Take a Chance on Me: The Oceanic Dreams Series Book Six

by Stewart, Delancey

  "If all he does is work out and pine for his lost love, he has time."

  "Am I the lost love here?" I didn't think love could be the right word. You didn't ghost someone you loved.

  "You're quick."

  "He's not pining. If he'd been pining, it wouldn't have been silent for six years." I rolled over to face her, and she rolled to face me. It felt like childhood again, each of us on our matching pink twin beds, sharing secrets.

  "Hasn't he told you anything about why he disappeared?" she asked.

  "Not really. He apologized, kind of. Said he shouldn't have left and then it was just too late." I sighed.

  "Not really an explanation."

  I rolled to my back again, my entire body feeling worn out after the long day, the rum, the dolphins and the kiss. "I don't think I can do dinner."

  "Can we do room service again? I had so much fun last night. Movies and dinner in bed." Jenny's voice sounded happier and lighter than I'd heard it since we'd gotten on board. The cruise remedy for jilted brides seemed to be working.

  "Definitely." I didn't think I could face bumping into Lincoln since I seemed to have very little self control around him suddenly.

  We had a night in, watching Dirty Dancing and enjoying our new and improved suite with burgers and milkshakes. When I finally went to sleep, my mind was quieter, though a little whisper of anticipation tickled at the back of my mind. I just wasn't sure if it was excitement over finally seeing the property I hoped to soon be managing for Perdido, or if it had something to do with Lincoln. I settled on the former and forced myself to close my eyes and sleep.

  Chapter Eight

  Day Four: Grand Cayman

  First thing the following morning, I had a call with the office, which I took on the verandah so I didn't disturb my sister.

  "We're really relying on you to assess the viability of this property, Selena," Alanna Markson told me on the phone in her direct and professional way. She was the manager of the resort where I'd been working in Miami my whole career, and the one who had been grooming me for more. "You're the perfect person to come back with solid information about the commercial marketability of the property, look at the activities that could be offered, get eyes on the high end and casual dining opportunities and let us know about the accommodations. From what we know, and from the photos we've seen during the build, the resort is built on the model of the Perdido property, but I look forward to your opinion." She paused and cleared her throat. "Especially since I've gained permission to offer you the management role if we sign the partnership."

  A spike of excitement flew through me. Yes! This was what I'd been working for—what I wanted. To live in an exotic location, managing a property of my own. "I'll do my best for you," I assured her, trying not to sound too jazzed, even though I was doing a little dance on the verandah I hoped no one could see.

  "Nothing is certain yet," she said, calming me a bit. "Make sure you get a solid view of the logistics side of things too. They've assured us there are plenty of suppliers on Cayman to bring in supplies, and that the infrastructure is solid. This certainly isn't the first property being built down there, so I'd expect things to be good, but maintain a critical eye, okay?"

  "I will."

  "How are things otherwise?" Alanna asked. Though she was my boss, we were also friends. She didn't know about Lincoln, and even if she did know that old story, I wouldn't share with my boss the fact that I'd kissed a potential business partner. Things could get a little sticky there. Alanna did actually know Lincoln, or she had six years before, when we'd both been vying for the Perdido job, but she wasn't someone I could talk to about this.

  "Things are good," I said. "We were actually upgraded to a suite, and my sister seems to be coming out of the initial horror of everything."

  "I still can’t believe a guy would do that."

  My mind darkened slightly. Men could do all kinds of hurtful things. "Yeah. He seemed like a nice guy, too."

  "It's hard to tell sometimes, I guess," Alanna said, sounding sad. She was single, too. "It's almost like we need to get some kind of outside verification about a guy's real personality."

  I thought about Arthur in Jamaica, how he'd leaned in and told me that Lincoln was a good guy, how he'd smiled as he'd talked about Lincoln making sure he had the things he needed. "Yeah," I agreed, my mind sliding slowly back to the call with Alanna.

  "Okay, well. Do good today," she said. "Call me when you're back onboard if you want. Otherwise, I'll look forward to your assessment via email in the next couple days."

  "Sounds good," I told her.

  When we hung up, I spent a few minutes sitting on the verandah, my feet up on the other chair, staring out over the sparkling turquoise bay at Grand Cayman, where we'd docked sometime during the night. Was my future there on that strip of land in the middle of the sea? And was Lincoln on the ship somewhere at this moment thinking the exact same thing?

  I hated that we were both hoping for the management position. It was exactly like it had been six years ago at Perdido. There was going to be a winner, and there was going to be a loser. And part of me worried that even if I won here, I might still feel like I'd lost something I really wanted, just like I'd felt six years ago.

  * * *

  After breakfast, we met Lincoln on deck where everyone was heading out for their shore excursions on Grand Cayman.

  "You ladies ready?" he asked. He was dressed in his uniform today, the crisp white short-sleeved shirt and slacks looking freshly ironed and very sharp on that toned, tanned body of his.

  "Look at you!" Jenny said appreciatively. "Love a man in uniform."

  I'd been thinking the same thing, but didn't feel like I could say the words. I was trying to be professional today too, and had chosen a sheath dress, low wedge sandals, and a cardigan sweater. I also had along my notebook and a list of things I wanted to make sure to see at the property.

  "You look nice too," Lincoln said to Jenny, but his eyes slid to me as he spoke, roaming once slowly down my red dress and legs, then coming back to rest on my face.

  As we boarded the little ferry to the island dock, Lincoln helped us each onboard and then sat next to us. "When we land, I've got a car waiting. I imagine it'll take several hours to see the whole property," he said.

  Jenny wrinkled her nose. "So don't get mad," she said, looking between us. "But I actually booked an excursion."

  A little smack of surprise turned my head her way. "You did?" I asked her. "When?"

  "You were on that call all morning, and I went out for a little walk."

  I hadn't heard her leave the room, and it hadn't occurred to me that my sister would be feeling independent and enthusiastic enough to book herself an excursion.

  "I met a few people signing up for a cave tour here," she said. "And they talked me into coming with."

  "You made new friends in five minutes before breakfast?" I don't know why I sounded shocked. That was Jenny. At least it was the pre-ditched-at-the-altar version of my sister. She was outgoing and friendly, and great at making friends.

  She nodded, looking worried. "Are you mad?"

  I shook my head.

  "I just knew you wouldn't want to go into a cave," she pointed out. "And if I'm doing something else, you guys can focus on work. You don't have to worry about me."

  "You're not wrong about the cave thing," I said, shivering as I thought about caves, closets, and tiny cruise ship cabins. "But you'd be totally welcome as we tour the property."

  She smiled. "I'm excited about the cave."

  "It's really amazing," Lincoln told her. "I think you'll love it."

  When the little boat docked, we said goodbye and went our separate ways. Jenny and I agreed to meet back onboard for dinner, and Lincoln and I got into the waiting taxi.

  "You ready for this?" he asked with a smile.

  "Definitely," I told him. "I'm hoping this will be my future home."

  Something sad dimmed his smile, but then it retur
ned. "I'd kind of been hoping the same thing," he said. "I guess they'll choose whoever is the right fit. I hope it won't ruin our day if we're both gunning for the position."

  "I think I can handle it."

  He didn't say anything, but his lips pressed into a tight line, and then he blew out a breath. "Yeah."

  It wasn’t the answer I'd expected. I guess I'd been looking for something more like a "me too," and instead, Lincoln looked worried. He stared out the window for a few moments as the little taxi made its way down the two-lane road, which ran parallel to the water around the edge of the island. I knew this place well, despite never having been here. I'd studied maps as the property had been built, and even consulted with Alanna and the designers about the placement of various facilities and accommodations on the resort. It was my baby in a way, and I couldn't wait to see it in person.

  We turned around the final curve, entered the private drive leading to the entrance, and finally approached a tall set of iron gates.

  Lincoln hopped out and keyed in a code, and as the big gates swung inward, he slid back into his seat. The reception area was another hundred yards or so inside the grounds, and I smiled as tall palm trees and bright blooming flowers lined the road, welcoming us. The designers had taken on a consultant from the nearby Queen Elizabeth II Botanic Park, and the results were apparent. The place looked luxurious and welcoming, abundant with well-placed foliage.

  "You said three hours?" the taxi driver asked as we hopped out of the car.

  "I'll text you," Lincoln told him. "Thanks for the ride." He slid some money to the driver, and came to stand with me in front of the grand lobby, where two tall columns flanked a double door that was both rustic and upscale at once with its mix of dark wood and white stucco. "Here we are," Lincoln said.

  A caretaker was the only current resident, and he had left the buildings unlocked for us today so we could tour at our leisure. Lincoln pulled open one of the big doors and we stepped inside.

  "Wow," I said. The lobby was every bit as welcoming as the manicured drive had been, and despite the heat—since the air conditioning wasn't on—it was amazing. The space was open and clean, a set of registration desks on one side and a concierge area on the other with low couches arranged in a circle in the center.

  "Guests will be greeted with a drink," Lincoln said, describing what was pretty much standard practice at all upscale resorts. Despite my familiarity with best practices, I liked hearing his low voice roll through the space, helping paint the picture for me of what would soon be a very impressive operation. "Golf carts wait just here to help ferry guests to their individual bungalows, and those in the main building go just through here." Lincoln led me to a set of wide stairs, which looked more like part of a mansion than a hotel. The main building was only two floors, though it housed fifty guest suites.

  "One of the rooms in this building and one of the bungalows by the water have been furnished for us to see," he said, smiling at me as we climbed the stairs. "What do you think so far?"

  I caught my breath, which had been stolen by the perfection of the resort. "It's incredible," I said, imagining myself working here, welcoming guests, managing the daily heartbeat of the place as people explored and unwound. I wanted this job.

  God, I wanted it.

  "Here we go." Lincoln was reading something on his phone, probably the room number he'd been sent so we could see a furnished suite. He opened the door to number 201, and my breath was stolen again.

  The room was wide and open, with a huge verandah overlooking the greenery of the resort grounds and offering a view of the bay, just a hundred yards or so from the hotel. I could hear the calming in and out of the water from where I stood at the railing, and the room at my back felt equally welcoming. Not only could I see myself working here, I could see myself living here happily.

  The room was a generous suite, with a living area, small kitchenette and a big bedroom through a set of double doors. The bathroom was almost as big as the bedroom, and everything was high-end. "The attention to detail is..." I stared around me, noticing the light fixtures, the throw over the armchair in the corner, even the soaps in the bathroom. "It's what I would have chosen myself."

  Lincoln was watching me, his mouth open slightly and his eyes shining as I investigated every corner of the room like a child searching for a hidden gift.

  I was practically narrating as I went, oohing and aaahing over every new find, every surprising detail. I was falling in love with the place, and a warm flush of contentment went through me at the thought of staying here, living here. "I love it," I told him. "Let's see more."

  We toured the grounds, visiting the restaurants, the pools (where I went a little nuts over the swim-up bar. Who doesn't love a swim-up bar?), the spa and gym, the event space, the dive shop and fishing center, and finally the beach.

  "Ready to see the bungalow?" Lincoln asked, leading me across the wide white sandy expanse toward the private bungalows. These were the more expensive rooms, each set in its own private garden with an outdoor shower and a clear view of the water. They were set in a way so that none of the bungalows saw the others—giving guests the feeling they were in a completely private space, on a pristine beach all alone.

  "Definitely," I said as we approached the nearest bungalow. "Oh, this is amazing." The building had its own little deck, with a couple teak lounge chairs laid out and a towel rolled at the foot of each one. There was a private shower just around the side, sheltered from view by the dense foliage and a strategic bamboo wall that blended in perfectly.

  "Can you imagine showering here, looking at the water like this?"

  Lincoln's face was serious, dark. His eyes were on me as I stood near the shower, and I had the sense suddenly he might be picturing a shower. A little flood of heat went through me as I met his eyes.

  "Can we go in?" I asked, trying to keep the flush from reaching my face.

  He cleared his throat. "Of course." He pulled open the glass door, and held it for me. I moved past him, close enough to feel the heat from his chest, to breathe in the rich masculine scent of him. There was something so familiar in that scent, something my body and heart remembered, I had to keep myself from turning into him, pressing myself against him.

  We weren't those people anymore.

  I stepped into the space and smiled. Like everything else I'd seen, it was perfect. Open, airy and touched with luxury. This room wasn't as big as one of the suites in the main hotel, but it made up for in privacy what it lacked in space.

  Clearly designed for honeymooners, the bed was the main focus of the space. I couldn't keep myself from actually climbing up to lean against the headboard to take in the view. From the bed, I could see the broad expanse of beautiful beach, the water lapping gently at the shore. The view was framed perfectly by the hanging fronds of tropical plants, and the bed itself was heavenly.

  I couldn't find words to explain how incredible it was. Everything about the resort was better than I'd hoped.

  Lincoln settled on the bed next to me, staring out at the same view. "So. We've seen it all. What do you think?"

  I sighed, happily imagining myself here. "I adore it. It's perfect."

  "You think Perdido will want to be a full partner?" He turned to look at me.

  "If I have anything to say about it, definitely. It's basically a done deal anyway. They've already invested. They just wanted to wait to put their name on it to make sure there were no snafus in the final stages."

  He was gazing intently at me as I spoke, the dark eyes serious. "And you think they'll choose you to run it?"

  I swallowed. His eyes were making it hard to think for some reason. "I mean," I stuttered. "They pretty much said so, yeah."

  "You have years of experience. It's a good choice." The full lips looked almost pouty as he said this.

  "But you're hoping for the position."

  "I've never wanted anything so much," he said, but the way his eyes moved from my eyes to my lips and back
made me wonder if he was actually talking about the job.

  A tension had been building between us all morning. All week, maybe. And I could feel it now, sizzling and snapping, demanding attention and stilling everything around us so that all I could see, feel, or think about was the man next to me. The man who was staring at me as if he might like to devour me. A man I'd allowed into my heart and soul for a long time. A long time ago.

  I took a steadying breath, my body suddenly hot and restless under Lincoln's gaze. The room seemed to buzz around us, the sound of the ocean amplifying to a roar in my ears.

  "Selena," he whispered, his voice strained and sad.

  The next second, I was in his arms, our breaths mingled, our lips pressed together. I might have moaned as my body aligned with his, every one of my curves met with part of Lincoln. And if I did moan, it was only because being next to Lincoln, being in his arms like that again, was so much like coming home.

  If we hadn't already been alone at an incredible resort in a private bungalow with a view of the beach and an enormous bed, it might not have happened.

  But it did.

  And despite my strong belief that business and pleasure could not be safely mixed in this situation, despite the stern talking-to I'd given myself after kissing Lincoln the day before, we found ourselves wrapped up in one another's arms for the next hour as we tested the bed and the privacy of that little bungalow. We didn't talk exactly, but in the process of rediscovering the man I'd loved all those years ago in a very visceral way, it felt like we had a conversation too, as if we'd cleared the air and found a way to begin again.

  I lay in the crook of Lincoln's shoulder when the frenetic edge of our encounter had been satisfied and softened, and traced my fingers along the ridges of his chest. There was one thing our sexual conversation still hadn't addressed, a question I needed him to answer.