Cozumel Escape (Destination Billionaire Romance)

by Checketts, Cami

  He unloaded bag after bag onto the porch, not sure if he should text and see if she’d come out and talk to him or if he should just leave it alone.

  The door opened behind him. “Wow. Somebody likes to spend their wads of money.”

  Brooks whirled around, and there she was, leaning against the doorframe in a tank top and yoga pants. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, revealing her slender neck. The air sucked out of him. She was beautiful, and he’d missed her more than he could ever express.

  “They’re, um, for the children.” He’d left Sydnee’s gifts at home, not sure when or if he would give them to her.

  She nodded. “It’s very thoughtful of you.”

  It was too stiff, too awkward. He couldn’t even hear her accent. “Where’s Jace?” he blurted out.

  “Back in Alabama, I assume.”

  His heart leapt at this news. She had sent the old boyfriend packing, but what if he came back? Brooks had never been so uncertain about where he stood with a woman in his life. He pushed a hand through his hair, not sure where to go from here. How to win her back, or if he even could do that emotionally right now? Was it too much to ask that she just love him? Was he really back to his childhood, where love and survival were conditional on toeing the line?

  “Do you want me to put them somewhere?” He gestured to the gifts.

  “Sure. Let’s take them into the gathering room. Rosmerta and I will wrap them tonight. Thank you.”

  He simply nodded, grabbed a pile of bags, and followed her inside. It took them far too little time to deposit everything on the tables.

  “I asked Camila,” he said. “She gave me a list of what they wanted or needed. I bought a few extra things too.”

  Sydnee reached out her hand, her blue eyes soft and welcoming. “It’s a great gesture, Brooks. Thank you.”

  He engulfed her fingers between his much larger ones and got brave enough to ask, “But is it enough?”

  She looked down. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  “I’ve missed you too,” Brooks admitted, his voice husky and uncertain.

  “Will you stay? Say hi to the children?” The begging in her blue eyes tugged at him. How could he resist her?

  Brooks shook his head. Why did it have to come back to this? He tried to extend a branch, and she wanted the entire forest. “No. I can’t, Sydnee.” Not yet. Maybe someday. Who knew what day. Would it be soon enough for her?

  “Oh, Brooks.” Her shoulders rounded. “How can I help you get past this? What are you afraid of?”

  “I’m not afraid.” He puffed out his chest and tried to look threatening. Him, afraid? He hadn’t been afraid since the night Mr. Hoffman pulled a knife out of him and taught him how to fight.

  “You are. Why?”

  She stepped closer, her eyes filled with a challenge, but also with too much sympathy. He wanted her to adore him, not feel bad for him. Brooks was afraid. Afraid of disappointing her; of losing her. He held his ground, barely.

  “Talk to me. Please. Tell me why you can’t come say hi to them.”

  He cleared his throat and waved an arm at the piles of presents. “Most women would be thrilled with the huge amounts of money I donate.”

  “I’m not most women, and while I appreciate all you do, this isn’t about the money,” she said. “They need love and attention too.”

  “Well, um, that’s what you’re doing for them.”

  “I don’t have enough time and energy for eighteen children. Oh, Brooks.” Her big blue eyes pled with him, and her voice was so earnest and kind. “You do so much for them already. Can’t you please take that next step and come wrestle with Alejandro, kick a soccer ball with Daniel, or hold baby Tomás?”

  His head shook violently. A baby. An innocent baby with no parents to love him. No. “I’ve got to go.” But he didn’t move.

  She stepped closer still, and Brooks involuntarily stepped back. “Please,” she murmured, and walked forward again. Brooks retreated until his back was against the wall.

  “You can do this, Brooks,” she said louder, and placed her hand on his chest.

  Brooks grabbed her hand, getting a little angry. What right did she have to demand this of him? Tell him he could “do this” like some peppy cheerleader. Nobody but Zack and Mr. Hoffman knew about his secrets and insecurities. He’d told them a lot of it, but only those who had been there could really understand the ache in your stomach when you didn’t know where your next meal was coming from. The constant fear of wondering who might beat you up next just because there was no one there to defend you and they liked to hear you scream.

  He wished he could explain it to Sydnee, but she came from love and would never be able to understand. She could sympathize, but he didn’t need that. He needed her to realize that he wasn’t that guy who loved and helped children who had no one.

  After more than twenty years, the agony of being deserted by the woman who should’ve loved him was still too painful. He’d waited hours on the school steps while the secretary and principal tried to find someone who wanted him. The secretary had given him some bubble gum. He’d slowly chewed it as he watched all the other children’s parents pick them up. The too-sweet bubble gum flavor had mixed with the tears he’d tried to swallow. His throat felt thick and sticky, and his stomach hurt just thinking about it. Even the scent of bubble gum could make him nauseated.

  Finally, the police came and took him to his first foster home. The first of several that seemed to only want children for the government money. He didn’t understand why they were so distant and unattached. He assumed his foster parents didn’t want to deal with him, because who would want a kid whose own mother didn’t even care if he lived or died?

  The children at Bethel had no one. He knew Sydnee, Rosmerta, and Camila tried, but it could never be the same as a whole family. Parents who thought their child was the best thing in the world and siblings who would be there for a brother. It would break him to see the sadness he’d lived with for an eternity, before Mr. Hoffman came along, etched into their innocent faces.

  Sydnee’s blue eyes were full of challenge and yearning, but he wasn’t going to back down to a pint-sized blonde no matter how much he wanted her and—yes, he could admit it—he loved her.

  “That’s enough,” he ground out. “I’m not scared of you or a bunch of children.”

  “Scared?” Her eyebrows arched up. “I didn’t say you were scared of me.”

  He held her hand in his and marveled at how small it was. It had only been a week and he’d missed every part of her. “Then why are you backing me into a wall, trying to intimidate me?”

  She gave a sad little laugh at that and placed her other hand on his chest. “You’re twice my size. How could I intimidate you?”

  “You’re pushy and you never take no for an answer. That’s as intimidating as … anything.”

  Her mouth screwed up in frustration. Brooks got temporarily distracted by how cute she was. He was sure the children adored her just like he did.

  “I’m just trying to help the children … and you.”

  “Well, forget about trying to help me. I’m fine. More than fine. I’m a billionaire playboy and I can do anything I want to do.” Better to put up his shield rather than have her see him for the wimp he was. So what if he’d dated every attractive woman on the island and had no desire to contact any of them again? How was he going to say goodbye to Sydnee when she was all he wanted?

  “I thought you wanted more. I thought you wanted me,” She whispered it, but the words penetrated to his soul, and Brooks couldn’t look away from her blue gaze.

  He wanted more. He wanted all of her, but he wanted more too. He released her hand and stood there, stunned.

  She placed both hands on his chest and raised herself up on her toes. “Let me help you, Brooks. Please, let me in.”

  “How?” His breathing was ragged as he looked down at her. She was a beautiful woman, and he’d been drawn to her for her looks
initially. But, she had more substance than just looks, and for the first time in a long time, he wanted someone to help him.

  “Let me in,” she whispered and gently tapped near his heart. “In here.”

  Brooks blinked at her and swallowed. She was so appealing, staring up at him with those big blue eyes and those soft lips. Before he could stop himself, he’d wrapped both of his hands around hers where they rested on his chest, bent down, and tasted her lips. She jerked in surprise, but then she pressed herself against him; he wrapped his arms around her waist and they fell into sync. Her lips tasted like cinnamon and were soft and moldable. She smelled just like he remembered—lemon cake or candy, sweet and intoxicating. He loved her far too much.

  She drew back too soon, her breathing as ragged as his. “I love you, Brooks. Please let me help you.”

  He released her. “I’m not ready.” Why didn’t he just tell her he loved her and get this obsession she had of him interacting with the children over with? It couldn’t be as bad as he feared. But then again, maybe it could.

  “Will you ever be?” she whispered.

  Brooks closed his eyes rather than face the disappointment in her gaze. He didn’t know the answer to her question.

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.” She walked backward two steps, her eyes fastened on his face. He had nothing to give her. He didn’t put up a hand, walk toward her, or ask her to stop.

  Her lip trembled, and she took a long breath, then whirled from him and rushed out of the room. He sat there, trying to catch his breath.

  “Guess she didn’t want to help after all,” he muttered to himself, and slipped out of the building before he saw Sydnee again—or worse, any of the children.

  20

  Sydnee, Rosmerta, and Camila wrapped presents until early morning, resorting to newspaper when they ran out of gift wrap around one a.m. Sydnee sniffled back tears the entire time. Her friends asked her a few times what was wrong. She’d just point to the presents, mutter, “Brooks,” and go back to wrapping. They finally stopped trying to draw it out of her.

  How could he be so generous with his money? He’d spent the time to buy all these presents, and that image melted her heart. She wished he would try to interact with the children. He knew how much they meant to her and how much he meant to her. Was she ever going to find a compromise between her two loves? Right now it seemed impossible.

  She gave a big sigh, stacking another present on the pile. The children were going to be thrilled tomorrow morning, and it was all due to Brooks. She needed to stop trying to change him and think about what she could change about herself. Did he just need more time? Maybe he’d be willing to meet with a therapist and talk through his past. Maybe she needed to let go of these children and just love Brooks. Her heart broke thinking about losing him or them. Patience definitely wasn’t her strong suit, but she’d wait for him. She’d do about anything for him.

  She finally climbed into bed after a tearful prayer. Tomorrow was Christmas, and she was going to make it fabulous for the children. Well, Brooks’s presents would make that job pretty easy. First break she got, she’d go to him, tell him how much she loved him and how she wanted to understand and be there for him. But what if his childhood trauma was so great he could never make these children a part of his life? Could she say goodbye to them? Daniel’s grin when he scored a goal flashed through her mind. Baby Tomás wrapping his chubby fingers around hers as she fed him a bottle. Darling María and Ella skipping around the yard, holding hands and singing.

  She heard a movement next to her bed. “Alejandro?” she whispered. He was her most common nighttime visitor. Usually a song and a prayer and she’d have him back to sleep.

  A hand clamped over her mouth and a smelly body came down hard on hers, pinning her to the bed. Sydnee grabbed at the hand, trying to pry it away as she squirmed to free herself.

  “Don’t fight me,” the man whispered harshly in her ear. Cold steel pressed against her bare throat.

  Sydnee whimpered. Was he going to rape her in her own bed? Long seconds passed, with Sydnee praying for some way to avoid what was coming and the man’s ragged breath assaulting her cheek.

  He moved the knife and she caught a full breath. He jerked her to her feet, pulling her against him. A rag was shoved in her mouth. It tasted like dirt and gasoline. The man wrapped it around the back of her head and tied it. She dry-heaved, but luckily didn’t vomit. He tied her hands behind her back. It was too dark to see her captor, but she thought his voice and smell were familiar. Her body felt like lead as he dragged her down the hallway. The nightlight illuminated the hallway, and she could see several other men dragging children out the back door.

  Brooks had paid to install an alarm after the boys had been taken last time. Why hadn’t it gone off? Were these the same traffickers or somebody else? She craned her neck to see the man holding her, and cold sweat appeared on her brow.

  “Remember me?” he taunted quietly.

  Sydnee whipped back around. Had the police released him, or had he escaped? It didn’t matter now; the man who Brooks had saved her from weeks ago was back, and no one was around to rescue them.

  * * *

  Brooks couldn’t sleep. All he could see was Sydnee’s beautiful face as she begged him to give the children a chance, and he said no, slipping back into his playboy mold who didn’t need anyone. How could he say goodbye to her? Why, when he had finally fallen in love, did it have to be with a woman who wanted him to change, to be some benevolent uncle to all these neglected children who would only open wounds he could never deal with?

  He rolled over and punched his pillow. He missed her. He missed her so much it hurt more than it should have. Like his mom had deserted him all over again. He was a mess. With all his stinking money, maybe he should hire a psychiatrist or something. Someone had to be able to fix his twisted mind.

  Sydnee. She could fix it. But how many chances was she going to give him, and could he really make the effort with the children? He might not be able to change, but he was tough and he would try. Tomorrow. His first Christmas present to her. He’d go and visit and he’d wrestle with Daniel and he’d hold a baby if that’s what it took, and if it freaked him out, he’d find the best psychiatrist he could, and he’d work through issues he’d buried for years.

  His phone vibrated on the nightstand. The orphanage’s number. Sydnee? His heart leapt. She hadn’t been able to sleep either. Dare he hope she would give him a chance to fix things?

  “Hey.” His voice was all husky and needy. He needed her more than he could ever express.

  “Mr. Hoffman! Sydnee! Los niños!” Camila started speaking so rapidly in Spanish he realized he wasn’t as fluent as he thought he was.

  “Whoa, whoa, calm down. What happened to Sydnee and the children?”

  “Se los llevaron! Men in a truck. They’re gone!” She wailed and cried and kept rattling on in Spanish.

  Brooks sprang from his bed, throwing clothes on and hurrying for his weapons room. The traffickers. José had worried they might get released by the local police before they were transferred to the mainland for trial. But Brooks had paid to have security installed. He should’ve done more. Should’ve hired guards.

  Sydnee. Not Sydnee!

  He had to hang up on Camila so he could call José. He explained the situation as quickly as he could.

  “What do you need?” his friend asked.

  Brooks liked to fight alone, but this wasn’t just a fight. It was Sydnee and her children. He knew she loved them, probably more than she loved him. “I need information. Find out where the traffickers would take them. And I need … help.”

  “All you had to do was ask. I’ll meet you at the yacht club.”

  “Will they take them to the mainland?”

  “Not if they think someone might be coming for them. If it’s the same guys as before, I’m betting on Guatemala.”

  What if it’s not the same guys? Brooks didn’t dare ask. He did the only t
hing he could—hung up and started compiling weapons.

  21

  Sydnee and four of her kids were in a small bedroom of an older yacht. Sydnee had overheard crying and talking from the rooms on both sides of theirs. How sickening that there were others being taken from their homes, too. Possibly others from her own orphanage. She’d been in a truck with only these four.

  Sydnee lay on the bed with María on her lap and Alejandro under one arm. Daniel paced the small space between the bed and the wall, bouncing a whimpering Tomás. At least the traffickers had pulled off their filthy gags and untied them. Honestly, that scared her more than if they’d been left bound and gagged. The traffickers knew they had no hope of escape. If she was alone she might jump overboard given the chance, but with the children … she was helpless.

  “Let me take him from you,” Sydnee said.

  Daniel shook his head and gestured to the children in her arms. “No. You wake them.”

  Sydnee sighed and leaned her head against the wall. Daniel was mature beyond his years. He might learn more horrors than either of them could imagine in the next little while. She thought of Brooks again. He’d been through terror like this. Possibly in a worse situation at an age even younger than Daniel.

  She’d been so wrong to push him to get over his past when she had no clue how it felt to be scared, alone, and knowing that pain, hunger, and terror were coming. At least these children had her. Brooks had had no one. She wished she could sit and hold him and he could share with her the memories, the fears, and the pain. She wished she could take it all away from him.

  She pulled María and Alejandro in tighter, blinking to keep tears at bay and praying the same broken prayer over and over again: “Please send help. Please send Brooks.”

  Brooks, light, and happiness seemed so far away. Would she ever see him again? If she did, she’d beg his forgiveness, and she would never make him change. They’d work out some kind of compromise. She’d go help at the orphanage for a few hours each day, and then she’d give every other minute to Brooks. If he ever overcame his fears of being with the children, that would be heavenly, but she’d never force him to that. She could only pray that he’d give her the chance to explain how wrong she’d been and forgive her.