by Anthology
***
“Hello, Mr. Davenport. Welcome to Portland.”
“Thank you.” I flashed my polite, professional smile and pulled out my wallet, flipped it open, and placed my credit card on the counter. I did this all without looking directly at the desk clerk. She had already winked at me once, and I wasn’t interested. I may have been hard-up, but I was choosy. The wedding ring on her finger told me she was definitely the wrong choice.
I let my eyes wander and they landed on a woman in a black suit jacket and floaty skirt to my left. Her back was to me, but the length of her skirt gave me a good view of her sexy sun-kissed legs, which were outstanding. My cock responded and left me wanting to adjust the strain against my zipper.
“Here you go, Mr. Davenport.” The front desk clerk slid the small booklet with my key cards and hotel information across the marble counter. “Your reservation was for our Hollander Suite, but I was able to put you in our Presidential Suite.”
“Thank you, but that wasn’t really necessary,” I stated, and when I reached for the paperwork, she rested her hand on top of mine. I raised one eyebrow, glanced at her hand, and then looked back up. Her disregard for my irritation was starting to piss me off.
“It was no trouble at all, and if I can be of any further assistance, just let me know. My name is Wendy.” She pointed to her name tag that sat low on her chest. “Please do enjoy your stay.”
“Thank you, Wendy,” I clipped.
When I turned back toward the woman with the great legs, she was already gone. Checking my watch, I had twenty minutes to spare before the conference check in started, and I needed coffee if they expected me to stay awake through it.
“Excuse me, Wendy?”
“Yes, Mr. Davenport?” Wendy pushed herself closer to the counter and leaned forward, trying to lessen the distance between us.
“It looks like I have a few minutes before I need to check in for my conference. Could you get my bags to the bell desk and direct me to the nearest coffee shop?”
“My pleasure. Let me get someone to help you with that.” She made a quick phone call. “There’s a coffee shop about a block that way.” She pointed to the right of the exit. “If not, there’s a—”
“Great. Thank you.” I turned and the bell clerk stood behind me, waiting to hand me a blue ticket.
“Mr. Davenport, please call the number on this ticket when you’re ready for your bags to be delivered.”
“Thank you. I will.” I nodded a good day gesture and left to search for coffee.
It took only a few minutes to get my coffee, and I ended up reading the paper just outside the heavy wooden doors that lead to the conference room. There wasn’t any reason for me to go in earlier than I needed to. I had just checked my watch for what felt like the hundredth time when I heard a familiar laugh that snapped my attention away from the paper. I jerked my head but couldn’t make out which direction it came from. I scanned the area, and when I panned to the right, I stopped myself from squeezing the hot liquid out of my cup.
Malia Jameson—my college sweetheart—was standing ten feet away, holding a clipboard, and looking professional and gorgeous. The girl I let down, not to mention let go. She was talking to two men in business suits, and when she laughed again, I almost lost it.
I took in her breathtaking beauty. She still had her exotic good looks, her skin a shade darker than the color of honey, chocolate-colored hair with natural highlights twisted perfectly on the back of her head. I didn’t realize I was moving until I was standing right behind her. “Malia.”
She turned slowly, and the look of shock on her face most likely mirrored mine. The last time we spoke—or even saw each other—was five years ago when she left Portland and moved back home to Hawaii to care for her ill grandfather.
“Zack? Zack Davenport.” She wrapped her free arm around my neck, pulled me toward her, and hugged me. “Holy shit, Zack. I can’t believe it’s you.” Malia stepped back and pressed her clipboard against her chest, but I couldn’t seem to form words. Her beautiful hazel eyes that I had dreamt about for five years captivated me, rendering me speechless.
“Zack, are you okay?” She rested her hand on my forearm and all my attention went to memorizing how soft her skin felt against mine. How was it that she wasn’t reading me off? Screaming at me to get the hell away from her? I had been a colossal jerk for changing my mind at the midnight hour and not getting on that airplane with her.
I glanced at the shiny name tag pinned to her suit jacket and shook my head in confusion. “You work here? I thought you moved back home to Hawaii.” Of all the things I could have said, I should have at least offered her an apology.
“I moved back about three years ago.”
CHAPTER TWO—Malia
“So what brings you to Portland?” I asked. It had been a long time since we had seen one another. I did my best to hide my nerves. I didn’t want him to know that I knew he was going to be here for the conference or that I was both nervous and excited to see him again. I had to act as if my being here was a complete coincidence.
Then I remembered that I should be pissed and ready to claw his eyes out for the way he left things. I hated him for not getting on that plane with me, right? My heart said I should still be hurt, but my head said I shouldn’t be. It was a long time ago.
Moving back home to Hawaii five years ago to help my grandmother take care of my terminally ill grandfather was the best decision I ever made. With my dad working two jobs and my mother working mostly nights, my grandparents practically raised my younger sister Sydney and me. When my grandma called and said they needed me, I didn’t hesitate. I knew my grandpa’s time on this earth was limited. By the time I made it home, the cancer had reached stage four and a year later, he lost his battle.
“Engineer’s conference,” he stated.
“You should be in there then.” I pointed, directing him toward the large wooden doors.
As the hotel’s Assistant Banquet Manager, it was my duty to verify that all functions were in order and to the clients’ liking. Prior to Zack showing up, I had been speaking with the two gentlemen hosting the convention, and they disappeared through the doors a few minutes ago. Zack should be in there, too.
“I still can’t believe you’re here,” he said in disbelief, but when a lazy frown appeared, my heart rate spiked.
“In the flesh.” I smiled nervously. “Well, you should get in there; the doors are going to close shortly.”
“Have dinner with me.”
It was more of a plea than an invitation.
“I don’t know…” I shifted my clipboard around.
Could I—should I even accept? This could quite possibly end as badly as it did five years ago. My head and heart battled again. The former telling me that it wouldn’t be any more than catching up with an old friend, but the latter telling me I shouldn’t even risk opening that door again.
“Please.” His eyes and his smile were full of hope. “I would love to catch up.”
Old memories came to mind, and I didn’t need to consider my decision any longer. I was a mature adult, and he was here for only a few days. My heart won the internal battle.
“Sure. I’m off Friday and Saturday, so whichever day works best for you.”
“Tomorrow night then, can I pick you up? Shit, I don’t have my car.” Had he always looked so delicious when he was nervous?
“Don’t worry about it.” I smiled, patting his bicep. “Did you want to meet here, and we can have dinner in the hotel restaurant? Or we could go somewhere else.”
“Whatever is easiest for you.”
“Somewhere else it is then. I’ll pick you up. Meet me in the lobby at seven?”
“Seven. I’ll be there.”
“Good.” I smiled again. “You should get going. Have a good day, Zack.”
“You too, Malia.” He started to walk away but stopped and looked over his shoulder. “It was really good to see you,” he said before finally wal
king away.
The rest of my day was a nightmare, and by the time seven thirty rolled around, I was past ready to call it quits. Either my clients had missed their therapy sessions or it was National Complainer’s Day. With the exception of hosts for the convention Zack was attending, every single person I spoke to had something to rant about. My feet ached, my skin itched from that damn three-piece suit, and I desperately needed a drink.
I switched my jacket for a sweater, untwisted my bun, and fluffed my long hair before I quietly slipped into the hotel bar for a drink.
After sliding onto a barstool, I waited patiently for Garren to serve his customer so I could grab his attention.
“Hey, Malia, it’s been a while. What can I get for you, babe?” He stepped up and wiped the bar in front of me.
“Beer’s good.”
Garren raised an eyebrow and glanced at his bare wrist. “It’s close to eight. You’re probably dead tired. You sure a beer is going to be strong enough?”
I nodded, and he made quick work of popping the top off and placing the bottle, along with a chilled glass, in front of me. I took bottle and gently pushed the glass back to him.
“Don’t need it tonight.”
“Hard day?”
I nodded with the bottle pressed to my lips. “You could say that.” After seeing Zack, I wasn’t sure what kind of day I had.
“Excuse me, Malia?” The bar hostess politely interrupted as she placed a martini with three olives in front of me. “Compliments of the gentleman.”
I smirked and looked at Garren. “Thanks.” I didn’t order it, but I wasn’t about to turn down my favorite drink. “A dirty martini with three olives.” I licked my lips. “Exactly how I like it.”
I was brought out of my sexy innuendo by a strangled cough behind me, which also had Garren retreating to a safe distance. I looked over my shoulder, and my eyes fell on a very flushed Zack standing there, loosening his tie.
“Shit,” I whispered and bowed my head.
“I take it you still like your martinis the same way?” He pointed to the open barstool next to me. “Is this seat taken?”
I bit the inside of my bottom lip, shook my head, and looked directly into his eyes. That was a mistake. Their current shade of blue left me yearning to fist his slate-colored tie and tangle our tongues together.
“I’m guessing this was you?”
“It was. I figured you looked like you needed a drink, and I…”
“Have a seat.” I didn’t know why I saved him from his obvious discomfort. Old habit? Maybe.
“Thanks.” He slid effortlessly onto the stool next to me, and I plucked the little sword from my new drink.
“Are you here alone?” I asked, right before I bit off an olive.
“Yes.” He raised his finger at Garren. “Jack neat, please.”
“Coming right up,” Garren responded.
“You’re here late. Are you still working?” He chuckled. “If you are, then you’re being a very bad girl drinking on company time.”
“No. I’m done, and thank goodness I don’t have to be back for the next four days. Today was—”
Garren placed Zack’s drink in front of him.
“Room charge please—five twelve—and anything this lovely lady would like.”
“Zack! No, don’t be silly. Besides, I’m not staying long. I only stopped in for a quick night cap.”
“Why don’t we order some food from the bar and move to a table?” he asked, gesturing to a cozy quiet corner.
I declined with a shake of my head and sipped my martini. It was a quick reaction. One born of years of dismissing guys when they hit on me. Yet, I knew Zack and the heat swirling in his eyes was one I was very, very familiar with. Someone else may have mistaken the way he licked his lips with purpose as something else, but not me. I knew what it meant. Heartbreak, time, and distance hadn’t done a thing to squash the heat and lust that ignited between the two of us, and if I started this, I knew exactly where we would end up.
Next thing I knew, I was draining my martini and sliding off the barstool. “Do you want to get out of here?”
CHAPTER THREE – Zack
I shrugged. “Sure, why not.”
“Night, Garren. I’ll see you in a few days,” she called over her shoulder. I didn’t miss the slight squint of his eyes that had me questioning if he and Malia had something more. Too bad, my girl was with me tonight. Where the hell did that come from? I blamed my possessive thought on comfort and familiarity.
With my hand on the small of her back, I followed her out to her car. “Where are we headed? Should I be concerned?” I chuckled, trying to ease the nerves with a bit of humor.
“Portland City Grill. Have you been there before?”
“Can’t say that I have.”
“Well, you’re going to love it.” She turned and beamed at me before pressing the fob for her car. I don’t know why I expected the beat-up Civic she used to drive, but when I saw the Mini Cooper she just unlocked, I turned to her and smiled.
“Cute car, it suits you.” I opened her car door for her.
She slid into the driver’s seat. “Thanks. I like to think so.”
I jogged around back and got comfortable in the passenger’s seat. A second after she started the engine, music came through the speakers, and in an instant I knew it was some kind of local Hawaii music—not actual Hawaiian music, but modern, upbeat stuff.
“I see you’re still listening to the same thing.”
“Can’t help it. It makes me feel closer to home.”
“My hapa girl.” I chuckled and spun her Hawaiian bracelet around her dainty wrist.
“My haole boy,” she said as her comeback. She was staring out the windshield, lost in thought as the car idled. She had given us those nicknames back when we were in college. My subconscious took over, and I laid my hand on her thigh.
Her breath hitched and her lips pulled down at the corners. She didn’t turn to me, though. I wasn’t even sure if it had to do with my hand on her thigh or our reminiscent comments to one another. Maybe it was both.
“I’m sorry,” I said, pulling my hand back. “I have no idea what came over me.” But she continued to avoid looking at me, so I reached out and gently turned her chin toward me.
“Hey, it was bound to happen. We’re two old friends with a past. Memories are bound to resurface, but there’s nothing to be nervous about.”
She nodded, but I didn’t remove my finger. Instead, I leaned in a little and brought her mouth to mine. The moment she whispered my name, I knew I’d been fooling myself. I had never gotten over this girl.
Our lips touched, and hers were soft and delicate—a small piece of a perfect memory. My hand wrapped around the back of her neck and my tongue begged her lips for entrance. For the briefest second she hesitated, but when I refused to waiver she gave in.
Malia’s hand gripped onto my forearm and she moaned into my mouth. The vibration caused lust and fear to rip through me. Ignoring the latter I pushed my tongue deeper into her mouth, and when her tongue swirled with my own, all the blood in my body shot directly to my cock.
Her muffled whimpers and moans filled the confined space, and I had a half mind to rip her clothes off in that damn car. I needed to be closer to her, even if it were just physical. My hand traveled down the side of her body, landing with a death grip on her hip.
Then, she pulled away from me. “Zack,” she breathed out the words. “Maybe we should go back to your room.”
“What are you asking? What do you want, sweetheart?”
She licked her lips in a nervous reaction. “You. Your body. Your pleasure.”
“Are you sure about that, Malia?” I leant back against my seat and loosened my tie. It was too hot and too hard to breathe. The Malia I knew back in college would never have asked me that. Was it because she knew me or had she become that type of girl? Was that why the bartender had given her that look? A streak of jealousy pierced through me, and
my teeth ground together.
When she pressed her palm to my cheek, her touch calmed me. I leaned into her and took note of her sigh. “I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t sure. Plus, what harm could it do?” I shrugged. “I live here in Portland and you live in…” She paused, unsure of exactly where it was I called home.
“San Diego,” I answered.
“See, we are two adults. I don’t see anything wrong with it. Unless of course, you think this was a bad idea—”
I cut her off. “You caught me by surprise, is all.”
Time ticked away as we sat idle. We were running out of time. I grabbed her hand. “Are you absolutely positive about this?”
“I am,” she answered softly.
“Come with me.”
Holding tight to Malia’s hand, I led her back into the hotel as if I were the one who had walked this route a million times. I pressed the call button for the elevator and buried my impatience as I watched the numbers slowly descend from the fourteenth floor to the lobby.
Malia stepped into the elevator, and to my surprise I caught a flash of disappointment on her face reflected in the mirrored wall.
A man in a business suit stood in the opposite corner, too engrossed in his cell phone to notice either one of us. I chuckled silently as I pressed the button for the fifth floor and took a step back to stand next to her.
Rather than act on the indiscreet notions playing in my mind, I settled for twirling her charm bracelet that I noticed on her other wrist. There were a few small charms dangling. But it was the turtle that stood out.
“Honu,” she answered my silent question. “I love turtles. It was a Christmas gift from my sister.”
“I remembered you love turtles. I just couldn’t remember what you called them.”
After that, I drew lazy circles with my pinky along the back of her hand. Her deep, savoring breaths were a dead giveaway of what my little touches did to her.
