Or worse yet, after their night spent away, was Maureen attempting to matchmake?
“I’m just empowering you to be who you want to be.” Maureen removed Portia’s ponytail, letting her heavy hair fall. Grabbing a brush, she worked through her tangled air-dried locks. “Oh Lord, did I really just say that? Empowering? I sound like some kind of self-help book—you’re the last woman who needs help. I just want to pamper you since you go out of your way to take care of others. And in case you’re worried, the professional hairstylist will be here soon.”
“It’s kind of you to arrange all of this, and I don’t mean to sound like an ingrate.” She looked at her short, neat nails and wondered what they would look like with a bolder color, not long French tips or fake nails, but just something...fun. “I shouldn’t have said what I did about my mother. I don’t want to be someone who blames everyone else for my hang-ups.”
Maureen set down the brush and took a chair beside her. “You’re the last person I would assume that about. You are levelheaded and confident.”
Portia didn’t feel that way. She felt like she’d clawed her way through life to find confidence and a future for herself and her brother. To find the independence she craved. She didn’t want this roaring frustration inside her. She wanted to be happy about this baby, her child. Instead, she was just...scared.
What did she know about being a mother? She hadn’t had good examples. Maybe this spa day, and the time with Easton, would help her get her head on straight before her whole world changed.
The doctor’s appointment was less than a week away. A relief.
And the ticking clock counting down her time to finish exploring this whole empowerment exercise. Soon she would take on the whole Lourdes family full force—and one incredibly charming veterinarian—and tell them she was carrying the next little addition.
Seven
Three hours later, Easton stood in the doorway leading to the women’s locker room and braced his hands on either side to keep his footing. He’d heard from his brother that the women were getting dinner, massages and makeovers. And he’d expected some glammed up, artificial look. He’d prepared himself to say the right things on his way to kissing the artifice away. Had anticipated the moment with a raw sensuality that burned deep inside him.
However, he hadn’t expected Portia’s angled features to make her look downright ethereal. And the difference rocked him. He’d always found her attractive—her kindness, her stunning smile, her deep, dark eyes.
But with her hair falling around her ears...
How she sat relaxed and causal...
She knocked the air from his lungs. Literally.
Her eyes widened as she noticed his stare, a faint blush rising, swirling in her cheeks. The shadowed light catching on her slender face. Damn.
“You look stunning,” Easton said, his voice hoarse as he worked to drag air into his lungs again. “And I don’t just mean the hair or the makeup. There’s a glow to you that’s incredible.”
Maureen tipped her head to the side. “A glow?”
Portia shot to her feet, dismissive of his compliment. “Thank you. All the credit goes to the makeup artist and hairstylist. I just sat still and let them work.”
She walked to the drink station and fixed herself a glass of sparkling water and then dropped in a lime slice from a bowl.
Don the security guard and his wife, Jessie, floated into the room. Active fiftysomethings, they were a powerhouse volunteer couple. They donated a substantial amount of time and money to the refuge. Somehow, they’d also become surrogate grandparents to Rose, poking in and out of the house. Down-to-earth people no one would suspect actually had made billions through savvy investments in the dot-com world, getting out right before it crashed. They were a regular fixture around here, often staying late. It was never a surprise to see them wander in, and the Lourdes family could never pay them back for all they’d done for the refuge.
The dim light of the room made Jessie’s spotted pullover appear like a molten mix of tan and black, making her seem like a jungle cat. Elbows hooked together, they strode over to Easton and Portia who had shrugged off her robe to reveal a formfitting mint dress. All of her curves accented, the mint color brought her pale skin to life. Teasing him, tempting him.
She brushed her fingers against his. A small gesture, sure. But he found himself itching for more. A lot more.
Jessie cooed, patting Don’s stomach. “Did y’all know that we are celebrating thirty-three years of marriage next week?”
“That is amazing.” Portia nodded, a smile on her lightly glossed lips.
Easton nodded absently as well, eyes fixed on her. Wanting her.
“Are you doing anything special?” Easton said after a moment, shifting his weight slightly so his body would caress Portia’s. She leaned into him, like a palm tree swaying in a springtime breeze. Awareness simmered between them, a slow burn.
Don combed his fingers through his snow-gray hair. “When are you planning to ask her out on an official date?”
Portia choked on her sip of sparkling water.
Easton set his drink aside slowly and lifted an eyebrow. “When did you start up a matchmaking service?”
Don shrugged, proceeding in his typical straightforward manner. He’d never been one to mask his thoughts or feelings. “Sorry to have put the two of you on the spot there, but it’s obvious to all of us around here that the two of you are an item. So I was just wondering when you’re going to start dating. Or if you already are, let the rest of us in on it so we can double date.”
“Double date?” Portia squeaked, putting aside her own drink now.
Jessie reached her hand out to gently squeeze Portia’s arm. She gave a quick wink. “Sure. Do you think married couples don’t date anymore? If that’s your idea of marriage, no wonder you’ve stayed single for so long.”
Easton watched as color drained from Portia’s face. He decided to steer the conversation to a different topic—anything to make Portia feel more comfortable and not derail his plan to win her back into his bed. “I know married couples have romance. I’ve seen my brother married twice, happily both times.”
Jessie lowered her voice, holding a glass of sparkling wine in a relaxed grasp. “Then you two are dating and keeping it quiet?”
She asked so casually, as if she were inquiring about the weather and not asking for a piece of private, intimate information.
Easton folded his arms over his chest, frustrated that his friends could be eroding the progress he’d made toward getting Portia back into his bed. “No offense, Don, but why is this any of your business?”
“Wow, you’re in a bad mood. Must be the barometric pressure drop,” Don teased, still not getting the message. Easton saw Portia’s spine grow rigid, the glow of earlier replaced by seething discomfort.
Jessie gave an exaggerated wink. “Or a lack of romance in your life.”
Portia waved a hand. “Hello, I’m here and a part of this conversation.”
Jessie turned to Portia, blinking. In faux seriousness, she asked, “So is he properly romancing you?”
Easton held up a hand. “Stop. Yes, I’m interested, very interested, in Portia. And I want to win her over, but that’s for her to say and you’re not helping matters.”
All eyes turned to Portia.
“What?” She held up her hands defensively. “Things are complicated.”
Jessie nodded. “He’s your boss.”
“True.” Portia winced. “Thanks for reminding me.”
Easton had kept his frustration under control when it was all good-natured ribbing, but now, as he watched Portia grow increasingly uncomfortable, he started to steam. He wanted to protect her from any upset, even something as innocent as this sort of thing.
Jessie shot a warnin
g look at Easton before leaning toward Portia. “Has he made you uncomfortable with his advances? Because that wouldn’t be right.”
Easton bristled. Established, wealthy volunteers or not, there were lines and they were skirting close to crossing them.
Portia touched his arm lightly. “Easton hasn’t done anything wrong. I made the first move on him, okay? So there. Yes, we have feelings for each other. Yes, we’re attracted to each other. And yes, it was probably silly of us to think our private lives could be private in such an intimate work environment, but we really would appreciate some space to figure this out. Thank you.”
She adjusted her weight and fixed them both with a commanding stare before striding out of the room. Her chin up.
He had never seen her be so assertive before. She’d become a force—like the storms that had brought them together—firm, unflinching and unapologetic.
Dazzling.
And he was stunned as hell that he wanted more than just to have her back in his bed again.
* * *
Drained, Portia sagged against the door after the men left, watching the stylist pack her gear, listening to the sounds of zippers and bottles of products clinking together before more footsteps reverberated along with the closing of a door. With the portable salon packed in bags, the room echoed.
She hadn’t been in the mood for such prying questions from anyone, even friends like Don and Jessie. And the questions seemed to carry more weight, hit her more deeply, because of her pregnancy.
Her still secret pregnancy, made all the more complicated by that look in Easton’s eyes when he’d seen her. She could have sworn she saw more than just passion, and that excited her and scared her all at once because heaven help them, this could not be a regular dating relationship. They didn’t have the luxury.
Pressing a hand to her forehead and closing her eyes, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so alone. Then the warm press of another person sidled beside her, sweeping an arm around her shoulder. Portia looked over, the smell of peonies and powder lingering.
Jessie. A woman happily married for decades. A grandmother. Content with where she was in her life.
A painful sight for Portia right now.
The older woman patted Portia’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, dear, we didn’t mean to upset you. My man, he can be pushy, but he didn’t mean any harm. We thought it was so obvious.”
Portia found it easy to forgive the woman for her overreaching. Jessie showed her tender heart daily in how she sang to wounded animals as they underwent treatment. Which made her think of Easton’s tender care of animals that could seriously injure him in their wounded, frantic state. He was such an intriguing, unexpected sort of person.
She looked down at her fingers twisted together in her lap. “Our feelings are that apparent?”
Maureen’s brogue answered as she called from behind a changing screen, “Yes, they are. Especially this past week.” She passed Portia a tissue. “I’ve never seen you cry before.”
Portia sagged onto an oaken locker room bench. “I do have emotions.”
Sitting beside her, Jessie stroked a lock of hair over Portia’s shoulder. “Of course you do. You just usually keep them to yourself. But those feelings are tougher to keep inside when hormones are out of control.”
Jessie gave her a pointed look that all but had Portia squirming in her chair. Her secret pregnancy wouldn’t be a secret much longer if people were already guessing. Luckily, Maureen seemed oblivious. Still, the time clock was ticking down. Portia had to tell Easton. “I’m doing better now, but thank you for caring.
“Of course, dear, we’re all a big family here. And I’ll make sure Don lightens up on the teasing.” Jessie clucked her tongue like a protective mother hen.
“Thank you. That would be helpful.” Especially until Portia figured things out for her future as a mother.
With a satisfied nod, Jessie stood up. She fluffed her hair with her fingers, and started to walk away. She paused for a moment, spinning on her kitten heels to face Portia. “You really are lovely, and glowing. Take care of yourself, dear. Maureen, would you mind taking me to see my favorite little Key deer baby that has a broken leg?”
Maureen pranced out from behind the screen, her curly red hair falling midchest, contrasting with her white shift dress. Her gold accessories catching the light, making her look like some Celtic princess from centuries past.
“Of course. I have about an hour before I’m supposed to meet Xander. I’ll take you to the baby deer.”
She linked her arm with Jessie’s and tossed Portia a wave and a wink.
Glowy.
Such an intentional and loaded word.
Did they know? Or at the very least suspect?
Before panic could fully rise in her chest, Portia’s cell phone rang, sending her thoughts skittering. Looking down at the screen, she read Marshall.
Scrambling to answer, she clicked the green button, shoving the phone to her ear.
“Hey, sis. I haven’t heard from you in a while—”
“Since last night.”
“I know,” he teased gently. “I was being sarcastic. You sounded, um, off last night. I wanted to follow up. You’re not the only one who worries.”
The weight of responsibility felt heavier than ever on her shoulders. Every decision she made could have such far-reaching repercussions. “Work has been hectic. How are you?”
“I’m good. Classes are good, grades are solid and I have good news for you.”
“I could use good news.” She couldn’t keep a wobble of concern out of her voice. She was so confused, and for a woman used to controlling every inch of her life, that was a difficult and alien way to feel.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
Oh, nothing. Just my life being torn apart.
She wanted to say something like that—wanted to share her life-altering news with her brother. Instead, she looked at her nails, choosing to remain the strong, balanced force she always thought Marshall needed. “Yes, of course. Tell me your news?”
“I got a gig as a residence hall counselor after summer session this fall, which means free dorm and a break on tuition. There’s been a last-minute opening and they asked me.”
“That’s fantastic.” A shred of positive news. There’d be less to siphon away from her pay. The debt for his college education was worth it though. She needed to see him settled before she could make any plans for her future, however much she wanted to... She stopped thoughts of Easton short. For now. And she focused on her brother’s words instead.
“I’m trying my best not to be a burden to you. I appreciate all you’ve done for me.”
“It’s my joy. I’m proud of you.” She’d never told him of her own dreams to go to college. She was so afraid if he didn’t complete his education now he never would. She needed to know he was secure in his future.
But she also had a child to consider. Life was so very complicated.
And she wanted to be with Easton again so damn much.
* * *
The next day, when Easton had asked her to have dinner by the pool after work, she hadn’t even bothered making an excuse to decline. Clearly, hiding their mutual interest from everyone and each other was futile. In a way, that observation caused a degree of relief for Portia. There would be no sneaking around now. Fewer secrets. This would be their first date since their night in the inn. The night they’d almost slept together.
A night she couldn’t get out of her mind.
After his date request, she’d rushed to her cabana to shower and change. As she slipped into a simple backless green dress, she felt a buzz hum through her body.
Apprehension coursed through her spine, filling her with a strange mixture of curiosity and desire. She fluffed her hair, opting
to let it stay down like the stylist had done the day before.
Maybe there was something to all that empowerment talk Maureen had given Portia. A new hairstyle for a new chapter in her life. The small change felt like she’d made a promise to herself to be brave for her own future and not just for her brother.
Regardless of the attraction between her and Easton, Portia needed to get to know him better. The father of her unborn child. No. Wait. That was wrong.
Their unborn child.
That shared child meant they would forever be in each other’s lives, even if he was a reluctant parent. She couldn’t see him turning his back on his child altogether. And if he did? Then he wasn’t a man worthy of either of them.
She left her little home and walked the path over to the pool by the main house. Easton had said he planned to walk her over, but coming to him gave her more of a sense of power.
Now she was glad she had done so as she had a few minutes to take in the dinner arrangements unobserved. Easton had hired a Spanish guitarist and a pianist to play sultry songs. The beautiful riffs filled the night air, making her forget for a moment that she was at his house and not in some fancy restaurant.
Glancing around the pool deck, she certainly felt like they had been transported somewhere magical. High romance. No expense spared. Globe lights were strung overhead like personal stars. The whole patio was decorated in hibiscus flowers and soft green ferns—a tropical getaway in the middle of daily life.
The house was silent and unlit. Xander, Maureen and baby Rose had left for an evening getaway.
Easton stepped through the double French doors with a bouquet of peonies in his hand and stopped short once he saw her, then he picked up his pace again.
“Portia,” he called out, “I wanted to escort you over.”
She met him at the stairs. “I know, but I was ready early, and I do know where you live.”
“That you do.” He extended his hand clasping the pink blossoms. “These are for you.”
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