The Right Guy

by Kate O'Keeffe

  “What’s going—”

  We both stop to allow the other to speak.

  “You go,” I say.

  “No, you.”

  I nod. “I need to tell you something, and I’m not sure how to say it.”

  “I always find it’s best to just spit it out.”

  “Okay. Even though I bet you’re going to think I’ve gone mildly insane.”

  “Tay Tay, I’ve thought that for years.” He’s teasing me.

  I roll my eyes. “I’m serious.” I look down at my hands. “I’ve been told I’m going to meet ‘the one.’”

  “The one what?”

  “You know, ‘the one.’ The man I’m going to end up with.”

  “Okaaay.”

  I press on, regardless of Jake’s obvious skepticism. “This man will be wearing an orange shirt. A blood-red orange shirt. And he’s going to have green eyes, the color of a tropical ocean.”

  He raises his eyebrows at me. “That’s kinda specific. Who told you this?”

  “A psychic.” I steal myself, waiting for his inevitable reaction.

  He leans back on the bed and laughs, throwing his head back. “A psychic told you?”

  “I know, laugh all you like. I’m trying to explain here.”

  “That’s a good one. A weird one, but a good one.”

  I don’t crack a smile. “It’s the truth.”

  He leans toward me, across the bed. “Tay Tay, you don’t believe in psychics. Remember?”

  “Yeah. That’s right, usually. Only, I do. This time, anyway.” I sit, self-conscious, as he studies me.

  “Let me get this straight. You’re telling me a person who claims to be able to see the future told you some guy in an orange shirt would be ‘the one,’ and you believe it?”

  I nod. “Within the next week.”

  “Who was it, Doc Brown? You got a DeLorean stashed somewhere around here?”

  I raise my eyebrows at his Back to the Future joke. “I get it, Jake. It seems crazy, especially for me. At first, I didn’t believe it, either. I mean, you know me, right? I don’t usually fall for this type of thing. But she was so convincing. She knew things, things no one else could have known.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like she knew about my nana’s cat and how my mom forgets to brush her all the time.”

  “A cat?”

  “Yes, a cat. There’s more, too.” I swallow, the memory of Nana’s words whispered in my mind. “She talked about my nana. She said she wondered if I was happy with the way I live my life.”

  His features soften. “You loved your nana.”

  “I did.”

  “Are you happy with the way you live your life?”

  I look into his eyes. “I am, or, I thought I was. Only, her saying that made me realize that maybe there was something missing.”

  “Was this last weekend before we saw you at Joe’s?”

  I nod, wondering whether he’s putting two and two together and coming up with why I just tried to seduce him in my half drunken state.

  “And this guy is meant to be wearing an orange shirt?”

  I nod again. “Blood-red orange.”

  I place my hands palms down on the bed. “I thought you deserved to know why I’ve been acting a little, I don’t know, different. That’s all.”

  “Right.”

  “You don’t have to believe what the psychic told me. Can you please accept that I do?”

  He studies my face. “All right. Let’s say for argument’s sake this psychic is right. Are you just going to go up to every guy in an orange shirt to check out his eye color?”

  “Please don’t judge me.”

  “Not even a little?” His eyes dance, and I smile, despite myself. “Putting this psychic’s prediction aside, I didn’t know you were there, you know, in that place.”

  “In what place?”

  “Looking for someone to spend your life with, I guess.”

  I pause to think before I speak, chewing on my lip. “I am. Having someone in my life would be . . . nice. More than nice.”

  “I get that.”

  My eyebrows spring upwards. “You do? The great Jake Harrison, conqueror of thousands, lover—”

  “Well, not thousands,” he interrupts.

  “Excuse me, I haven’t finished,” I quip. “Conqueror of thousands, lover extraordinaire, voted most likely to break a multitude of hearts. That Jake Harrison gets why someone might want to settle down?”

  “Not when you use the words ‘settle down’ I don’t.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  He smiles. “Yeah, I do. And contrary to some people’s opinions, I’m not some dog that goes after every bitch I see.”

  “Sure you’re not. But it’s true; some of them have been total bitches.”

  He shakes his head good-humoredly. “I give up.”

  My smile is triumphant.

  “You’re right about one thing, though: I am an extraordinary lover.”

  A laugh escapes my lips. “Um, speaking of that sort of thing,” I begin. “I think we need to address the elephant in the room.”

  He raises his eyebrows at me and waits.

  “You know, me kissing you earlier, trying to, ah, seduce you?”

  “Oh. That.”

  “Sorry about that. I was confused, and you were there and, well, you know.”

  His jaw tenses. “Yeah. Sure. I was there.” He looks away and runs his fingers through his hair.

  “I was drunk, and not myself. We’re friends. And I totally value that, above all else. You and your family, that’s what’s important to me.”

  “Yeah, I get it. No worries, Tay Tay.”

  Tay Tay. We’re back to childhood nicknames.

  “We good then?”

  “We’re good.”

  “Awesome.” I shoot him a smile, my brain running a mile a minute. Shouldn’t I feel more relieved he’s let me off the hook so easily? That he simply accepts my explanation for why I tried to seduce him?

  As the door clicks behind him, I stand there, wondering if I’ve done the right thing. Wondering whether maybe, just maybe, Jake could, in fact, be the right guy for me.

  And the thought scares me half to death.

  CHAPTER 15

  Jake

  “And this is me and Tim after we ate the churros.” Ash thrusts her camera in my face. “See. I’ve got powdered sugar on my lips.”

  “Mm-hmm,” I reply, about as interested in seeing powdered sugar on my sister’s lips as I am seeing Tim on them.

  “Oh, and look! This is with Chloe and Lacey and me. Don’t we look cute?”

  I lift my hand and press the phone away. “Ash, it’s awesome you had such a great night, but I just want to chill for a bit, ’kay?”

  “Oh, I get it. Too much to drink last night again. Geez, brother, two nights in a row? I never knew you drank that much.”

  My mind darts to Taylor’s drunken kiss and how hard I’d had to fight not to give in and tell her what she means to me—an almost insurmountable task. “Yeah. Something like that,” I mutter.

  I adjust my position on the pool recliner, feeling the sun’s heat on my bare chest. It’s only eight thirty in the morning, but I’ve already done a workout in the hotel gym, showered, gotten into my trunks, and eaten my breakfast.

  I deserve some time to relax.

  I’m not usually much of a morning person. You can’t be when you work in the restaurant business. It’s late nights most nights of the week. Mornings are for catching up on sleep and getting ready to face it all again. Truth is, I couldn’t sleep last night. I tossed and turned all night, unable to switch my mind off.

  No points for guessing why.

  “Drink coffee. Lots of it. That’s my advice.” Ash stretches out on the lounge chair next to me, holding a magazine.

  “You got a hangover, Harrison?”

  I open my eyes to see Tim standing at the end of my lounge chair, blocking the sun. He’s holdi
ng a couple of tall glasses of ice water in his hands.

  “He’s not admitting it, but I bet he does. I saw him downing those shots with Chloe last night,” Ash says.

  “Doing shots with Chloe, huh?” Tim says suggestively.

  I don’t react.

  He puts one of the drinks on the plastic table between Ash and me.

  Ash bolts upright in her chair. “Tell me you didn’t. You know my friends are off limits, and that includes Chloe.”

  “Relax. I didn’t.” I close my eyes.

  “Morning,” a feminine voice says.

  I open my eyes again and look up, my heart sinking when I see it’s not Taylor.

  Dude, get a grip!

  Everyone greets Phoebe, and she drops her beach bag on a recliner next to Tim. I concentrate on trying to relax, soaking up the sun. The girls are chatting, and Tim seems happy to chill as he listens to some music. And I need not to think.

  A drip of sweat rolls down my chest. It’s hot for this early. We’re in for a stifling one. I push myself up onto my elbows and squint out at the sparkling blue pool to my right. Cooling off would work right about now.

  Without a word, I get up and take a walk past the group over to the pool. I stand, my toes hanging over the edge, and look out at the view. It’s an infinity pool so it appears to meet the deep blue of the sea. I stretch my arms up and dive in. It’s cool and refreshing, and I swim under water, enjoying the lack of chatter, the lack of Ashley’s insistence I’m some sort of alcoholic, thinking only of reaching the other side.

  I come up for air at the far edge of the pool.

  There’s a woman beside me, her long, dark, hair wet, hanging down her back. She turns and smiles at me absentmindedly. The smile drops the moment she sees who I am.

  Taylor.

  She’s wearing the same red bikini she wore at the beach yesterday, and my body responds in an instant at the sight. I look into her eyes, expecting her to comment on what a nice day it is, maybe smile again and look away.

  Instead, she simply gazes back at me, her big blue eyes full of something, something I can’t quite read. But to me, it sure looks a lot like longing. There’s a shift between us. And in that shift, I know. Last night wasn’t just some drunken pass.

  Taylor has feelings for me.

  “Hey.” Her voice is breathless, her eyes electric.

  “Hey.” My eyes drift to her full, wet lips. They’re parted, ready. Ready to be claimed.

  By me.

  “Taylor, I—” I struggle to find the words. I mean, how do I say it? How do I say she’s all I ever think about, that I’ve wanted to be with her for so, so long? How do I say that I turned her down last night because she was wasted and it wouldn’t be right, not because I didn’t have feelings for her?

  In the end, she beats me to it. “Last night. That kiss.”

  Caution be damned. I got to kiss those lips twice yesterday. So what if telling her what she means to me will expose my vulnerability. In this moment, right here and now with her looking impossibly sexy in that bikini, and knowing that at least last night, she wanted to be with me, I make a decision.

  “Yeah, that kiss. You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that.” My voice is low, full of want.

  Her beautiful lips form an “o,” and she takes a sharp intake of breath. “But you pulled away. You left.”

  “Not because I wanted to. Because you’d virtually drunk the club dry. I-I didn’t know if you felt it, too.”

  She places her hand over her heart. “Felt what, exactly?”

  I don’t say another word. Instead, I glide through the water and slide my hands around her waist. The touch of her skin sends waves up my arms and right down my body, hitting their target below like a bolt of lightning.

  Holy hell. If just touching her belly gets to me this much, I’m a dead man.

  I glide the final inches through the water until we are almost touching. She doesn’t pull away. Instead, her eyes darken.

  “It wasn’t just that I’d had too much to drink,” she says, her voice low and breathless. She reaches up to slide her hands around my neck, looking up at me.

  Trembling with the depth of feelings I have for this beautiful woman, I place my hand on her cheek, bend down, and brush my lips gently against hers. I breathe in her delicious scent, tasting her as though for the first time. As we kiss, all the nerve endings in my body seem to be concentrated in my lips.

  Well, not all of them.

  She responds by moving herself closer to me, and I crush my lips against hers, my need for her rising in its urgency so that it numbs my brain to everything but the sensation of her. I slip my tongue inside, and she glides hers against mine, the intensity of our kiss moving up a notch—or twenty.

  I pull away from her, breathless with my desire. “Taylor. You’ve got to know how I feel about you.”

  The look on her gorgeous face is unreadable—maybe lust and steely resolve mixed up with something else. “No talking,” she breathes as she pulls me back into another kiss and presses her body against mine under the water.

  Yeah, I can get totally on board with this version of Taylor Jennings.

  “I’ll go get some towels,” she says as we break the kiss for some air. “Meet you at your room in five?”

  A shot of need runs through me. “You don’t have to tell me twice.” And then I pause, thinking of what’s at stake here, thinking of that look on her face. Sure, we shared that kiss together when we were teenagers—the one that’s been in my head ever since—but taking this next step here and now, well, it’ll change things between us.

  And for me, there can be no going back.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  I know, I hear it. I’m giving her an out, letting her call the shots. Which is the right thing to do, despite the crushing need I feel for her, despite the fact I’ve wanted to be with her for so long.

  Her eyes meet mine, and there’s that look on her face again like she’s fighting something inside. I want to collect her in my arms and reassure her, tell her that what I feel for her is real, that this is no quick fling to me. That I feel things for her I’ve not felt for any woman before. But we’re now at the other edge of the pool with swimmers and people lounging on recliners a stone’s throw away.

  “Are you?”

  “Hell, yes.”

  Her face breaks into a smile. “Well then. What’s your room number?”

  This woman. She’ll be the death of me.

  CHAPTER 16

  Taylor

  I don’t stop to think about what I’m doing. I don’t want to. If I do, I might end up changing my mind. And I don’t want to do that.

  I want to be with Jake.

  Last night, after that fumbled pass I made at him, I resolved not to act on my feelings again. He’d made it patently clear he didn’t want me—even if his face (and other things) had screamed otherwise. But as I sobered up, I knew he was right. Being with Jake last night would have been a huge mistake.

  So, when I woke up this morning with a mouth full of cotton wool and a bunch of construction workers operating jackhammers in my head, I resolved to search for the man with the tropical ocean green eyes in an orange shirt. That’s where I should be putting my efforts—not wasting my time on a player like Jake, the kind of guy who sweet talks his way into a woman’s life only to chew her up and spit her right out.

  When I sat up, I realized I was feeling a whole load better than I’d expected. I spotted the Alka-Seltzer and Advil Jake had bought me on the nightstand. They’d obviously worked.

  I resolved there and then to thank him as I went off on my mission to find “the one.” Thank him for his pharmaceutical kindness and go on my merry, man-in-orange-shirt-hunting way.

  Easy.

  Wrong. Oh so wrong.

  When I saw him in the pool, his tan, taut skin glistening, his wet hair slicked back, his eyes greener than I’d ever seen them? Well, let’s say my resolve slipped.

&nb
sp; Or, rather, totally frigging collapsed.

  And that kiss? I was convinced yesterday’s kiss was incredible, the very best I’d had. But the way he kissed me in the pool. Oh, my. It was a curl-your-toes, melt-your-insides, never-want-to-come-up-for-air kind of kiss. The kind of kiss that makes you forget your own name.

  That’s when I stopped thinking about what I was doing. That’s when I stopped thinking about what’s at stake. Caution, meet the wind. You’re going to hang out together for a while. I’ve got something I need to do, and I don’t need you hanging around, making me second guess myself.

  And now I’m standing outside his room, having dropped a towel poolside for him to dry off, waiting for him impatiently. Wondering if I’m going to lose my nerve. Knowing he’s all I want, even if it can only be for now with a man like Jake.

  With a ping of the electronic bell, I hear the elevator doors slide open down the hall, and then I see him, striding toward me, towel in one hand, wet trunks clinging to his strong legs. His muscles ripple with each step, his stride purposeful, masculine, aimed directly at me.

  A shiver rushes through me, leaving me tingling. I know I want this. More than anything. I stand up straighter, adjust my bikini top. I’m full of anticipation—and nervous as all heck.

  He reaches my side, his eyes on me. The look on his face tells me how much he wants this, too. He slots his keycard in the door and pushes it open. He stands back, and I walk inside. Without a word, he closes the door behind us and steps over to me, dropping his towel on the floor. He peels my towel from around my waist, throwing it on top of his.

  My breath shortens.

  He takes my face in his hands, tilts my face up, and presses his lips against mine.

  I breathe in his masculine scent mixed with chlorine and sun lotion.

  As the kiss deepens, he coaxes me into a frenzy.

  The taste of him, the way his soft lips feel on mine, is almost overwhelming.

  As I said, I can think about what I’m doing later.

  “Taylor,” he murmurs against my mouth. He presses his large, firm body against me, his arousal more than evident beneath his trunks.