by Amie Denman
“Should we eat this pie now or find something a little more substantial?” he asked.
She smiled. “Hungry?”
“You have no idea.”
“You’ll have to choose the place again. Aside from a few visits with my friend Taylor in college, I’m pretty clueless about where to go on this island.”
“Taylor?” Chris asked, a slight frown wrinkling his face.
“Taylor East. The family owns a home here on the island,” Whitney explained. A home that is a disaster, she remembered with a twinge of guilt. A good friend would rush out to East Pointe to check on the construction progress instead of lingering for a sunset dinner downtown.
Chris finished tying the boat and straightened up. He towered over her and the setting sun glowed from behind him.
“Dinner, right. I know about twelve places we could walk to that will make your mouth water,” he said.
It already is, she thought.
Chapter Eight
They found a quiet place with a killer view. A short walk from the tourist restaurants and shops, it overlooked the harbor. Looking west across the harbor, Whitney settled back in her chair. She wanted this night to go on and on. She had no one to hurry home to, no work to do. There was nothing she could do about the problem of the East Pointe Estate tonight. The only thing she could do right now was relax and enjoy dinner. For a girl who always did the sensible thing, it was the only sensible thing to do.
They ordered drinks and an appetizer to share. Neither placed a dinner order yet, but there was plenty of time. Chris didn’t seem to be in a hurry any more than she was.
“So,” Whitney began, “I don’t really know much about you. Except that you are a really good kisser.”
“That about sums it up,” Chris said as he leaned back in his chair and put one hand on her bare thigh.
“I know you must live here on the island somewhere.”
“I do. Small house that was rescued from the wrecking ball when a new, uh, development was being put in a few years back.”
“A rescued house?”
“More of a shack really. Good enough for a single guy, not the kind of thing that’s ever going to make a magazine spread.”
“It’s more than what I have,” Whitney said. “By the time I get home, my lease will be up on my apartment. I can’t decide whether to just renew it or look for something that suits me a little better.”
Chris looked at her like there was something he wanted to ask, but he didn’t say anything. Their waiter placed drinks on cardboard circles on the glass-topped table. No Virgin-esia tonight, Whitney was going a slightly safer drink route.
She took a sip of her strawberry daiquiri and grinned at him over the rim. “I never liked the place anyway,” she explained.
“Too small?”
“Too ex-boyfriend. And the parking is a real pain, even with my little hybrid.”
“I’ve heard that about Boston.”
“Ever been there?” she asked.
“Family vacation when I was about twelve. Freedom trail, the Old North Church. Old Ironsides. All the standard tourist stuff.”
“And was a boy of twelve fascinated by all that?”
“Boy? I thought of myself as a man, of course, when I was twelve,” Chris said, flashing the sexy smile that announced he was definitely a full-grown man right now. “Family vacations weren’t a whole lot of fun when I was a kid. My dad was always in a hurry to get it over with so he could get back to work. Profit margins, you know.”
Chris said it in a light way, but the small crease that appeared between his eyebrows as he spoke made Whitney think that it wasn’t funny at all to him.
“And your parents?”
“Live in Maine,” he said, cutting her off. “I assume your family is in Boston?”
“Sort of,” Whitney said. She met his eyes and considered telling him the truth about her family. Not that there was anyone to tell him about. The Easts were her only family now, and it was for them that she needed to stay focused on her job—getting their family vacation home in perfect shape for the wedding which was getting closer with each passing hour.
Chris set his drink down and looked intently at her face. Whitney was afraid he was going to ask about her family, and she was afraid she felt like trusting him enough to spill the whole story. Now was not the time.
“Boston seems so far away right now.” Whitney sipped her drink as she looked out the wall of windows catching the pink and orange glow from the sunset. “Not that I’m complaining,” she said, her smile also catching the glow from the setting sun.
“So I have you all to myself,” Chris said, leaning closer. He couldn’t get the feel of her lips or her smell out of his mind. This dinner might just drive him over the edge.
“For the next eight and a half days,” she said lightly. “And then,” she leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, “all hell breaks loose.”
“Zombies are attacking the island?” he asked.
“House guests. Lots of them. And then there won’t be a minute’s peace.”
“The wedding,” Chris said flatly.
Whitney rolled her eyes. “I don’t even want to think about it right now. It’s such a mess.”
“Then why go through with it?”
Whitney took another sip of her drink and leveled him with a serious stare. It must have been a look just like that that had Rick thinking she could be dangerous. He backed off a few inches. If she didn’t want to get married, he couldn’t think of a single reason why she should. A woman with charm, sizzle, and legs like that didn’t have to settle for anyone she didn’t want.
“Because I said I would and I’m not letting Taylor down.”
“Taylor is lucky to have you,” he said softly.
Whitney took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, her hand toying with a piece of silverware left on the table after their appetizer plates had been cleared away.
“Honestly, I’m the lucky one,” she said.
Chris knew his face probably gave away his confusion and even frustration. He couldn’t help it. Whitney was technically his opponent, and they were on opposite sides of a mess that he had created, even though his intentions were good. She could take down his company with a snap of her fingers. And yet he hated the fact that she appeared to be sacrificing herself to a wedding she was going through with for some reason other than the right reason.
He knew he shouldn’t care. His real reason for spending time with her was to distract her from her admittedly justified anger at Blue Isle Construction. At least, that was the story he was trying to sell himself. He couldn’t help the fact that the process of distracting her was so…attractive to him. Her green eyes rimmed in black and the way the light glanced off her long brown hair as she raised her head to smile at him should have frightened him more than the angry ultimatum she left on his answering machine. And it did. The logical part of his brain told him he should be very much on his guard.
And yet, she continued to surprise him. She seemed loyal to the East family, but then she was here having dinner with him when she was marrying Taylor East in only about ten days. She kissed him like she meant it on his boat, but she was still planning her walk down the aisle. With someone else. What the hell?
He wanted to kiss her anyway. Kiss her until she forgot whatever her problem was. Even though he already knew. He had to help her to save his business. Wanted to help her. Somehow. Chris had spent the last three years playing Robin Hood and trying to help everyone on St. Thomas with their problems. But it wasn’t enough. He wanted to do the same thing for Whitney.
And he was. He was finishing the project at East Pointe. She just didn’t know it yet. With Rick, he’d mapped out a plan that would take one really inspired super-man to complete. But it was possible. Starting tomorrow and working night and day, it would be completed before her wedding on Christmas Eve.
Saving his company had to be his first priority, and maybe it was just lucky that it would
save her wedding plans, too. Technically speaking, he’d been using the East’s money for months. He owed them. He owed her.
She was looking at him like he was supposed to be saying something. What the heck had they been talking about? He had no idea what to say. When in doubt, he usually looked to food for a solution. Couldn’t help it. It had been working for years.
“Should we order dinner?” he asked.
To his relief, Whitney nodded and picked up the menus. She handed one to him, letting her fingers brush his for a fraction of a second. Chris hid behind his menu, trying not to think about the way her skin felt and how much he wanted to believe this was a real date. Just thinking of how a real date ought to end in his books made his cargo shorts tight and his judgment foggy.
Chris didn’t know what to think right now, but he knew he would almost certainly be able to think better on a full stomach.
****
After dinner, they walked down by the harbor. It was much quieter than last night. In fact, it was pretty deserted for a Monday night. Whitney felt warm and content after an excellent meal, a sweet strawberry daiquiri, and hours of being with Chris. They hardly knew each other, but she felt like she could confide in him. She had to talk to someone about the mess at East Pointe and she sure couldn’t talk to Taylor about it.
“You’re quiet,” he said. She could hardly see his face in the darkness, but the sound of his voice was enough.
“I was thinking about East Pointe.”
“East Pointe?”
“Taylor’s home. Where I’m staying.”
Chris put his arm around her shoulders and drew her closer as they both faced the dark water and the lights dancing off the cruise ships.
“Nice place?”
“It was. But it’s a total wreck now.” She sighed. “Hurricane Destiny.”
“Oh.” He pulled her even closer, beard stubble prickling her cheek.
Whitney knew he would be sympathetic. The trip to deliver supplies for free to his friends in need on St. John convinced her he had a heart as broad as his amazing shoulders. What would it hurt to tell him her problems? She would explode if she kept it all bottled inside.
“The wedding is on Christmas Eve, and I came down early just to check on things. I thought I would have a few details to hammer out, and then I’d enjoy a two-week vacation.”
“So that’s why you packed so much into that giant red suitcase?”
Whitney laughed. “I don’t think I’ll have time to wear it all. I’ll be busy wrangling with the construction company that was supposed to do all the work.”
“I’m sorry,” he said.
He was so sweet. Whitney started to feel sorry for herself for the first time. The pressure of trying to get it all done without saying anything to upset Taylor got to her.
“It’s all right. The work will get done. Some of it anyway. Somehow.” She felt like crying and her voice shook a little. “This wedding is too important.”
Chris tilted his head and kissed her temple. “Maybe I—”
Whitney’s phone rang and she reached into her little purse to look at the caller ID. It was Taylor.
“I have to take this call,” she said.
Chris released his hold on her and Whitney walked a few feet away from him.
“Taylor, let’s hear your fabulous news.”
“It’s a girl!”
“Awesome!” Whitney caught Taylor’s excitement and her smile spanned her entire face. She almost couldn’t imagine their happiness.
“Healthy and perfect,” Taylor continued. “And there’s more news. Are you ready for this? Jackson and I have decided to name her after you.”
Whitney gasped and couldn’t say anything. She sat down on a bench near the harbor railing.
“I’m glad it’s a girl,” Taylor continued, “because we were going to name it after you either way. Your last name is perfect for a boy, but I’m not sure I’m too crazy about naming a son Oliver. Maybe the next one. Well, what do you think about naming your God daughter Whitney?”
“I think it’s incredible,” Whitney whispered. Her eyes filled with tears and she felt sobs choking her. To have a family again…
“Don’t get all weepy, honey. I’ll start blubbering, too. We’ll go to the spa and talk it all over when I get there.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Whitney said.
“Now, I hope you’re out on the town having a wonderful time right now. I’m probably pulling you away from the dance floor with three hot island men lined up and waiting.”
“There are actually five.”
“I figured.” Taylor paused. “Can’t wait to see you next week. Love you, Whitney.”
“I love you, too.”
Whitney closed her phone and dropped it into her purse. She was so stunned by Taylor’s news that she forgot about Chris for a moment. He stood five feet away, politely looking out at the water. She knew he probably overheard everything she said. Not that it mattered.
She took several deep calming breaths. There was entirely too much excitement in her life right now and her emotions were dangerously exposed on the surface. She didn’t trust herself to talk to Chris any more tonight, or to do anything else with him. Decisions right now were probably the kind she would regret in the morning.
It was a totally unusual feeling for Whitney. Vulnerability. And she wanted to run. She found the keys to her Jeep in her purse and swallowed hard.
“Everything okay?” Chris asked.
Whitney nodded. “Yes. Thanks for asking. And thanks for listening tonight.”
He nodded. “That sounds like the night’s over.” He didn’t make a move to close the distance between them.
“It’s getting late, and I have a lot of work to do tomorrow. I’m going to head home,” she said.
He paused and she wondered if he was going to say anything at all. Finally, he asked, “Would you like me to walk you to your car?”
“I can practically see it from here, but thanks.” She hesitated. She thought he might ask her out again or at least ask her to call him. But he didn’t. He stood stock still, both hands on the railing.
“Goodnight, Chris,” she said. She turned and walked toward the city lot downtown as quickly as she could.
With each step, she left behind one piece of the sparkling day she spent with Chris.
Chapter Nine
Chris didn’t think his headache could get a whole lot worse. He finally got to sleep at almost three a.m. this morning, after parting with Whitney downtown. The mixed signals coming off Whitney confounded him. The night went really well until Taylor called and he had to listen to her get all gushy just talking to him. The final “I love you” before she hung up was the last straw. He needed to keep his head in the game and remember that he was just stalling her off to save his company.
Right now, she was costing him sleep. But if he didn’t get his butt in gear, he might lose more than that. If he couldn’t get Whitney off his mind, he could at least get her and her insurance fraud threats off his back. It was already eight o’clock. Time to get started. The shingles and new screen door to fix the last of the damage from Hurricane Destiny on his friend Ella’s flower shop were finally in stock. It was a one-hour job he could check off his list before settling in for an all-out drive at East Pointe.
“Why, Mr. Maxwell,” Rick drawled sardonically as Chris pushed open the door of his office. Rick was already sitting in the chair on the visitor side of Chris’ desk looking through some work orders and invoices. “Glad you could make it in today, boss.”
“You’re lucky I owe you about a dozen favors, Rick.”
“Including, but not limited to, the coffee and aspirin waiting for you on your desk.”
“How did you know…” growled Chris.
“A man living a double life and sleeping with the enemy needs coffee and aspirin.”
“We didn’t sleep together.”
“But from the looks of you, I’d guess you stayed up all n
ight thinking about it.”
“And it’s hard to picture her as the enemy.”
“Fail to get her work done in eight days and you’ll find out.”
“About that,” Chris said, pausing to take three aspirin with a swig of coffee. “I’m officially closing Blue Isle until after New Year’s.”
Rick threw the folder he had been looking at on the desk. “Are you crazy?”
“All part of the plan. If we’re closed, it ties her hands. She’ll have to accept help from a concerned friend because she’s got a deadline and no contractor in sight.”
“You’re a concerned friend now?”
“Concerned for sure. Friend, well, not sure exactly what word I’d use to describe myself right now.”
Rick stared hard at Chris for a minute. “I’m startin’ to think I could use a vacation.”
“Take one. Just don’t go too far. I may need you to stand in for me with Whitney in case something comes up.”
Rick batted his eyelashes and used a falsetto voice to say, “Gosh, Chris, I thought you knew I wasn’t that kind of a girl.”
“Shut up, Rick,” Chris said affably, his blue eyes crinkling with laughter. “You know what I mean. Like you said, I’m playing a dangerous game.”
“No kidding. Messing around with a girl who’s getting married in a little over a week. A rich girl. Marrying into a rich family. Are you looking for a broken heart and a bankrupt business out of this?”
Chris sipped his coffee and leaned back in his chair. Rick was probably right. He usually was. What would happen if he spent a whole lot more time with Whitney? Already he didn’t want her to go back to Boston. And he sure didn’t want to see her get married. Maybe the threat to Blue Isle was the least of his problems. But right now it was a problem he had to solve.
“Bear with me, Rick. Right now I can’t show my face as the owner of Blue Isle Construction.”
“Or what?”
“Good question. I think it means all hell will break loose.”
Rick chuckled. “Guess that means I get to pretend I own a thriving, yet strangely unprofitable, construction company. My daughter will be so proud.”
