but I don’t see Bodhi.
I could have traded vehicles at home when I changed out of my uniform, but I want to make a point of letting Bodhi know I’m going to be in his face the entire time he’s here.
Just as I step onto the dock, I hear “Uncle Z” and turn to find Piper rushing toward me. She’s wearing the quasi-uniform for most resort personnel, a turquoise tee with the resort logo and black shorts.
“Hey, you,” I say as she approaches. “What do you think of the job?”
“It’s awesome.” She stops in front of me, clearly excited about something. She glances past me down the dock, then meets my gaze again. “Is it true? Are you and Chloe dating?”
Shit.
I absolutely did not take Piper into consideration when I created this charade. “Uh, yeah, about that—”
“That’s incredible.” She’s bouncing on her toes, barely able to hold her excitement back, her eyes are wide and bright. “She’s so cool.”
“Where did you hear—”
“At school. Becky Wade told Stephanie Cole who told—”
“Okay, never mind. Look, Piper—”
“I have to get back to work. I just wanted to tell you not to screw it up, okay? She’s super cool, and she’s really nice to me.”
Well, shit. I can’t burst her bubble right now, but I may be able to get information.
“Have you seen the guy speaking at the retreat?” I ask.
“Yeah,” Piper says. “Bodhi. He’s nice.”
“Stay away from him,” I tell her. “He’s bad news.”
She rolls her eyes. “You think everyone is bad news.”
“He’s Chloe’s ex, and he hurt her badly.”
That makes Piper pause. “Really?”
“Yeah. If you see him doing anything hinky, you let me know. There’s nothing I’d like to do more than put him in jail for the night.”
“Did you just say hinky?” She puts up both hands. “Never mind. Just don’t ever say that word in my presence again.”
“Hey,” I say, “about Chloe and me—”
But Piper’s already on her way back to the patio, calling, “Don’t mess it up, Uncle Z,” before she turns and jogs to the market and disappears inside.
“Man, telling her the truth is going to suck so hard,” I mutter under my breath as I head toward Chloe’s boat again. I can already hear Piper bitching at me for coming down on her for every little white lie, only to perpetuate my own huge lie.
Then again, if I can convince Chloe to take a real chance on me, there will be no lie to address.
When I reach Chloe’s door, I find it wide open, and even though it’s a perfect night to have the breeze flowing through enclosed spaces, I’m both irritated and uneasy. I’ve got myself convinced Bodhi’s over here when I swing the screen open and move through the boat. “Chloe?”
I stop in her bedroom doorway to the sight of her in nothing but bra and panties, hand against her chest. “You scared me. What’s wrong?”
My tongue is suddenly two sizes too big for my mouth. Sure, I’ve seen Chloe in a bikini now and then, but somehow, this is different. Her matching bra and panties definitely qualify as lingerie. Pink, lacy, sheer lingerie. No white granny panties for this woman, not that I ever thought that’s what she’d wear, but somehow, I also didn’t expect the soft, feminine, mouthwatering strips of lace barely covering her either.
Blood surges south, and my irritation rises. “What in the fuck are you doing? The door is wide open. Anyone could walk in here.”
“Civilized people knock.” She blows out a long breath. “Jesus, don’t scare me like that.”
“If you think Bodhi would knock, you’re delusional.”
She gives me my second eye roll of the night. “Get out so I can finish getting dressed.”
I should leave. I really should. Instead, I lean my shoulder against the doorjamb between the bedroom and the living room and cross my arms.
“The purple one,” I say.
“What?”
I lift my chin toward the two dresses laid out on the bed. “The dress. Wear the purple one.”
She picks up the purple dress, steps into it, and slides her arms through the straps, then turns away from me. “Since you’re not going to leave, can you zip me up?”
In the two steps it takes to reach her, I’m intoxicated. She collects her long honey-blonde hair into a ponytail and pulls it forward, over her shoulder. She smells exotic, like that incense she sometimes burns in her studio.
I trail a finger up her spine where the zipper would close, right to the base of her neck, where I press a lingering kiss.
“Xavier.” Annoyance edges her voice, but the gooseflesh rising along her neck gives her away. “Are you going to zip or not?”
“I am.” I put a hand at her waist. “But don�
��t you want to know what I’d do right now if I was really your boyfriend?”
She hesitates. “Definitely not.”
I circle her waist and pull her back against me. “I’d slide my hands under your skirt, drag those pretty panties down your legs—”
“Xavier, zip me. Now.”
“I love your bossy side.”
I zip her dress, then hug her from behind again. The feel of her gives me a head rush. She’s small but strong and no one has ever felt so good in my arms.
“We should practice,” I murmur at her ear. “You know, pretending we’re hot for each other.”
She pulls at my arms and steps away from me. “I’m adding ‘no practicing’ to the rule list.”
“There was no agreement to amend the rules.”
“There is now.”
“That’s not an agreement. That’s a dictatorship.”
“Whatever.” She slides into sandals and picks up a large recycled bag covered in sketches of women in various yoga poses and filled with papers and office supplies. “Let’s go.”
I hold out my hand for hers. This woman has been nothing but impossible to pin down over the last year. I shouldn’t be surprised she’s holding hard and fast to rules, but I am disappointed she doesn’t seem to be swayed by what feels like explosive chemistry. Then again, it’s always been there for me—from the first time I saw her in the grocery store.
She takes my hand without argument. I see that as a good sign. Once we clear the dock, we head toward the conference center along the main road. It’s a five-minute walk, and the cool night air feels good. At least I don’t have to fight to get her to hold my hand, which seems even more hopeful because no one is watching us. Maybe, little by little, us playing boyfriend-girlfriend will become so natural, it’ll just continue after this retreat is over.
My mind snags on that idea and tumbles backward, searching for the last time I wanted to keep a woman around for more than ten days.
“Did you see Piper?” she asks. “She’s working at the market tonight.”
“I did. She evidently heard about us dating from friends.”
Chloe darts a frown my way. “Oh, shoot. I didn’t think about that.”
“Me either. Not until she ran up to me as soon as I got out of my car and told me how cool you were and how I’d better not screw it up.”
Chloe laughs. “I love that kid.”
The conference center is lit up and buzzing with activity. There’s a positive, upbeat energy in the air amid conversation and laughter.
We find a quiet corner on the deck while others make their way inside. Chloe takes a deep breath, then sighs it out. “Once I go in, there’s no telling when I’ll get out, but you don’t have to stay.”
I catch sight of Bodhi approaching from behind Chloe and divert my gaze back to her beautiful face. I step in, slide my arms around her waist, and ease her against me. “Ready to make this look real?”
“I, um, what—”
I lift one hand to her face and lower my head to kiss her. She tenses and makes a noise of surprise against my lips, but after a second, her lashes flutter and close. Her lips are just as full and soft as I remember, and, damn, I want so much more than this. So much more. I should have known better than to play with fire. I should have known I couldn’t pull off this fake relationship without getting burned.
I’m working up the strength to let her go when her muscles soften and she leans into me. When her hand fists in the back of my shirt and a sexy little moan vibrates in her throat.
My brain skids sideways. I tighten my arm and move my lips against hers. A sliver of my brain is keeping track of what’s happening around us, but the rest of it is on standby, just absorbing the feel of her lips parting and kissing me back. I’m on autopilot when I stroke my tongue across her lip, but she must have forgotten all about the no-tongue-in-public rule, because her tongue touches mine, and a fucking rocket launches through my body.
I take the kiss deeper. Fuck Bodhi. Fuck the conference attendees. I’ve been waiting for this woman for a goddamned year, and she’s finally kissing me back. Which means she’s just as lost in the kiss as I am, because every one of her red lights just turned green. I wish time would stop and everyone would disappear. All I can think about is how little she’s got on under this dress, how good she tastes, and how amazing it feels to have her relaxing into me instead of keeping up all her barriers. I want her so badly, my teeth ache.
By the time a throat clearing draws us apart, my heart is racing like a jackrabbit.
“Good evening,” Bodhi says.
But Chloe’s looking at me, blue eyes dark with passion, lips a little swollen. She lowers her head and looks straight at my chest, closes her eyes for a deliberate second, then turns to face Bodhi.
“Good evening.” She takes my hand and meets my gaze. “Ready?”
When I nod, she sidesteps Bodhi, holding tight to my hand, and I’m, once again, floored by this woman’s moxie. Very few women would have the guts to face a man who betrayed her the way Bodhi betrayed Chloe, let alone do it with maturity and grace.
Bodhi follows us inside like a tail, and we stand at the back of the space, watching people take their seats.
“There’s been a change of plans,” she tells Bodhi.
He turns toward her. “What’s that?”
Chloe pulls a sheet of paper from her bag. “This is the new conference schedule.”
Bodhi scans the sheet. His shoulders lower and his jaw pulses, and when he meets Chloe’s gaze again, the spark is gone from his eyes. I don’t blame him. I know the feeling of Chloe slipping away.
“I’m disappointed,” he says, “but I understand. It’s good to see you taking care of yourself.”
Bodhi gives me a nod and heads toward the front of the room, folding the schedule and sliding it into his pocket.
“Well.” Chloe exhales. “That was easier than I expected.”
“Little too easy,” I say.
“You really have to stop doubting everyone.”
“You really have to stop trusting everyone,” I counter.
She shakes her head, then gives my hand a squeeze. “I’ll catch up with you after?”
“I’ll be right here.”
She smiles, then shocks me by pushing up on her toes to kiss me again. Her lips linger, and when she pulls away, she meets my gaze directly, with a soft “Thank you.”
I touch her cheek, then she’s gone, walking toward the front of the room and leaving me with bees in my belly and something completely foreign burning a path through my heart.
I could be in real trouble here.
Sure, I’ve wanted to sleep with her from the moment we met. Yes, our friendship is deep and important. But what I’m feeling right now is different from both of those things.
“You two sure make that look easy.” The murmur comes from behind me on the left, but I know it’s Laiyla before I look. She steps up beside me, crosses her arms, and tosses me a smile. “Maybe it’ll stick.”
“A boy can dream.”
Laiyla laughs.
Chloe makes her way to the front of the room, climbs the short stairway to the stage, and lifts the microphone. She tents both hands around the mic and gives a slight bow. “Namaste.”
The entire room responds, “Namaste.”
As Chloe welcomes everyone, whatever demons plaguing her dissolve, and she becomes the lively, vibrant, friendly, warm, and funny woman I know. The audience loves her immediately.
“Damn,” I say softly, “she’s good at this.”
“One of the best I’ve ever seen. She has the resort booked solid for an entire year. There’s already a waiting list for the following year.”
Her spirit lifts the energy in the room, brightening everyone’s faces. Bodhi stands off to the side, riveted and grinning ear to ear. It’s an affectionate, proud expression that bugs the shit out of me. He doesn’t deserve to feel proud of her now. It was the heartache he caused that pushed
Chloe to the next level, but it could just as easily have crushed her. Bodhi didn’t care either way. All he thought about was getting his rocks off.
“Let’s start these precious ten days together with a prayer.”
Everyone goes silent. No one even shifts in their chairs. With her eyes closed, the microphone held in praying hands, she leads the group in a prayer that’s certainly different from the prayers I was taught as a kid. She calls on Archangel Michael—whoever that is—and asks for guidance for everyone here tonight. She speaks of spirit and energy, love, union, compassion, patience, and that term that I associate with bullshit—enlightenment. Only, when it’s coming from Chloe, I find myself believing it means something truly illuminating.
As is always the case when I see a new side of Chloe, I’m impressed as hell.
“She was beside herself last night,” Laiyla whispers to me. “She tries so hard to make everyone happy. Wants so badly to be liked. As a recovering pleaser, and someone who spent twenty-nine and a half of my first thirty years fighting for my parents’ unconditional love, I know Chloe feels like she’s walking a tightrope with five different weights hanging off her limbs right now—the resort’s success, the commitment she made to me and KT, her friendship with you, loyalty to the retreat attendees, her own damaged heart…”
Chloe closes out the prayer and slips right back into the easy, upbeat speaker who welcomed everyone. She talks a little about the resort and how it came to be, explains this group is their first conference and that she’ll have lots of special surprises for them throughout their stay. She adds all the information they need for a wonderful retreat, including her personal cell phone number in case anyone has an emergency—physical, emotional, or spiritual.
I don’t love the idea that her cell number is now in the hands of three hundred strangers, but it also doesn’t surprise me that she offered it and means every word she says.
Chloe is explaining there will be hors d’oeuvres and drinks available in the next room shortly, mentions being available anytime to autograph her book, and wishes the group a peaceful and illuminating retreat.
Then she sets down the microphone and walks past Bodhi with nothing but a polite nod.