Lily’s head shot up to lock her wide-eyed gaze onto Trace’s. “No.” It slipped through her lips in a hushed whisper. “It can’t be.”
“You have no idea how much I wish it wasn’t.” He ended the unanswered call. Made an exaggerated gesture to hit “Redial,” and her phone bawled out the same song.
She took a step back and tossed a frantic look over her shoulder toward the dock. “You’re the pilot?” She said the word pilot like she was delivering the highest of insults.
“And you’re the moaner,” he mumbled before he could stop himself.
Her face went up in flames.
Elliott looked at Spence and pulled at his left earlobe, the Remington brothers’ code for Let’s get out of here. Since they were leaving him to deal with a mess they’d helped create with their stupid dare, Trace was going to make sure the consequences of losing would be well worth his while. When Thing One and Thing Two least expected it.
“Lily, we’ll take care of Mr. and Mrs. Walters,” Elliott said.
Her expression—the one that said she wanted to punch someone in the throat—didn’t waver. “Mr. Walters is waiting on a bench just up the path. He and his wife need VIP treatment and a decent meal if we expect them to return to the Remington.” She held up a finger before they reached the door. “And could you please move them to a room on the other side of the resort so they can’t hear the hammering?”
“We’ll see to it,” Spence said as he and Elliott left.
Trace’s eye twitched. “So this is awkward.”
“Awkward.” The tone of her voice was as flat as Kansas. “I’m the new employee, and you’re my boss. This is so far beyond awkward, I can’t even put a name to it.” The sound of her tapping foot echoed off the hollow wooden floor.
“Look, I really am sorry.”
She ignored his apology. “Out of all the women you could’ve picked from the crowd, it had to be me?”
He shrugged. “You were the only woman moaning.”
Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.
He cringed under the heat of her scalding glare.
“I suppose you’ll want to let me go now, since you didn’t want your dad to hire me in the first place.” Her foot tapping went to machine-gun speed.
“No.” He might’ve acted like a jerk over text, but he wasn’t unethical. “This is my fault. I started it by asking to use your phone. We’re both adults.” Said the guy who had set the whole mess in motion by giving in to his siblings’ taunts.
The tapping came to an abrupt halt. “Good.” She lifted her chin. “From now on, it’s strictly professional between us.”
“Absolutely.” He sliced a hand through the air. “Professional.”
“Then I better get back to work.” She spun on her heel and left him staring at an empty doorway.
So the FBI swarming Trace’s cottage wasn’t the worst thing that could’ve happened. This was by far the most awful result. A woman whose moan had played hell with his imagination would be living and working at the resort. Where he lived and worked.
And Trace couldn’t help but wonder how the sexy girl at the airport—with her strappy shoes and big-city clothes—had transformed into the girl he’d found just a few hours later on a tricycle wearing practical jeans and hiking boots.
Chapter Seven
LILY’S LIFE LESSON #7
“Be careful what you ask for” isn’t just a cliché.
Lily sat in the small office Lawrence had given her and delivered punishing strokes to the keyboard. It had taken three days of around-the-clock work, but the new online booking system she’d set up with automated billing and a downloadable smartphone app would make communication between guests and the Remington much smoother.
She glanced at her closed office door. Privacy was how she’d accomplished so much in such a short span of time. Keeping the door closed ever since the embarrassing revelation of the Voice’s identity a few days ago wasn’t to avoid Trace Remington.
It wasn’t.
They’d agreed to keep things professional. “Pffst,” she mumbled. She planned to keep it so professional that Merriam-Webster’s Dictionary would add her picture under the word instead of a definition. She’d prove her worth as an employee and outperform the Remington family’s expectations. She’d done it before to prove she deserved the job she’d landed through her father. She’d do it again or die trying.
Which she just might if her heart pounded any faster.
Wasn’t it just her luck that the most exciting relationship she’d had in two years was through text? Unfortunately, it also confirmed that swearing off men indefinitely was in her best interest since her judgment in that department was flawed.
She’d exchanged flirtatious texts with her boss!
Her incredibly attractive boss. With his silky and seductive voice. Who managed to have an unfair amount of sex appeal after he’d worked up a sweat repairing the dock.
Her keystrokes quickened right along with her breath.
The upside of working so hard and keeping things so professional was that she’d made considerable progress on the action plan Lawrence had approved for the resort’s facelift. The Remington now showed up on every major travel and review site, and she’d toured every square inch of the property, inside and out. As far as Lily could tell, the inside had been kept in relatively good condition. The challenge would be bringing the exterior grounds up to snuff and creating enough buzz for vacationers to actually book the rooms.
She logged out of the booking program and pulled up the resort’s new social media account to add a gallery of pictures she’d taken of the grounds. By the time she finished posting, it was lunchtime.
She stared at the closed door and drummed her fingers against the desk. A hospitality manager actually had to be hospitable. Which meant she couldn’t stay holed up in her office forever, no matter how much work she checked off her to-do list.
She squared her shoulders and went to the door. Being a professional meant she could get past the awkwardness between Trace and her.
She could.
She tugged the door open and peeked out, first one way, then the next.
Relief feathered through her when she didn’t encounter any of the Remington brothers, especially the oldest. She hurried to the kitchen, walking through the great room where a few guests sat in oversize chairs and read. Or snoozed, since the median age of the clientele seemed to be somewhere between retirement and the pearly gates.
She detoured to greet one of the guests who had their eyes open. “Ma’am, can I help make you more comfortable?”
A blue-haired lady looked up at her through thick glasses. “I’ve got everything I need.” She pursed her lips. “Including antacid tablets after the breakfast we had.” She lifted a hand and gave her wrist a flick. “The pastries were to die for, though.”
Lily put on a smile. “I’ll see what the problem is with the cook.”
She walked through the empty dining hall and pushed through the swinging metal doors into the kitchen.
Charley was bent over a tray of exquisite looking doughnuts. “Hey there.” She sprinkled pink sugar crystals over the tray. “How’s it going?”
“Fantastic.” Lily used her most enthusiastic hospitality manager’s tone. She glanced around the kitchen. No cooking, no food preparation at all besides Charley’s ninja baking skills.
“Getting settled in?” Charley switched to blue sprinkles and dusted another tray.
Yes, except the ducks were getting noisier every day, and she’d been so busy with work she hadn’t had time to find them a bigger habitat. At least Ben had come by every evening to help with them, assuring her he’d cleared his visits with Trace. “Absolutely.” Lily leaned against the counter and drummed it lightly. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.” Charley kept working.
“I’ve gathered you’re in charge of desserts and coffee but not the cooking?”
Charley winced. “You must’ve heard comp
laints about the food.”
Lily gave her a weak smile and nodded. “Afraid so.”
“At the risk of throwing our cook under the bus, I can’t take credit for anything other than coffee and dessert,” Charley said.
Whew. Lily didn’t want to start on the wrong foot with another Remington family member. At the rate she was going, she’d need to grow a dozen more feet. “Care to shed some light on the situation? It’s my job to bring in new business, and food is paramount to guest retention and bookings.”
“Mrs. Ferguson comes in before dawn, cooks, and sets up the buffet.” Charley looked up from her creations. “Then she leaves. Breakfast doesn’t start until seven, so you can imagine how dry the food is by the time the guests arrive.” She went back to decorating. “I clean up the buffet in between when I’m baking.”
“What about lunch and dinner?” Lily asked.
“Not served anymore.” Charley shook her head. “Breakfast is the only meal. It’s included with the room.”
“I assume the guests go into town to eat?”
Charley nodded.
“But why does Lawrence run the kitchen like that?” Lily couldn’t hide her exasperation.
Charley reached for a small pot on the burner to brush warm chocolate onto another tray. “Uncle Lawrence’s wife used to prepare the food. Aunt Camilla was an incredible cook. They ran a tight ship back in the day.”
Charley glanced around like she wanted to make sure no one was listening in. “Mrs. Ferguson took over after Aunt Camilla died.”
“Oh,” Lily whispered. Trace had lost a parent.
Charley shrugged. “Mrs. Ferguson was here all the time, either cooking or looking out for the boys. Uncle Lawrence can’t bring himself to let her go now that she’s gotten too old to manage the kitchen.”
Loyalty. Lily had to give Lawrence credit for that, but a hotel needed to serve edible food. “This is a problem.” A problem that was going to make Lily’s job impossible unless they hired a cook. She stared longingly at the doughnuts. “Those look positively sinful. I’ll trade a kidney for one.”
Charley grabbed a spatula from a drawer to scoop two chocolaty masterpieces onto a plate. “This batch goes to a friend of mine in town who has a cute little food cart and mobile catering business. I provide her with doughnuts and pastries, which attracts more customers. She gives me the profits from the bakery items. I can spare a few for you, though.” She slid the plate to Lily, then poured a mug of coffee. “Just got this new beauty.” Charley returned the pot to the burner and ran a hand lovingly down the side of the industrial coffee machine. “I had to wring the money out of Elliott and his new budget, but this baby is mine now.” She pretended to give it a hug. “It was love at first sight.”
Lily chuckled and fixed her coffee before taking a long sip. The flavor exploded in her mouth. “My taste buds have died and gone to heaven.”
Charley let out a knowing chuckle. “I come from a long line of gourmet coffee roasters in Seattle. I have the beans shipped in weekly.”
Lily let the mug hover at her lips, thinking. The scent was every bit as enjoyable as the flavor, and it filled her with a sense of home and hearth. Exactly the type of feeling the guests should have when staying at the resort. That theme, that branding should be carried through to every aspect of the resort. “Your uncle is very lucky to have you. Seems like your desserts and coffee are the only sustenance the guests have to look forward to at the resort.”
“Thanks, but I’m the lucky one.” Charley wiped her hands and stacked dishes into the sink. “I needed to get away from Seattle. There were toxic people in my life.”
Lily offered a sympathetic smile because she was there for the same reason.
“I better get back to work.” Lily swiped her plate off the counter. “Nose to the grindstone and all that. Thanks.” She gave her plate a boost. “I’m starving and didn’t want to stop working long enough to go back to my place and make lunch.”
She hurried back to her office as fast as she could manage without spilling her coffee. With a foot, she tried to kick the door closed. The door swung as she took a seat behind her desk, but it didn’t close completely. According to the time on her computer screen, she had ten minutes to eat before meeting Lawrence to go over the new booking program.
She had to choose between the door and the doughnut.
Privacy could piss off for a minute or two.
She took a big bite of chocolaty doughnut. The chair creaked as she leaned back and let the rich, sweet flavor saturate her palate. She closed her eyes. “Ooooh God.” Her moan of sheer pleasure came out louder than it should’ve. Just as a gentle knock sounded at her door.
“Uh.” The Voice cleared his throat.
She stilled but kept her eyes closed. She did not want to open them and deal with the problem she knew was standing there. And Trace Remington was definitely a problem.
“Lily?”
His deep, velvety voice slid through her like the warm chocolaty flavor of the doughnut. And the owner of that voice had just heard her moan. Again.
Lily chewed and swallowed, the delicious dessert turning to chalk in her mouth. She forced her eyes open.
One side of Trace’s mouth lifted into a half smile just smartass enough to set her on edge. “Am I interrupting?”
She didn’t appreciate the glint in his eyes, so she returned his smartassery. “Yes. I’m on a hot date with one of Charley’s doughnuts.”
His eyes dilated.
Professional. Keep it professional. Lily leveled an all-work-no-play stare at him. “What can I do for you, Mr. Remington?”
His subtle smile faded at her formality. “Got a minute?” He leaned farther into her office, the front of one shoulder propped against the doorframe.
“One or two.” She sat straighter in her chair, wishing she’d not only shut her door all the way but locked it too. She was not going to eat moan-worthy sweets in front of Trace.
He took the only chair in front of her desk. “Look. You don’t have to avoid me.”
She sputtered, “I’m not avoiding you.” She so was. “I’m working.”
“Okay.” He drew out the word. “Have you found a home for the ducks?”
“I haven’t looked because I’ve been working.” She turned to her computer and searched for bird refuges in the area. “The nearest place is a hundred and seventy miles down the coast.”
“I’ll fly them there myself tomorrow.”
His parenting skills were none of Lily’s business, but what kind of person didn’t want their kid to have a pet? “Ben has come over to my place after school to take care of them the past few days. He insisted you were okay with it.”
Trace’s chafed look said he was anything but okay with it.
“He’s very good with them. He’s even been doing research at school on how to care for them. He brought me some printouts,” Lily said. “He’s a good kid. You should be proud of the job you’ve done.”
His hardened expression softened a little. “Thanks, but even so, the ducks need to go. The longer they stay, the more crushed he’ll be when they get big enough to fly away.”
Lily wondered if Trace was really talking about himself and his son. Their bond was obvious, and she admired it. Envied it, even. But protecting Ben from the heartbreak of losing a pet was also depriving him of the joy a pet brought to a kid’s life. And she had news for Trace. Ben was already crazy in love with the birds and was going to be crushed no matter what.
Still, it wasn’t her business, so she nodded in agreement.
“Look, when I apologized the other day, I meant it. I never intended to send that inappropriate text. I shouldn’t have typed it to begin with. I’m not usually a jerk.”
“So that’s a new development since I’ve been in town?” She threaded her fingers.
He gave his temple an absent scratch as if to say You’ve got me there. “Really, I’m an okay guy. Just ask my brothers.” He faltered. “On second thought, do
n’t ask them. I’d be screwed if you did.” He let a lazy smile form on his lips.
It was adorable.
Lily’s gaze was drawn to that beautiful smiling mouth. A mouth that, according to the text message in question, could do wicked things to her while she wore a thong.
Her pulse revved. Quite unprofessionally.
It took an incredible amount of effort, but Lily didn’t let her no-nonsense expression waver. She tapped her two index fingers together and waited for him to leave.
Trace sobered. “Can I make it up to you somehow?”
Besides fulfilling his promise to move her imaginary thong to one side so he could put that delicious-looking mouth to work making her moan again?
No thank you. She’d damn well stick to doughnuts for that.
“Yes.” She lifted her chin. “The other night at my place, you were worried about change. Give me the benefit of the doubt, and let me do my job. I’m actually good at it. The Remington will be a better place.”
Something flashed in his eyes. Maybe it was worry. Maybe it was skepticism. Maybe it was attraction.
Lily fought off a shiver and picked a piece of imaginary lint from the sleeve of her chambray shirt. “And let Ben and me keep the ducks.”
“That’s not fair,” Trace shot back. “And I don’t appreciate interference when it comes to my son.”
“Look, Mr. Remington—”
His eyes dimmed.
She ignored it. “I don’t mean to interfere, and I really did think he had your permission to come to my place. It’s just that he’s been doing a great job helping take care of them when I’m busy, and he’s already attached,” Lily said. “So whatever hurt you’re trying to spare him . . .” She sighed. “It’s probably too late.”
Trace tapped a finger against the space between his nose and mouth and kept his eyes planted firmly on her. If there’d been a clock on the wall, Lily was sure she could’ve heard it ticking. Clearly, he was annoyed. But the fact that he was even considering her request showed it might have some merit.
Finally, he drew in a breath. “Fine. I’ll try to give you the benefit of the doubt when it comes to the resort. You can keep the ducks, but I’ll need you to back me up when I have to prepare my son to accept that they won’t be around forever. Under two conditions—we forget all about the texting.”
Dare Me Once Page 8
