by Tracy March
The steel band struck up another tune, as Paige took the last swallow of her second rum punch. Her slight buzz took the edge off her nerves.
“I got a phone call this afternoon from Cecil Garvey,” Don said to Lane. “Remember him?”
Lane narrowed his eyes as if he was trying to place the name. “Family practice guy in Richmond?”
Don nodded. “West of town. His practice is booming. We’ve talked about you before—about your situation.” He shot Paige a cautious glance. “He’s looking for someone young and dynamic to come on board to keep the practice fresh and updated—maybe a couple of partners. Cecil agreed to meet with you after we get back to the States.” He gave Lane a stern-father look. “This could be a plum opportunity for you, but he’s got some questions about what happened in Austin.”
Lane winced.
Paige would’ve expected a more enthusiastic reaction from him, but she was kind of lost without the backstory. She concentrated on her soup, trying to ignore her irrational disappointment that Lane might go practice in Richmond after Dr. Hartley came back to Maple Creek. It’s temporary, she kept reminding herself. Even if it wasn’t, who’d want to sign up for stuffy in-laws like the Andersons?
Karen leveled her insistent gaze on Don. “Just explain to Cecil that it was Stephanie who—”
Stephanie?
Lane whipped his head in his mom’s direction, his eyes wide. “Can we please talk about something else?” He yanked his blue napkin from his lap and swiped it across his mouth, but a flash of pink lace caught Paige’s eye, and apparently Don’s and Karen’s, too. Lane must’ve caught the elastic band of Paige’s thong as he’d angrily grabbed his napkin, and it dangled limply from his fingers.
Oh. Holy. Crap.
Karen’s and Don’s faces froze. Absolutely mortified, Paige reached out and bunched the thong in her fist, careful not to spring it into someone’s soup. Lane cleared his throat and put his napkin back in his lap, while Paige stuffed the thong into her purse. Her crazy underwear had probably seen more action today than anyone on this boat.
Paige closed her purse and took a deep breath. No one said a word. Say something, Paige…anything. “Did you know ants can survive in the microwave because they’re small enough to dodge the rays?”
Karen, Don, and Lane stared at her blankly.
She forced a half smile, estimating whether she could swim the distance to shore if she jumped off the catamaran right this second and didn’t encounter a shark. “Amazing, huh?”
…
As gorgeous as that catamaran was, Paige had never been more excited to get her feet back on solid ground. After dinner, she and Lane had made the best of the evening, mingling with Liza’s and Cole’s families and friends.
She led Lane into her sanctuary, serenely blue and beautiful, and blessedly private after such a social evening. The chirping of insects was a peaceful lullaby compared to the high-energy music of the steel-drum band. It had been festive and tropical, but enough of the clanging was enough.
Lane stopped her just inside the door, took her in his arms, and kissed her as if it might be the last chance he’d have. That’ll come soon, too. She lost herself in the softness of his lips, the gentle scrape of his whiskers, the sensation of falling…for him. She’d thought she could handle a fling with him, but the reality of the conversation at dinner—prior to the thong’s guest appearance—scratched at the back of her mind.
“How about we pick up where we left off this morning?” he whispered in her ear, his breath warm and moist.
Her knees went a little weak, picturing him naked in the pool, water dripping from his hair and streaming in seductive rivulets down his ripped body. “Then we’d have to invite your parents over. And I think the housekeeper took your sheet.”
“I’m perfectly happy for you to go sheetless.” His green eyes glimmered as he gently loosened her ponytail, combed his fingers through her hair, and fanned it across her shoulders. The feathery sensation raised goose bumps on her arms.
“Beautiful,” he whispered.
Paige’s heart hitched. That word was a one-note symphony coming from his lips. She wanted so badly to forget everything else and focus on him, but the question of what had really happened in Austin wouldn’t let her. In the spa today, Sylvia and Liza had given her the feeling there was more to the story than she’d been told.
She led him to the love seat that faced the pool and the view, and they sat down. After kicking off her shoes, she stretched her legs across his lap and clutched his hand.
“No swim?” he asked, his bottom lip sticking out like a pouty little kid’s.
Paige kissed it lightly and was tempted to linger, but forced herself not to. “We’ll swim. I promise. But first I need you to tell me everything that happened in Austin.”
“I told you most of it,” he said guardedly, as if he’d hoped that would’ve been enough. What could be so awful that it had to be such a big secret? He stayed quiet for an uncomfortably long time, smoothing his hand up and down her bare shin, making it hard for her to stay focused.
“I appreciate that,” she said, “but I get the feeling there’s more to the story. I also get the feeling that other people know the rest of it, but they aren’t telling. So if you’ve trusted Liza and Sylvia with some kind of confidence—and your parents, of course—then they’ve obviously got your back, because no one’s betrayed it.” She swept her fingertips across his scruffy jawline and lightly turned his head to face her. “I think I might be the only one who’s in the dark about…something. I’m hoping you’ll let me in on the secret.”
The angles of his face seemed sharper in the shadows, and he looked even more irresistible than he had up until now. Paige took a second to warn herself not to fall so hard that she’d never get up. Their vacation would be over in two days, and he was leaving Maple Creek within weeks. So why was she bothering to get him to fess up to his backstory? She should’ve just stripped and jumped in the pool with him.
“I had a practice in Austin,” he said, “with a partner I went to med school with.” He gazed out at the night sky. “I thought it was going great—we even won the Top Docs of Austin award, kind of unheard of for start-ups like us.”
“That’s pretty cool.”
“It was immensely cool. I had a successful practice going, I got to play some music once in a while, I had my future all planned out.” He clenched his jaw. “But then one of my partner’s patients died from an overdose of painkillers she prescribed. It was awful.”
“That wasn’t your partner’s fault,” Paige said, but he didn’t seem to hear her.
“Odds are that terrible things like that are going to happen, and we were trying to do our best not to let them.” He shook his head ruefully. “But it turns out we weren’t.”
Paige’s stomach knotted.
“Another of my partner’s patients died—another overdose,” he said gravely. “So I’ll give you the condensed version of this horror story.” He pressed his hand against his forehead for a second and dragged it down his face. “Turns out my partner was overprescribing painkillers to her patients. Our practice came under scrutiny. The law got involved. Patients stopped coming. We had to shut down, and she was facing charges.”
The rum punch buzz Paige had sat down with was officially killed. “What about you?” She hated to ask the question, but she had to.
He pressed his lips together tightly.
Please say you weren’t involved.
“I had no idea what was going on, but some people found that hard to believe.”
Paige closed her eyes for a moment, and wondered if she was one of them. She didn’t know much about running a medical practice, but it was hard to imagine that they wouldn’t keep a tight watch over that kind of thing.
“I’m still being monitored very closely by the authorities,” he said, “even though I was innocent. That’s why I said I was in no position to get involved with your Special Recipe program. I couldn’t risk any scrutiny over how
patients’ information was being disseminated, and the technicalities that might be involved. Everything is totally legit, I know, but everything I did before was, too.”
Paige sat there dazed, taking it all in.
“I could see where it might be hard to separate you from what your partner did.”
Lane rubbed his eyes. “It was. Still is, I guess.” He faced her with a look of vulnerability that stole her heart. “Because my partner was my fiancée.”
Paige’s stomach leaped into her throat. “No way.”
“Believe it or not, I stood by her, and tried to work through it, which probably made me look even guiltier.”
“That was noble.” Paige would’ve guessed him to be loyal, but that level of loyalty was really impressive—or really naive.
“I loved her,” he said quietly. “I thought we’d get past it eventually and have a life together. I mean, it took a while, but she beat the charges.”
“So why aren’t you with her?”
He leveled his gaze on Paige. “Because the whole time I was standing by her, she was having an affair with her lawyer.”
Paige’s mind was officially blown. She took his hand and kissed it gently. “That. Sucks. You totally didn’t deserve that. And your parents still love her?”
“They didn’t know about the affair until today. I think right now they’re just trying to wrap their heads around it.”
“You protected her even after she did that to you?”
He nodded.
Paige watched as the light in the pool lazily drifted from blue to green, the jealousy she’d felt in the spa rising in her again. Even after Stephanie had cost Lane his practice and his reputation—and cheated on him—he’d loved her enough to shield her from more scrutiny from his parents, and suffer their judgment himself. That said a lot about his loyalty and commitment to her. Paige wondered how he could possibly have moved beyond feelings that had been so deep. She pinched her eyes closed, wishing she hadn’t had that last rum punch.
Maybe all Lane needed was more time to heal, and then he’d want Stephanie back.
Chapter Eighteen
Dressed in khakis and a pale-blue polo shirt, Lane sat on a tall stool to the side of the seated group, playing from memory the classical pieces that Liza and Cole had requested for their wedding. The soothing combination of acoustic guitar and Bach perfectly set the mood, accented by the electric blue-green view of the sea, sky, and mountains from the cliffside terrace. The sun would set in an hour, so the sky would turn psychedelically beautiful during the ceremony. Perfect timing on a perfect day.
Everyone was eager to see the bride and groom, but Lane was most interested in getting a glimpse of the maid of honor. Last night hadn’t turned out like he’d imagined, and he wondered if he and Paige could get back some of the magic that had sparked between them that first night. Before his parents had shown up yesterday. Before he’d misunderstood her relationship with Trent Hawthorne. And before he’d come clean about what had really gone down in Austin.
He thought she’d taken the story pretty well, but she seemed to still be processing it all. Hell, so was he, so that could take a while. A while that Lane didn’t have. Tonight was their last night in St. Lucia.
Lane understood why his story hadn’t led to romance after the rehearsal dinner—no skinny-dipping or games of strip dessert. He’d imagined that Paige was the kind of girl who would take a story like his very seriously. But she’d let him stay. They’d fallen asleep together, and had breakfast this morning before she left to do whatever it was that bridesmaids did.
Hopefully everything would settle, and she’d be open to spending their last night together—doing more than just sleeping. Maybe the wedding would influence the romantic in her. Meanwhile, he’d try to keep his own demons at bay, considering he would’ve been getting married himself in the spring.
Caldera’s wedding coordinator gave Lane the signal that the wedding procession was about to begin, and he wrapped up the Bach and segued into Mozart. The minister came down the aisle, followed by Cole and his dad, dressed island casual in stone-colored slacks and breezy, pale-blue shirts with their sleeves turned up at the cuffs. They took their places between two tall tropical flower displays, Cole looking like he stepped out of a Tommy Bahama ad—totally a guy’s guy—and his dad standing by proudly.
Lane imagined himself in Cole’s position, just minutes away from marrying the woman of his dreams, and couldn’t help but experience a green flash of envy.
Paige stepped around the corner of the path beyond the crowd and headed up the aisle, looking radiant in bright blue with her hair in an elegant updo. Lane’s heart swelled, and he nearly missed a chord. All the memories they’d shared, from the first time he’d seen her at the barbershop, to the mud baths, to the magical night in his sanctuary, played in his mind like an unfinished song that he was compelled to keep playing.
One more night…that’s the deal we made. And it was the only path that was realistic for the two of them.
The wedding coordinator signaled that Liza would appear in a moment, and Lane began playing the Vivaldi piece she’d chosen. Cole beamed as she stepped into his view. His dad patted him on the back and nodded approvingly.
…
“You may kiss the bride,” the minister said to Cole, who didn’t waste a second before he wrapped Liza in his arms and kissed her.
Overwhelmed by the romantic ceremony, Paige dabbed her eyes with a tissue. Her heart was about to burst with happiness for her friends. She glanced at Lane, who hands-down had to be the hottest guy on the island—no, the planet—as he played guitar. He’d just started impressively strumming another classical song, now that the ceremony was over. Normally, the bride and groom would walk back up the aisle, all formal, but friends and family had already gathered around Cole and Liza, casually happy and deliberately careless of tradition.
Paige and Liza had gotten their heart-to-heart friend time before the wedding, and they were sure to have plenty more later. While she’d gladly do whatever Liza expected of a maid of honor, Paige had no intention of hogging the bride. She stepped over to Lane and caught a tinge of his spicy cologne on the breeze. Inhaling deeply, she lost herself imagining the two of them in her bed, with nothing but time, each other, and a starry sky above.
They had until tomorrow.
She leaned in and whispered, “How about some Jason Aldean?”
He grinned, flashing his dimples, his eyes glinting in the sun. Paige’s insides swirled. Of all the guys in the world, the hottest one was hers—at least for now.
Never missing a note, he said, “I’ve got your big green tractor right here.”
She busted out laughing. “Sweet.” She looked at him coyly. “You offering me a ride?”
He leveled a sultry gaze on her. “The ride of your life.”
Oh, my.
Paige knew he was good for it. He’d proven it several times night before last. “I’ll take two.”
She’d given a lot of thought to what he’d told her last night—and even talked to Liza and Sylvia about it. All of them believed he’d been blindsided by the prescription drug scandal and the actions of his fiancée. Her heart broke for him, considering all he’d lost. Their time together was nearly over, but Paige wanted it to be happy. Now that she knew the whole story about Austin, she understood his paranoia about the Special Recipe program and his need to practice medicine by the book. Hopefully her business would pick up some when Dr. Hartley came back and set everyone straight.
But Lane will be gone…
She was already working overtime to find creative ways to keep Sweet Bee’s afloat and to convince skeptical customers that her recipes were still good for them, even though Dr. Anderson hadn’t said so. But she was willing to keep going double-time if she and Lane could change the rules of their fling and he could stay in Maple Creek longer. But why would he? Nothing was there for him. He was likely headed to Richmond—fortunate to have the opportunity consider
ing his guilt-by-association in the pill-prescribing scandal.
In a moment of indulgent fantasy, Paige imagined Lane asking her to move to Richmond with him. Could she bear to leave her dad in Maple Creek? He was doing better now, and seeming less melancholy over losing her mom. Paige could visit him often. It might just be possible. Maybe she could even move Sweet Bee’s to Richmond, where it was bound to be more successful. Or she could get a job as a pastry chef again. Excitement swirled through her, and built up her hopes for the future. But now she needed to focus on the moment. She and Lane had a little time left in paradise, and tonight, he was all hers.
…
The festive reception had wound down, and Lane figured it was socially acceptable for him and Paige to slip away. He’d been patient, being near her for hours and longing to hold her. His restraint had dwindled to nothing.
He’d taken her hand and whispered, “Come with me.” She hadn’t hesitated.
By the beam of a penlight and the glow of the moon, Lane led her along a trodden mountainside path.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked, seeming excited about the adventure…another thing he liked about her.
“It’s a surprise.”
“I love surprises.” She squeezed his hand tightly.
They came upon a lush alcove where a teak trellis covered a cushioned double chaise. He lit a candle on a nearby cocktail table, illuminating a sea of tropical blooms around and atop the trellis, and flower petals on the chaise.
She covered her open mouth with her hand, gazing at him with wide, glistening eyes, as if she might cry. “I never expected anything like this.”
Lane gently drew her hand away from her mouth and wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. “You deserve special surprises.” And so much more. He caught himself wishing for more time to surprise her, and imagining all the ways he could do it. He kissed her hair, aroused by the fresh vanilla scent of it.
“And here I was thinking you’d rustled up a green tractor for us to ride on.”
He laughed. “Nope. That was purely metaphorical, so I hope this will do.”
