Worth every penny.
She reached over and slapped the book. “Read it. Imagine what you want and go for it.”
What he wanted didn’t involve vacation property. Unless Nicki was inside it, naked and aggressive again. “How long are you staying?” he asked.
“At least a week, maybe longer. Can you believe it? I haven’t had a real vacation in years,” she said. “And by the way, you really should act happier about seeing me.”
“Sorry,” he said. “Long day.” He took the couch next to her. Diane had been one of the first friends he’d made after he’d left his fraternity—the morning after he’d almost slept with “Mickey”—and as overwhelming as she could be, he’d always liked her. Their brief fling had been comically awkward, two complete sex acts in as many weeks, but they’d recovered. Now she treated him like a brother, which was a familiar relationship for him, and over the years he’d appreciated her loyalty. His family’s money didn’t impress her, since she was driven to amass her own, and he never got the feeling she wanted anything from him but himself.
“I hope you had a decent birthday.” She smiled at him over the rim of her mug. “You were nice to me on mine. I wanted to return the favor.”
He frowned. “I didn’t do anything.”
“You did.” She sipped.
“What?”
“You got me chocolate.”
“I do that every year,” he said.
“Well, I like it.”
“I do the same for Rachel.” He flinched. “Shoot, I forgot this year. I better overnight her something from Belgium.” He got out his phone and pulled up his favorite online chocolate supplier in the browser. Giving chocolate to women was like giving hundred dollar bills to criminals. Always the right gesture.
There’s an idea.
Diane caught him staring at the wall of Nicki’s bedroom as he wondered if she liked dark or milk. And would nuts be too provocative?
“Well, I am wiped out,” she said, getting to her feet. “I’d hoped to get here in time to take you to dinner, but let’s make it brunch, all right? There’s a place in Lahaina that got written up in the Times.”
He didn’t register what Diane had said until she was pulling open the front door. “I’ll come by at ten,” she said. “You should probably wear a suit jacket. No tie, it’s the islands, but it never hurts to look good. And invite your roommate. I’m curious to talk to her.”
It was an old joke that his mother and Diane had a few personality traits in common. He didn’t usually put up a fight, but he could when he needed to. Jumping up to catch her at the front door, he said, “No, just us.” He could save Nicki that discomfort, at least. “And it’ll have to be later, more like one. I have plans in the morning.”
“Really?”
“Yep.”
“All right, see you then.” She started to walk away, then turned suddenly and kissed him on the cheek. “Happy Birthday, Ansel. Your life is just beginning.”
* * *
Nicki moved away from her bedroom door, where she’d been listening to Ansel’s conversation with his BFF on the other side.
Not her proudest moment, eavesdropping like that, but at least she’d managed to overcome the temptation until just a few minutes before Diane had left.
Just us?
She ran a hand through her tangled hair.
Your life is just beginning?
It had been a very long, exhausting day. She’d overcome her deepest fears to save a boy from drowning and then made wild love in a luxurious tropical cabana.
Just thinking about it made her skin tingle.
In fact, if she hadn’t freaked out, they’d still be there right now. Diane would be knocking fruitlessly on the condo door, waiting, waiting, and waiting some more.
An unfamiliar feeling came over Nicki. She’d had what—whom—another woman wanted.
But did she really have him? Maybe she should find him right now and climb in bed with him to stake her claim.
Just us, he’d told Diane. He’d made a date with her.
No, Nicki thought, getting out her pajamas. She’d spend the night alone. If he hopped into bed with Diane tonight, he wasn’t a claim worth staking.
Chapter 21
AROUND MIDNIGHT, ANSEL GAVE UP trying to sleep. He pulled on shorts and went down to the lobby before he did something stupid. Nicki’s room was quiet. She’d closed the door. He got the message.
Downstairs, he found a padded wicker armchair under a palm behind the fountain and called Brand.
His friend picked up on the fifth ring. “Ansel?” he croaked.
“Oh, did I wake you?”
“I’m still in Chicago. Do you realize what time it is here?” Brand let out a noisy sigh. “God, I’d just fallen asleep, too.”
Justice was sweet. Ansel put his feet up on an ottoman. “I need some advice.”
“Don’t do it.”
“Don’t do what?” Ansel asked.
“Whatever it is.”
“What if I was talking about the property you want to buy, and I was thinking maybe you were right?”
“Actually, I’d just decided to cave on that,” Brand said.
“Really?”
“I asked around. Apparently, it’s not just the tourists who like to look at the ocean. Stupid to buy a property on the beach that faces the wrong way.”
Shoot. The afternoon with Nicki had reminded him how nice it was to have buckets of surplus cash lying around. If he put up his share for the oceanfront unit, he’d have just enough savings to live on for the rest of the year. “On the other hand,” Ansel said, “it’s a lot more money up front. Money we don’t necessarily have.”
Brand cursed under his breath. Ansel could hear a bed creaking, footsteps, a door banging, then the sound of pee striking a toilet bowl. “Couldn’t this wait until the morning?”
“Now you know how I feel.”
The line went dead.
If his ruthless friend hadn’t woken him up so many times, he might’ve let him sleep. But that was so very much not the case. He pressed Brand’s number again.
“There’s something else,” Ansel said when he answered.
“I’m turning off my phone,” Brand said. “You only call me this late when you’re about to get laid.”
“Hey.” Ansel looked around to make sure he was alone. “If that were true, I would’ve called you yesterday.”
Brand groaned. “And now you want to gloat.”
“I don’t know what I want.”
“All right. What’s her name?”
“That’s a funny story right there,” Ansel said.
“Do you realize what time it is here?”
“Buy me a watch. For my birthday.”
“Sounds like you need a calendar.” Brand’s voice was muffled, perhaps by a pillow.
“Can’t you pretend to listen to me for a second?”
“Dude, I’m tired. I had dinner with a guy who spent two hours trying to sell me a thousand stainless steel commercial kitchen sinks. For you. I assured him your friend Jordan was unlikely to be expanding at that level for quite some time, but he had me pinned in a corner and refused to believe it."
“Maybe he found you attractive. You’ve got that scar on your chin. Very sexy.”
“Shut up.”
“Seriously, I need your help,” Ansel said.
“I’ve been helping you all day.”
Time to pull out the ace. “Diane is here.” There. Brand wouldn’t hang up on him now. He hated Diane the way an ex-smoker hated cigarettes. One night had ruined him for life, Brand liked to say.
“‘Here,’ where?”
“Here in Maui,” Ansel replied. “At the resort.”
“Why?”
“She’s visiting me.”
“Just happened to be in the neighborhood?”
“She wanted to surprise me. In honor of my birthday. Unlike some people, I might add.”
“I sent you something.”
<
br /> “Your assistant sent an email. Very thoughtful. No wonder the restaurant men love you so much. All that sensitivity so close to the surface is hard to resist.”
“At least it was on time,” Brand said. “How long is she staying?”
“I’m not sure. A while, I think.”
“What about her job?”
“I didn’t ask.”
“Don’t you think it’s strange she would show up on a weekday?” Brand sounded fully awake now. “When’s the last time she took a vacation?”
“It’s been a while.”
“Five years,” Brand said.
“So, she was overdue.”
“Yeah,” Brand said. Then his voice dropped. “Is she the woman you slept with?”
Ansel recoiled. “Of course not!”
There was a long pause. Brand’s tone returned to normal. “Then who’s the lucky lady?”
“A friend of Rachel’s. I’ve been sharing the condo with her.”
“Since when?”
“Didn’t I tell you about that? Rachel gave her the family condo for the summer. I’m not really supposed to be here. So, we had to share.”
“And then you had sex with her.”
“It’s more complicated than that.”
“You strain my imagination,” Brand said.
“Turns out… we knew each other in college.” He cleared his throat. “Once.”
“Christ on a cracker.”
“We didn’t actually sleep together, but when you’re eighteen… I’ve never forgotten her.”
“Except it sounds like you kind of did,” Brand said. “What’s her name?”
“Mickey. I mean, Nicki.”
“True love, is it?”
“Shut up.”
“My advice? Keep your dick in your pants for once. Especially around Diane.”
Ansel laughed softly. “You poor loser. Still have a thing for her, don’t you?”
“Tell Jenny I’m on board with the new property,” he said. “I’ll call the mortgage broker about adjusting the loan.” Then the line went dead.
* * *
Nicki got out a loaf of white bread, two eggs, a carton of milk, sugar, and looked around the cupboard for vanilla, without which the French toast would taste terrible, but all she could find was a bottle of peppermint extract.
Even with a full night’s sleep, she was a below-average cook; with two hours spread over eight, she dropped to the bottom fifth percentile of the cooking population.
There were only three items she had mastered, one for each mealtime: French toast for breakfast, grilled cheese for lunch, and pizza for dinner. Obviously, there was some flexibility there with lunch and dinner, but she kept it simple to maximize success. She was like that one guy you knew who could play one simplified Scott Joplin song on the piano but nothing else.
“There’s no vanilla,” she muttered. And there wasn’t enough bread for Diane if she showed up.
Of course she would show up. The woman would probably arrive in lingerie and heels.
Just friends.
Oh, men. So clueless. So, so clueless.
How long had Diane been in love with him? How many times had she shown up like this when Ansel was with another woman?
Nicki almost felt guilty. She knew what it felt like to love a friend, and Ansel obviously had no idea about Diane’s feelings, or he’d show a little sensitivity. He’d probably already told her about their hookup yesterday, and now Diane was going into red alert mode. She was going to style that perfect bob of hers until it shone like a Roman battle helmet.
Nicki put on her running shoes, shoved a pair of twenties in her pocket, and ran out to buy some pastries from the shop downstairs. It wasn’t until she was handing over the cash and waiting for her pennies in change before she realized she’d taken the elevator.
Well, that was something. To celebrate, she ate a chunk of banana bread on the way back up—silently daring the elevator to break as she chewed—and was pulling out the rest of the piece when the door opened.
“Good morning!” Diane said.
She was jogging in place as she waited for the elevator. She wasn’t wearing lingerie, but the jogging bra and stretchy shorts were skimpier than Nicki’s bikini.
“Hi,” Nicki said, mouth full, stepping off the elevator with the pastry box in her arms. “It’s a beautiful day for a run.” No reason she couldn’t be friendly.
“I hate it, actually, but it must be done.” Diane reached inside and hit a button that froze the elevator in place. “Oh, I can smell that from here. Banana bread?”
Nicki nodded, waiting for Diane to moan about her weight, her inability to eat. She was the kind of woman whose abs had abs. Or maybe those bumps were her small intestines. Not much covering the organs down there.
“Save me a piece?” Diane asked.
“Really? Sure.”
“Hide it from Ansel. He’ll eat mine, even if you tell him it’s for me. Cover it with a napkin and put it somewhere he won’t look.”
Nicki couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay. I promise.”
“I could get my own, of course, but I don’t have my wallet on me, and I’m lazy.” Diane jogged into the elevator and hit the button. “Thanks!”
The doors closed between them; Nicki returned to the condo, wondering if she’d be able to stop herself from liking Diane. It would be easier not to. No matter what happened with Ansel.
Pastry box in her arms, she unlocked the door and pushed it in with her knee.
“Diane?” Ansel asked.
She froze. “No, it’s me.”
He came around the corner, hair mussed, bottled water in his hand, shirtless. When he saw the box, he let out a breath. “Hi.”
“Hi.” He looked like something that should be inside a pastry box. His chest hair was like chocolate and vanilla sprinkles. “I was getting breakfast,” she said.
“I thought you’d left.”
She went into the kitchen and put the box on the counter. Maybe she’d had only a few hours of sleep, but she suddenly felt wide awake. “Left in what way?”
“In a scary way.”
She felt a pang of unease. “Without a suitcase? Or all of my clothes?” Was he suggesting she had a reason to take off?
“I figured you weren’t naked or anything,” he said, “just that you’d gone out and didn’t plan on coming back anytime soon.”
Maybe she’d been too relaxed about his gal pal showing up. “I saw Diane at the elevator.” She scanned his face for guilt or deceit but found neither.
He simply nodded and put the water down. “She tried to get me to run with her. I thought she’d come back for another shot.” Then he met her eyes, holding them with a suggestive smile. “You know I’m not much of a runner.”
She felt desire blast through her body like a backdraft in a burning skyscraper. “You’re okay,” she said in a low voice.
“Okay?” He approached, never dropping her gaze. His bare toes bumped hers inside their flip-flops. He tilted his head back and smiled that lopsided grin at her.
“Yeah. You’re okay,” she said.
He slid a hand behind her neck. “How about you?” he asked softly. “Are you okay?”
“I’m great.” As her heart began pounding, his fingers tangled in her hair. “Fantastic,” she added in a whisper.
His other hand settled at her waist, lightly stroking the band of bare skin under her shirt. “I agree.” Then he leaned closer and dragged his lips across her cheek. His breath was hot on her mouth, where he lingered. “Are you still feeling like you’d like to be alone?”
Her hands trembled so violently, she wouldn’t have been able to write her name. “The way an antelope would like to be alone,” she admitted, closing her eyes. She didn’t know why it was so different from yesterday, why she would be afraid now and not then.
“But antelopes are herding animals,” he said, moving his mouth to her throat. He licked the hollow where her pulse skittered at the
surface.
“Says the cheetah.” But he smelled like a man, like a fantasy. She tunneled her hands through his hair and let out a ragged sigh.
“Meow.” He opened his mouth and bit the side of her neck.
She moaned. Oh, God. Desire melted the fear, erasing the awkward hours between when he’d pulled away from her, sleepy and satisfied—and now.
She rubbed her body against his, searching for his mouth with hers, and in a hot second he was pushing her up against the back of the front door, hands everywhere, no more joking.
“Nicki,” he gasped against her mouth. He lifted her shirt above her bra, rough and fast, as he drove his tongue into her mouth. “You’re… killing me.”
She could do this; she could have fun without thinking herself into a panic attack. A bout of hyperventilation was proof she was doing the right thing. Just like swimming, bridges, flying, and elevators, sex was an everyday activity she needed to master. Like therapy. Not just once. Constant, consistent exposure was key.
Every day, every hour, every minute, every second…
He fell to his knees, hooked his fingers over the waistband of her shorts, and yanked them down to her ankles. The door was firm and smooth under her spine, holding her up when her own legs would’ve failed her. He didn’t start where he’d gone yesterday, which had been perfectly perfect, but at her calves. As he lightly kissed her navel, his fingertips stroked the backs of her knees, tickling their way upward, spiraling over the flesh of her thighs. Then his hands were under the thin fabric, capturing her bottom, pulling her to his face.
He pleasured her without ever taking off her underwear. Through the nylon, rubbing and licking, which she would’ve sworn was impossible, but his mouth and fingers were everywhere, using the barrier to tease and push her higher, up, over.
After she came, she slid down to the floor as if she’d been shot. Blasted in the heart, the head, she sat in a daze.
It was at that moment that Diane rang the bell, knocking at the same time. “Okay, guys, I admit it,” she called out. “I’m lazy. I want my banana bread now.”
Nicki could feel the door vibrate under Diane’s knuckles. Nicki’s gaze met Ansel’s, checking again for any doubt in his face but finding nothing but frustration. Sitting back on his heels, he hung his head and clutched his knees. Blood flow had resumed to Nicki’s brain, so she was the one to stand up first, pulling her underwear and shorts over her hips as she moved.
Diving In Page 21
