PARADISE COVE - 3 BOOK SET: PARADISE COVE SERIES

by Patrice Wilton

  “Can’t you take a day off?”

  “Nope. That would leave Taylor and Kayla on their own. Monday’s our only day off.” She yawned. “But it’s only from seven until two. I’ll survive. Besides it’s fun working alongside my sisters.”

  “Do you think you’ll stay?” His eyes were steady on hers, and she didn’t know what he was thinking. “Here at Paradise Cove, I mean. You have so much energy that I can’t imagine you in the Keys forever.”

  “I’m not sure, but I have no place else I want to go. Not now, anyway.” She tossed her messy hair back off her shoulders. “Never thought I’d be happy serving people, but I find myself smiling every day.”

  “That’s good. Funny how things change over time. I must admit that I enjoyed my job at the ad agency for the first couple of years, but after awhile I began to hate it. Every day I’d put on my suit and drive to the office, and my insides would be churning. A person needs to enjoy and believe in what they are doing, or get out. Find another line of work.”

  “Exactly.” She blew him a kiss and headed for the door. The second it was opened Max came flying in, took a leap and landed on Chase’s sculpted chest. Smart dog. Who knew what great abs were hidden behind his collared dress shirts?

  “Looks like you’ve got company.” The dog happily licked his face. “Hope he’s not a better kisser than me.”

  “This is just cruel,” he said with a chuckle, pushing Max aside. “I’d been dreaming of more of your kisses, and this is what I get?”

  “He’s your first love,” she sang over her shoulder. “I’m just a nice diversion. A vacation romance.”

  Before he had a chance to answer she slipped out the door. She was a mature adult, and knew it was true. They could enjoy their time together during his stay, and then he’d go back to New York. Either as a promising playwright or to the ad exec job he hated.

  Paradise Cove was not in his future. It offered nothing for a man of his talents. And after the past evening, she knew he had plenty.

  When she unlocked the front door and crept back into her cottage, she noticed her mother’s bedroom door was closed. She had sent her a text last night on the drive home to say she’d be staying with Chase, so she wouldn’t worry that she’d been kidnapped by Jose. And reminded her to lock the doors.

  It was still too early for anyone to be up, including her. She crawled into her bed, hoping to catch another hour’s rest before her busy day began.

  Lying there, she thought about Chase’s question. What did she intend to do with her life? She had always thought dancing was her future, her calling or whatever, but now it seemed to be her past. Would she be content to stay at the resort and embrace the low-key lifestyle like her sisters and her mother, or would restlessness return, and drive her away from paradise?

  Only time would tell. Right now she was happy. She’d take one day at a time. She’d learned from her life’s experience not to expect anything more.

  The next thing she knew light filtered through her window and she could smell the heavenly scent of coffee. For the second time that morning she slipped out of bed. She wrapped a bathrobe around herself and shuffled to the kitchen.

  “Morning, Mom. Coffee smells good.”

  “Morning, lazy-head.” Anna sat at the table with her coffee and croissant. She gave her a knowing look. “You had a good night?”

  “The best!” She didn’t even try to hide her smile. “Chase has more than a few secrets. He’s a really amazing dancer.” She poured herself a cup of coffee, adding a heavy dose of cream before she faced her mother. “His mom made him take ballroom dancing when he was a kid, and he kickboxes too. But that’s another story.”

  “Don’t leave me hanging. Tell me.”

  Her smile faded, thinking about the bullies who’d attacked him, and how easily he could have been seriously hurt. “Thank God for his martial arts skills,” she said, taking the seat next to her mom at the kitchen table. “We were at Lorelei’s dancing and these two Neanderthals decided to heckle him. They waited for us to leave and jumped him in the parking lot. If he hadn’t known how to protect himself he’d be in the hospital right now.”

  “Is he okay?” Anna’s dark eyes rounded with concern. “What about you?”

  “I’m fine. They didn’t go after me. But poor Chase ended up with a bloody nose and a few bruises. Luckily his nose wasn’t broken.” She drank her coffee, needing the caffeine. “He took both men down. I think I should take up kickboxing. Boy, was he good.”

  “Well, I don’t advocate violence of any kind, but I’m glad he was able to defend himself.” Anna picked up her croissant. “I prefer a gun. Less messy.”

  “Oh, Mom.” Brittany rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe you own a gun. Did you have to special-order it in pink?”

  “No. After your father died I went to a gun show, and there it was. Had my name on it. Never had a chance to use it though,” she said, with a scowl. “All those shooting lessons, and not once did I fire my weapon for real.”

  “Well, thank the Good Lord. And you should be grateful.” Brittany leaned back in her chair, eyeing her mom. “You’re only pint-size. Can you imagine how terrifying it would be if someone actually wanted to do you harm? Even a pistol might not be enough. Just stay safe. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  “No, neither do I. I’m just being silly. It wasn’t a very good joke. After all, I have grandbabies now, and I want to be around to see them grow up.” Anna stood up and put her coffee cup and plate in the dishwasher, and the remaining croissants back in the fridge. “Speaking of babies, little ’Meri should be here soon. Such a precious child.”

  “I better get showered and dressed before Taylor fires me.”

  “As if she would. Are you happy, Brit?”

  “I am, Mom. I can honestly say, I’ve never been happier.” She needed to clarify. “It’s not just because of Chase, although I do enjoy his company. But I’m happy to be home, with you and my sisters.”

  “That’s the best news I’ve heard in years.”

  * * *

  “Morning, Taylor.” Brittany wore a pair of jean short-shorts, and a white peasant blouse that exposed her tanned shoulders. Her long hair was washed and flowing down to her waist. And she was smiling. A lot.

  She might need to tame that down, or the secret would be out.

  “Hey, Brit.” Taylor turned around, took one look at her and grinned. “Wow. Look at you. Something’s up. What is it?”

  “Nothing. Can’t a girl feel happy once in a while?”

  “A girl can be happy anytime. But you have that glow. You know the one I mean. Usually accompanies great sex with a very good man.”

  Brittany turned her back, grabbed some berries from the fridge and put them in a blender with ice, granola, and a tablespoon of protein. “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said and turned the blender on high.

  The noise put an end to the conversation—at least for a minute.

  “Oh, yes you do. You’re not five. And you’re not innocent either.” Taylor hitched her butt on a stool, and took a sip of her iced mocha latte.

  “So what do you want to hear? I went out with Chase last night. Dinner at Chef Michael’s, which was fabulous, and then dancing at Lorelei’s. We had fun.”

  “That’s cool. Anything missing in this story?”

  “Well…turns out, our super nice guest has some secrets. He’s a ballroom dancer. And very good, I might add.” She sipped her health drink, then put it down, and did a few dance moves. “We did the tango together, and stopped the crowd. People were standing around us watching and cheering. Some hecklers, too.”

  “Always a few jerks in any crowd,” Taylor said with a sympathetic voice.

  “I’ve really missed dancing. Especially for fun.” She grinned and spun around. “I couldn’t believe it. He said something to the band, then they played salsa music. He beckoned me onto the floor, and took the lead.”

  “I’m thrilled that you me
t such a great guy who knows how to dance.” Taylor stroked the condensation on her glass, a slight smile on her lips. “What else can he do?”

  “Kickbox. Those hecklers I told you about? They pounced on him in the parking lot as we were leaving.”

  “Oh, that’s terrible. What happened?”

  Brittany told her, and was spared anything further as the door opened, and Kayla walked in. Taylor filled her in on the details while Brittany washed down the tables and set out placemats and cutlery.

  She didn’t want to answer any more questions about their evening together, or about Chase, or why she couldn’t get the silly grin off her face or her feet to stop dancing.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The moment Brittany left Chase got out of bed, rummaged for his sweatpants, and took Max outside to do his thing. When the incorrigible Corgi kept tugging at the leash and nipping at Chase’s feet, he gave in and took the dog for a stroll on the beach. Max was happy jumping into the breaking waves, and he walked along beside him. His gaze settled on the sparkling blue sea, and he breathed in the salty air, but his mind kept flashing in graphic detail to his night with Brittany. She got to him. No doubt about it.

  He whistled a happy tune, and couldn’t keep the sappy grin off his face as he tossed a piece of driftwood for Max to chase. It had been a long time since he’d felt this much for a girl. But she was special, the kind of woman he’d call a keeper. How were they to manage that with her life here and his in New York? Long distance relationships rarely worked, but he didn’t want to give her up when the play was done.

  Not by a long shot. The thought of another man being where he’d been twisted his gut in two. She belonged to him now. At least, he hoped she did.

  He returned to his cabin, where he fed Max, showered and dressed in shorts and a blue tee, a plan for the evening in mind. Chase grabbed his car keys and headed to the nearest market to buy two choice rib-eyes, baked potatoes, salad fixings and some fruit.

  On his way out of the shop, he noticed a flower stand and stopped to make a purchase. Choosing a variety of bright blossoms, he then asked the young woman if she’d mind arranging them in a vase.

  “Lucky lady,” she said with a smile, sorting the blossoms in a wide-mouthed frosted vase. “You staying around here?” she asked.

  “At the Paradise Cove cottages. Here for a month. Maybe more.”

  “Hope you like it.” She glanced at his ring-free hand as she gave him the arrangement. “Come back again real soon. We don’t get many out-of-towners staying more than a few days. I could maybe show you around.”

  “That’s real nice of you, but I’m here working. Thanks just the same.”

  He waved and left, eager to get back “home” again. When he’d arrived at the resort a couple of weeks ago, he’d been going through a mini midlife crisis. Wanting to change his career, his life. He still did, but now he wanted someone to share it with him. He’d been divorced and single long enough. Brittany had shown him that.

  He was ready to open his heart again, to share his bed, and make that special someone a vital part of his life. He just hadn’t figured out the logistics, and wasn’t sure if the lady in question would want to prolong their affair. One thing he did know—he planned on doing a lot of romancing. Starting now.

  He’d invite Brittany for dinner at the cottage, and do some more dancing. They didn’t need a band, or Lorelei’s, to enjoy music and each other. They had an empty beach and Pandora on his Bluetooth—the possibilities were endless.

  His days were numbered here in Paradise, but he hadn’t felt this hopeful in a long time. Even a jaded guy like him deserved a little love that wasn’t pet-related.

  Opening the cottage door, he found Max waiting with an eager tail wag as he sniffed the bag that held the steaks.

  “Sorry, old boy. But you have to wait for the leftovers.” He tossed him a new rawhide chew in compensation, fixed the table, and put the flowers in the center. Then he realized he had no place to write. Obviously all that love-making had dulled his brain.

  Removing the flowers and a place setting, he put his laptop where it belonged, kicked off his shoes and sat down to work. The muse flowed, and he could barely type fast enough to keep up with his ideas. He scribbled them down to edit later.

  It was close to one o’clock when his stomach grumbled, reminding him he’d had nothing to eat this morning. He closed the computer, took Max outside, then shooed him back into the cabin and headed on foot to Taylor’s Cafe. Plan One was about to launch.

  Kayla saw him first, and nudged her sister.

  Brittany looked up, and a happy expression crossed her face. When she finished with her customer, she sauntered over. His heart raced as she approached. Damn, he wanted to kiss her. To claim her. Right here in front of everybody.

  “Hi.” She smiled and he breathed in the scent of her. “What can I get for you, Mister Chase?” She gave him a teasing smile, her slender hand on her hip.

  He was seated at his favorite table, one for two, where he had a good view of the chalkboard menu, and the attractive women running the place. “You might know what I want,” he replied, his gaze drinking her in with appreciation.

  “I might.” She smoothed the front of her short hot pink apron, drawing his eyes to the curve of her hip. “A seafood quiche? A lobster taco?”

  “Keep guessing.” He wanted to reach out and touch her so bad it hurt. To kiss that sexy mouth, and feel her warm body next to his own.

  She sighed and rolled her shoulder, pretending not to enjoy this foreplay. But she knew as well as he that that’s exactly what it was. They would be in bed together before the day was through.

  “You going to stare at me, or tell me what you want?” Her eyes danced with mischief, making him smile in return.

  “I want the same thing I had last night,” he answered, his low voice steady as he looked up at her. He shifted on the padded cushion of the chair.

  “Is that right?” She folded her arms under her breasts, pumping them up, and leaned against his table.

  Remembering the shape and feel of her nipples, he swallowed hard. “Oh, yeah. I’m absolutely sure of it.”

  “Including the bloody nose and bruised chin?”

  He checked his arousal or else he wouldn’t be able to walk back to his cabin. “I’ll pass on that. I’ll take a double order of what happened next.”

  “That was a special menu. Not sure if we’re serving that today.”

  “Miss Brittany, I came here to formally invite you to dinner. I bought steaks, and if you don’t join me, well, guess it’ll be Max’s lucky night.”

  “I like steak.” She dropped her hands and brought her head down to his ear, her breath warm. “And men that cook them.”

  Heat flared through him, followed by raw aching need. “I haven’t met a steak I can’t handle.”

  “You’re pretty good at a lot of things, aren’t you?”

  “I have a few accomplishments to be proud of. Like making you do something not once, but twice.”

  Her cheeks flushed with color. “We couldn’t possibly double that order,” she whispered. “Absolutely not.”

  “Well, a single helping will be enough.” He leaned back in his seat. “So what were your specials again? I was distracted by your mouth and wasn’t listening.” He patted his flat stomach. “I didn’t eat this morning.”

  “Why not?” She smoothed a curl over her ear and whispered, “You need to keep up your stamina.”

  He caressed her wrist with his thumb. “What I wanted was gone.”

  Her laughter was pleasure to his ears. “What are you in the mood for? We have a crab cake sandwich or lobster tacos. Can’t go wrong with either.”

  “The crab cake sounds awfully good. With tartar sauce?”

  “Cilantro sauce, even better. Trust me, you’ll like it.”

  “I already do.”

  She winked and sashayed away. He could watch the swing of her hips forever.

  Chase ordered a
beer, wanting to take his time instead of hurrying back. Only things waiting for him at his new “home” were Max and a computer. He still had several hours in the afternoon to work, and ideas to flesh out.

  Right now, a hot meal and a hot dame had his undivided attention.

  By half past one, the lunch crowd had weaned out and Brittany took a moment to sit down opposite him and steal a few of his fries.

  “What time do you want me?”

  “Ten minutes ago.”

  She nipped another fry, dipping it in the extra cilantro sauce she’d added to his plate. “These are good. Our Taylor is a fabulous cook. Me? Not so much.”

  “You were not made to cook. You’re the Queen Fairy and should be waited on.”

  She shook her head, but by the glint in her eye, he knew she was pleased by the comment. “You’re crazy, know that?”

  “It’s part of being a writer. You’ve got to be a little nuts.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because it’s a brutal business. Did you know that Stephen King was rejected thirty times before he finally got published? And J.K. Rowling had a whopping twelve publishers turn down her first Potter book. How about that woman who wrote Fifty Shades? Turned down everywhere, then she published it on her own. Had such tremendous success that only then did a publisher come knocking on her door. A loud knock, I might add.”

  Brittany crossed one long leg over the other as she sat back and scrutinized him. “Is that your own fear talking?”

  He ran a hand over his chin. “I hope not.” He shrugged and gave her a shamefaced grin. “Story’s taking shape. Everything’s moving into place. I’m going back to work this afternoon, and maybe I’ll share my latest scenes with you after dinner.”

  “I’ll come by around six. Is that too early?”

  “Six is perfect. And I have a surprise for you.”

  “I don’t need any surprises. You are surprise enough.”

  He waggled his brows. “You’re going to like it.”

  “Okay. I’ll bite. What is it?”