do.” Cheyenne murmured. Liam was sucking his thumb and
cuddling into her. Distressed, Christopher looked off in the di-
rection to which Steph had retreated and then turned and left in the opposite direction.
Phillip heaved what looked like a sigh of relief and turned
to Cheyenne. He frowned as if seeing Liam for the first time.
“Let’s get the boy out of the rain.
Cheyenne tilted her head to the side condescendingly. “I
can take care of Liam, Phillip. Just go get her.” As the gentle rain turned to an outright downpour, he did just that.
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Stephanie stumbled along a path in the darkness gasping to
catch her breath. She came to a halt and leaned against a palm
tree, removing her heels. They were expensive, impractical, and
blue. Coincidently, so was she.
The rain picked up and she quickly debated about which di-
rection to turn. She needed shelter, but her room wasn’t an op-
tion. Christopher would be there. And she’d just torpedoed her
life with Christopher. Stellar. Talley up one more person hurt by her actions or inactions.
Quite the growing legacy, Red. Her inner chastisement
came to her in Pace Turner’s deep voice.
She wandered further down the rocky path, gingerly ma-
neuvering her bare feet over the slick ground. Her direction
seemed purposeful, though consciously, she was wandering.
Phillip. There was no denying the truth. She loved him. She
was in love with him. Worse, she had been all along.
She made a choking sound as she tried to suppress an angry
sob. It filled her with sorrow that it had taken so long for her to finally admit it to herself. And like a complete jackass, she’d
done so in front of him. She wanted to scream and claw her face, but she was far too tired. She’d wasted so much time and energy
lying to herself. She passed an amber bungalow and saw Saffron
lounging on the porch, smoking under the overhang.
“Hello!” Saffron called. “Need a place to dry off?”
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TAMMY COONS & MICHELLE PACE
“Thanks, I won’t melt.” Steph replied, but a second later she
was walking. She turned and approached the waif, who pushed
away from her chair and placed her cigarette to her bright red
lips. Steph paused at the bottom of the steps. She was a foot from shelter, but didn’t feel like she deserved it.
When she finally spoke, Steph lifted her chin defiantly.
“Which bungalow is Phillip’s?”
Saffron smiled as she exhaled a long cloud of smoke. This
wasn’t Saffron’s usual double entendre dirty joke smile, though.
This smile seemed to come from a place of genuine pleasure,
like a kid opening presents on Christmas morning. “His is the
second on down.”
“Thanks, Saffron.” Steph went back out into the rain and
didn’t turn back when Saffron called out after her.
“Just once I wish someone would write a song like that for me. Snog him once for me!”
Phillip’s clothes were soaking wet once again. He’d been on
a mission to find Steph, frantic to see where she was with things, to see what her admission meant for them. If it meant anything at all.
He’d searched all of the public areas of the resort for her,
but to no avail. He got an unfortunately eyeful of Yara’s mom
stuffing money into the pants of an oily male stripper as he wandered through the restaurant. Due to the rain, the dining area had been commandeered for the bachelorettes. As he watched the
strippers grind on the tables, he reminded himself to eat off-site for the rest of his stay. Yara cheered her mom on and danced
with Kara on a nearby table. David’s blushing bride wore a pair
of glow in the dark sunglasses with a penis jutting out where her nose should be. Phillip paused to watch the bridesmaids do a
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body shot off a second stripper.
Girls Gone Wild, Noronha.
That’s when he noticed that every female in the wedding
entourage was present and accounted for except for Cheyenne
and Steph. Figuring Steph might have doubled back to Chey-
enne’s, he went back out into the storm. As the door closed be-
hind him, he heard Saffron call his name over the thumping mu-
sic, but ignored her. He was a man on a mission and besides,
he’d forgotten to pack a g-string.
He checked Scot and Cheyenne’s bungalow, but Chey-
enne—who’d been tucking Liam under the covers—said she
hadn’t seen her anywhere. When he speculated that maybe he
should check her room, Cheyenne cautioned against it, arguing
that Christopher had moved in that morning. She said she doubt-
ed very much that Steph had gone back there. Phillip hoped she
was right. Stephanie was predictably unpredictable.
Defeated, he figured he should at least make an appearance
at the bachelor party, which was being held in Nathan’s bunga-
low. When he arrived, he saw the other band members sitting
around a card table playing poker and smoking cigars. There
were three blow up dolls tossed around as some sort of half-
assed décor, and a giant Love Swing hung in the center of the
room. Phillip strongly suspected that the final item wasn’t for the bachelor party.
“Wow.” Nathan removed his Cuban from his lips and took
in Phillip’s appearance with outright amusement. “Do you own
any clothes that are dry clean only?”
“Bugger off.” He sighed dispassionately as he took his
place at the table. “Deal me in.”
“Bout time you got here.” Bret handed him a cold beer.
Phillip popped it open and chugged it in an effort to catch up. A moment later, he crushed it and stood to grab another one.
“A bit thirsty tonight, Phil?” David stifled a laugh. Scot, his
cigar clamped between his teeth, cocked an eyebrow at Phillip as 191
TAMMY COONS & MICHELLE PACE
he popped his second can open.
“Yep. What did I miss?” Phillip responded. He intended to
shove all thoughts of Steph out of his mind. He had no idea what to make of her declaration, but until he found her, it was pretty pointless to speculate.
“I just explained to David that if he needs it, I have a yacht
on standby. Storm or no storm, we can make a quick getaway if
he’s changed his mind.” Nathan’s retort was met with eye rolls
all around.
“Are you taking him up on that offer, D.J. Dave?” Phillip
tilted his head in David’s direction. David smiled and flicked the ashes off his cigar with a shake of his head.
“No. She’s my soul mate. Even though she’s been the engi-
neer of The Crazy Train this week, she’s my one and only.”
“Ahhhhh…” Nathan said, fanning himself sardonically,
“It’s all so sweet I just want to vomit.”
David smirked at him and flipped him a backward V.
“So,” David started, “Scot and Bret: as the experienced
husbands I know, any words of wisdom?”
Bret chortled. “I’m pretty sure I’m the last one here you
want marital advice from.”
“Hey…stop with all that. You two are just going through a
rough patch. This is all still fixable, as long as you manage to keep your John Thomas in your pa
nts till we get home,” Scot
assured him. Bret appeared doubtful, but Phillip nodded in
agreement and put a cigar to his lips. Nathan tossed him a Zippo which he snatched out of the air.
“Have you spoken with her?” David asked him softly, as if
trying not to wake a sleeping bear. Bret stared at his cards intently. He shook his head.
“She won’t answer her phone. I don’t even know if she’s
alive or dead.”
“She took Steph’s call the other night at the bar.” Nathan
offered. Bret shot him a stunned look, as did everyone else at the 192
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table. “So she’s most definitely alive.”
Suddenly Bret seemed to crumble, and his voice broke as he
spoke. “What did I do? I don’t understand why we can’t make
this right.”
Scot, David, and Phillip exchanged concerned looks.
“You’ll work it out. Steph obviously knows something, so
press her for details. When we get home, find Sarah and make
her talk to you.” Scot suggested, putting a supportive hand on
Bret’s shoulder.
Bret nodded. “If Fury’s this much of a problem, I’ll
leave…but if she doesn’t want me, this is my livelihood, and it’s all I have. I feel like I’m at a crossroads, and I have no idea which direction to turn.”
Bret stood suddenly and tore off for the restroom. Nathan
threw his cards down on the table and picked up his scotch.
“Everything is a soap opera with you blokes these days.”
Scot turned on Nathan and surveyed him like a strange life
form. “One of these days Nathan, some woman is going to reach
into your chest and yank out your still beating heart. Then you’ll finally get it.”
“I highly doubt that will ever happen.” Nathan chuckled as
he blew out smoke in perfectly shaped O’s.
Phillip shook his head and finished his second beer. “Oh,
it’ll happen. And you’ll look back on the simplicity of this time in your life, and you’ll still want her. Then you’ll know you’re in love, and you’ll be as right fucked as the rest of us.”
All eyes turned to Phillip. There was a collective silence as
the three men seemed to communicate silently.
“Something you’d like to talk about Phillip? Some feelings
you’d like to share?” Nathan purred in his typically taunting
way. From the restroom came the familiar sound of Bret heaving
up his dinner.
“Same old, same old. Nothing new with me,” Phillip replied
and grabbed a third beer. David plucked it from his hand.
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TAMMY COONS & MICHELLE PACE
“There’s only one toilet in this bungalow, and Bret’s al-
ready puking in it. Slow the hell down.”
Phillip took it back from him and popped it open. “Leave
me alone.”
Bret stumbled out of the restroom. He was pale, with red-
rimmed eyes. David stood up.
“Dude, it’s time for you to drink a liter or two of water and
get a night’s sleep. I don’t need you looking green at the wed-
ding.”
“Yep,” Nathan agreed. “Let’s get Cinderella home before
she turns into a pumpkin.”
David and Nathan dragged Bret out the door. Scot gathered
the abandoned playing cards into a pile. Phillip stacked the poker chips and began to toss beer cans in the garbage.
“Party killer.” Scot joked.
Phillip smirked. “You ditching me?”
“Yeah, I’m going to take this opportunity to go be with my
wife and son. I’m pretty surprised you even showed up here to-
night.”
Phillip tamped out his cigar in one movement. “Why’s
that?”
“Cheyenne told me.” Scot’s face left no doubt what he was
referring to. “What do you want Kersey? An engraved bloody
invitation?”
Scot walked out the door and left Phillip alone. With no fur-
ther distraction, he let the gravity of the truth sink in. Steph had said it. The words. And now he was afraid. Knowing Christopher was no longer an obstacle and there was no bathroom door to
shield them from one another gave him pause. There was noth-
ing at all standing between them now, and he felt like a man teetering on the edge of a cliff. Too jump or not to jump, that was the question.
He ran a hand over his damp hair and knew he was kidding
himself. He’d never had a choice at all when it came to Stepha-
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nie. Their fate was in her hands. If he’d have found her on his
hunt earlier, he would have done whatever she asked. He fin-
ished his final beer and wandered outside into the night. He
slowly trudged back to his bungalow, having exhausted his
search for her and exhausted himself in the process. Stephanie knew how to find him. And she knew where he lived. She’d
come to him when she was ready, or she wouldn’t. And he’d just
deal with whatever she decided. He kicked glumly at a rock in
his path and focused on the calming sound of the water as it
crashed against the rocks below.
He approached the bungalow and saw someone near the
door. His heart hummed like a freshly tuned engine as he drew
close. It was her. Stephanie sat on his porch, slumped against his door. Her eyes were closed and her arms hugged her knees close
to her chest. She looked like she’d been there for some time, like she might even be sleeping.
He took the first step, and the sound of his footstep made
her open her eyes. She instantly pulled herself to standing. He
closed the distance between them and paused, waiting to see
what she would say or do. Neither of them spoke or moved for
what seemed like forever. Phillip stood his ground; she needed to make the first move this time.
Stephanie stepped forward and looped her fingers in his belt
loop, pulling him into her. She was on her tiptoes, and her fin-
gers were on his neck, pulling his face down toward hers. She
embraced him, one arm around his neck and one grasping his
cheek. She planted a kiss on his forehead, his cheek, and his nose as if claiming each as her territory.
“What changed your mind?’ he whispered, his voice sound-
ing horse. He felt her cheek against rub against his as she continued to cling to him. She pulled back and ran a hand over his
stubble. Her guarded eyes found his.
“Nothing. I’m just done running,” she whispered, matching
his gaze boldly. She pulled his lips to hers, and Phillip fell into 195
TAMMY COONS & MICHELLE PACE
her breathless, pressing the full length of his body against her.
Their tongues danced, and his heart slammed against the wall of
his chest. As her kisses slowed to a tease, he blindly fumbled
with the doorknob beside her. He felt it release, and he wrapped his arm around her waist as the door fell away.
He guided her as if they were dancing backwards into his
room, never removing his mouth from hers. She raked her hands
through his hair, letting out a squeal as he groped her round ass.
He pulled the decorative comb from her hair and watched with
admiration as her hair toppled around her shoulders. Steph barely seemed to notice; her mouth was on his neck, and her fingers
worked eagerly on the buckle of his belt.
Phillip g
rabbed her wrist, pulling them away from his fly.
He shook his head. She pulled back, eyeing him doubtfully.
“Don’t move.” He ordered and then walked around behind
her in a slow semicircle. He brushed her long copper hair aside, and he planted several wet kisses on the back of her exposed
neck. She sighed blissfully and arched back against him. He felt a sinful grin playing on his lips. He always loved the way she
responded to him, and he was thrilled that time hadn’t dulled her enthusiasm. He slowly inched down the zipper of her dress, and
when it fell open, he pushed the damp material over her shoul-
ders. He trailed his fingertips along her spine, enamored with her soft ivory skin. The dress fell to the floor around her ankles, and a soft moan escaped her.
He reached out and unfastened her see-through bra with a
single flick of his fingers. It immediately joined her dress on the floor. She visibly shivered as he completed his circle around her and stood before her biting his lip thoughtfully. He ran his index finger from her throat to her navel, dropping to his knees to plant soft kisses on each breast, her stomach, and her scar. He looked up at her suddenly, wanting her to see that its presence had no
impact on his desire for her. He descended further south and
planted wet kisses in several more interesting places on her anat-196
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omy that left her gasping.
He sat back on his heels and offered her his hand. Her eyes
were glassy with desire as she took it for support and stepped out of her dress. He stood and she tugged on his hand, beckoning
him to the canopied bed that dominated the room. He paused and
watched as she crawled across the comforter, enjoying the shape
of her nearly nude body as she moved away from him. When she
rolled onto her back, she gave him a welcoming look.
Phillip slowly removed his clothes, his eyes glued to Steph-
anie’s. He hated to blink, for fear that it was all a glorious dream and that she’d evaporate like an apparition. When he was finally nude, he joined her, and she attacked him. As she straddled his
lap and their lips met, there was no denying it. They were back.
Their otherworldly magnetism hadn’t faded. Her touch seared
him like the white hot heat of the sun, and her responses left no doubt she felt the same.
Inpatient, he flipped her over on her stomach. He reveled at
the warm smooth flesh or her ass which she pressed back against
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