by Marie Carnay
He scratched at his day-old stubble. “I didn’t mean to.”
“But you did.”
“Yeah.”
Beckett didn’t respond. Instead, he brushed past Bronx and headed out to the beach. A handful of steps away he called out. “Are you coming?”
Bronx paused. He might be scruffy and older, with secrets and hidden agendas, but that was the brother Bronx knew: always assuming his little brother would be a few steps behind.
As usual, Bronx couldn’t say no. He followed Beckett’s trail through palm trees and birds of paradise until they emerged a hundred feet down shore. A fallen palm tree cut across the sand and Beckett made his way to it. He sat down and motioned for Bronx to do the same.
He picked a spot a few feet away and waited. With the early sun hanging low on the other side of the island, the beach was still shady and cool. If they sat long enough, they’d probably catch a glimpse of the local dolphins swimming by on their rounds.
“I’m not going to ask you to stop pursuing Chelsea.”
Bronx turned to his brother. “What?”
“You heard me.” Beckett perched on the trunk, elbows on his knees, hands clasped. “If you’re interested in her, fine. But I’m not backing off, either.”
“So this is some sort of contest?”
“No. It’s just how it is.”
It didn’t make any sense. Beckett was giving Bronx the go-ahead to pursue a woman he was interested in, too. “Why not just tell me to go to hell?”
“I have my reasons.”
Here we go again. “Let me guess. It’s got something to do with showing your little brother up, am I right?”
Beckett exhaled in a huff. “That is what you’d think, isn’t it? Pursue her or not, I’m not your keeper, Bronx. But I’m not handing her over on a silver platter, either. You don’t get to swoop in here with your fancy clothes and New York apartment and whisk her away.”
He pushed off the fallen tree to stand. “She’s here for a month. On my island, not yours. Don’t forget that.”
Bronx stood as well. Beckett might be older and he might have a claim to Sarabelle that Bronx didn’t, but he wasn’t going to stand there and lord it over him. “You need to remember who pays your bills.”
Beckett stared at him, face devoid of emotion. “Our family’s legacy pays them, Bronx. You don’t get all the credit.”
“If it weren’t for me, the investments wouldn’t be performing the way they are. The businesses I’ve started, the companies I’ve bought and sold. That’s what’s keeping you here, Beckett. Not our father’s will. Not the Kingston name.”
Beckett stepped forward. “You like to think you’re some self-made man, but you’re not. Everything you have was handed to you, right down to the name you sign on your checks.”
This is why Bronx never came to visit. It didn’t matter how many years had passed, Beckett still hated him for his father’s choices. “I didn’t choose this life, Beckett. Neither did you.”
“Yeah? Well at least I’m trying to make something out of it. Something that’s my own. More than I can say for you.”
Bronx shook his head. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Beckett took a step back. “Forget it.”
“No! I won’t forget it.” Bronx couldn’t believe his brother would throw a dagger like that and think he would drop it. “You think this island is something unique? Something that’s just yours? Are you nuts? Everything built here, every speck of land, it was handed to you.”
“That’s what you choose to see, Bronx.” Beckett turned to leave, but Bronx stepped in his path.
“We aren’t done with this discussion.”
Beckett side-stepped into a thicket of leaves. “Funny, I thought we were fighting.”
“There’s something going on here, Beckett. You’re keeping secrets.”
His brother paused about ten feet away. He turned and even from that distance, Bronx could see the hurt on his face. Damn it.
“Just leave it alone, will you Bronx? Nothing on Sarabelle is your concern.”
“I’m worried about you.”
Beckett smiled, but it wasn’t with joy. “It’s a tropical paradise, Bronx. You shouldn’t worry about anything. I called in the chef. He’s stocked the fridge with meals. Go get some breakfast.”
“What about you?”
“I can take care of myself.”
“And Chelsea?”
“We’ll just have to wait and see.”
Bronx stood on the path until his brother disappeared from view. He didn’t know what to make of Beckett. One minute, he seemed full of secrets, the next he was acting like he hadn’t a care in the world.
Going after Chelsea had been a mistake. He never should have kissed her. Or groped her. Or… dreamt about her all fucking night. Jesus. He should leave the island before he screwed everything up.
Do what he’d intended and let Beckett have some company for a month. But then he thought of the locked side building and Beckett’s evasive answers. Did the man need some help? Was he in some sort of trouble?
Bronx knew he would be the last person Beckett would come to in a crisis. But they were still brothers. It meant something.
If Beckett wouldn’t tell him what the hell was going on, Bronx would just have to find out himself. Staying on Sarabelle was the only way to make that happen.
He just hoped he could trust himself not to get carried away with the sexy dark-haired beauty they’d brought along or his nagging doubts.
Chapter Eleven
CHELSEA
Beckett couldn’t have been more right. Falling asleep to the sound of the ocean was incredible. Waking up to the gentle sloshing of the waves was even better.
Chelsea stretched out in the teak four-poster bed, the crisp white sheets crinkling as she moved. Paradise was an understatement. Sarabelle Island was heaven on earth. After making herself presentable, she slipped on a sundress and a pair of flip-flops and opened the door to her room.
The smell of coffee directed her down the hall, and after descending a different flight of stairs, she found herself on a veranda.
Beckett stood at an outdoor kitchen, scooting scrambled eggs around a pan. With his wet hair, bare feet, and swim shorts, he looked every bit the island heartthrob. The naked torso didn’t hurt, either.
Chelsea had assumed muscles hid beneath his shirt, but she hadn’t expected a surfer’s body. Defined lats, sculpted shoulders, tight waist. Ass she could stare at all day.
She chewed on her lip and stared until Beckett turned around. He smiled, but his dimples weren’t the only distraction. The sexy cut of his abs made Chelsea’s eyes bulge. She followed the ridge of muscle down until it disappeared beneath his board shorts. Oh, my.
“Hungry?”
Starved. Chelsea peeled her gaze off his body and nodded. “Coffee first.”
“There’s a full pot over there and the eggs are just about ready. Scrambled okay?”
“Perfect.”
Chelsea poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down. “You seem to know your way around this place. Do you come here often?”
Beckett grabbed a pair of plates. “You could say that.”
“Is that why there’s not a lot of staff?”
He scooped a steaming mass of eggs onto her plate and shoved some fresh fruit on the side. “I take it you’ve never rented a house before?”
Chelsea took a sip to hide her embarrassment. “I rent an apartment.”
“This isn’t like an apartment or a hotel. Think of it like a giant house for rent. Tenants pretty much take care of everything themselves. It’s a little different here since everything has to be brought in by boat, but that’s all.”
“Guess I thought it would be more like a hotel. Silly, I know.”
Beckett sat down. “Not silly. There’s a chef—he brought a ton of food in this morning. And a few gardeners and a housekeeper. But they don’t live here. Most of the time it’s just the tenants. I
t’s very private.”
“Is that why Bronx paid so much for it?”
Beckett shoved a forkful of eggs into his mouth and nodded. “That’s part of it.” He pointed at her food. “You should eat before it gets cold.”
A few minutes later, Chelsea pushed away an empty plate with a groan. “That was delicious. Thank you.”
“No trouble.” Beckett stood up and cleared the plates. “Tell me, what would you like to do today?”
“You don’t have to entertain me. I’m sure I can find something to do on my own.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I know I don’t have to. I want to. Ever tried paddleboarding?”
Chelsea swallowed. “You mean those boards people stand on and push through the water?”
Beckett nodded.
“Isn’t it dangerous?”
“Not really. And I’m an expert at it. I could show you how. There’s an inlet just down the shore where the tide comes in super slow. It would be a great place to start.”
Chelsea exhaled. Liz had told her to take a few risks and do something outside of her comfort zone. Paddleboarding definitely qualified. The thought of standing on a board in the middle of the ocean freaked her out.
It was precisely the type of thing she needed to do. Chelsea smiled. “That sounds great. Just give me a few minutes to change, okay?”
Beckett smiled. “I’ll be waiting.”
Chelsea bounded up the stairs to her room. A whole day with Beckett, a board, and the ocean. She shouldn’t jump straight to dirty thoughts, but one look at him shirtless and she couldn’t help it.
If someone had told her he made his living as a professional surfer or cliff diver, she would believe it. Ripped didn’t begin to define his physique.
She shrugged off her sundress and tugged her swimsuit on. It wasn’t the sexiest number, but showing up in a itty bitty string thing with all her bits hanging out didn’t seem right. Or respectable.
Chelsea still didn’t know what to make of him. Was last night an accident? A one-time thing? God, she hoped not. The way he knew just where to touch her and just what to do…
Mmm. The thought had her sex clenching in anticipation. Paddleboards were big enough for two, right?
BECKETT
“When you said inlet, I’d expected something smaller.”
Beckett smiled and tugged Chelsea into the shallow waves. “Relax. We’ll start slow.”
“Easy for you to say.”
With a smile, Beckett pulled the paddleboard into the water. “How about we start with sitting? Then if you’re up to it, you can try to stand up.”
Chelsea glanced at the board and back at him. She was adorably nervous. “How exactly do I get on that thing?”
“I pick you up.”
“No, I don’t think—”
Before she could say any more, Beckett wrapped his hands around her waist and hoisted her straight up in the air. He set her on the board and hopped up behind her without so much as a splash.
“Oh.”
He smiled and straddled the board, spreading his legs until his knees could bend freely and his legs dangled off either side. “Here, scoot back and do what I’m doing. Face the water.”
Chelsea did as he’d asked, opening her legs and bracing herself as she slid back on the board. It wobbled, but Beckett leaned over the opposite side and the board calmed.
“Sorry. Am I messing this up already?”
“No. You’re doing just fine.” He pulled up the paddle. “So, to start, you take the paddle like this and you stick it a few feet into the water. Then you pull it back like you’re slicing through butter.”
He showed her, using the paddle to send them toward the edge of the inlet and the ocean beyond. “You try.”
Chelsea twisted around, her brow knitted in concentration as she took the paddle. She made a few strokes, sending the paddle into a circle before she laughed. “It’s not as easy as it looks.”
“You’ll get the hang of it. Let me help.” Beckett slipped his hands over hers and showed her how deep to send the paddle and how hard to pull it through the waves. “See? That’s better already.”
A few more strokes and Chelsea figured out the basics, paddling on her own out of the inlet and into the ocean beyond. A wave rocked them and she shied back, her body grazing his chest.
Beckett licked his lips. After getting a taste the night before, he couldn’t wait to lay Chelsea down and explore every inch of her body. One look at her in that two-piece swimsuit and he’d almost canceled the lesson.
Last night, Chelsea had been nervous and unsure. In the light of the day with the sun warming her skin and picking up the chestnut highlights in her hair, she was confident and stunning.
She leaned back and her hair fell over his shoulder. “Thank you for doing this.”
Beckett smiled despite himself. She shouldn’t be thanking him yet. Not when he had a whole panoply of scandalous scenarios running through his mind. He’d never had sex on a paddleboard, but it was doable. Along with so many other things.
He inched forward until his chest touched her back. Her hair tickled his skin and he brushed it to the side to expose acres of slender neck. With one hand on the paddle for balance, Beckett brushed his cheek along Chelsea’s shoulder.
“Thank you for coming. After last night, I wasn’t sure you’d want to see me again.”
She shifted closer. “You weren’t?”
“No.” He trailed a row of kisses down her neck until she sighed. “I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable.”
“Don’t be. Part of the reason I’m on this trip is to take some risks. Be daring. It’s my chance to get out of my comfort zone and try new things.”
Beckett grazed her shoulder with his teeth. “Like paddleboarding.”
“And sex with men I barely know.”
Damn. Here he thought he’d pushed her too far the night before. Talk about wrong. Beckett pulled the paddle out of the water and balanced it on Chelsea’s legs. “Hold onto this. Don’t let it fall in the water.”
“Okay.”
The hesitation in her voice made him grin. He scooted forward until his crotch nestled against her ass. The heft of his erection wedged between her plump cheeks and as Chelsea leaned back, it took all of Beckett’s self-control to keep from taking her right there.
But he had all month to learn her body. No sense in rushing.
CHELSEA
Oh my God. Can I die from anticipation? Chelsea held her breath and gripped the black paddle handle as Beckett’s breath fanned across her shoulder. She wanted him to rip her bikini off, flip her over and take her right there in the middle of the ocean.
Her breath snuck out of her lungs like a thief on the run, quick and desperate. If Beckett didn’t touch her soon…
There was the suggestion of his hands on her fevered stomach and she moaned. The white hot heat of his fingertips snaked around her middle and over her breasts and Chelsea cried out.
Last night she’d been consumed with worry. Would someone see them? Would they get caught in the middle of a naughty rendezvous?
Now out on the ocean, she didn’t care. Let a whole damn cruise ship lumber by. The kiss of his lips across her back torched her concerns.
Beckett swirled his fingers around her nipples, working the little nubs like dials on a transistor radio. Round and round he rubbed, searching for the perfect signal.
It was too much and not enough all at the same time. She let go of the paddle to reach for him when he stopped still. “I said, keep your hands on the paddle. If we lose it, we’ll be stranded.”
What was he talking about? Chelsea blinked her eyes open and her mouth fell along with them. While she’d been lost in the moment, they’d been drifting. Farther and farther out into the ocean they’d wandered until the whole island came into view.
A white sand beach fringed the deep green canopy of palms and ferns and a million other plants and the house rose like an orchid out of the middle. Sarabelle Island
was even more beautiful that she’d realized.
“Wow. Beckett. The view… it’s spectacular.”
“Yes, it is.” He reached forward and took her chin in his hand, twisting her upper body until his lips brushed hers. “But I guess you were talking about the island.”
As they kissed, Beckett slipped his hand beneath the fabric of her bikini bottoms, searching for the spot he’d already brought to life the night before. A fleeting wave of embarrassment hit Chelsea when his fingers slipped in with ease, but Beckett drowned it in pleasure.
“I love what I do to you.” His lips trailed across her cheek to nibble her ear. “How I can make you so wet with just my hand.”
His teeth dug into her earlobe until she gasped. “Just wait until it’s my cock filling you up and stretching you wide. You’ll scream out my name.”
Chelsea didn’t doubt it. “Beckett, please.” Just a little more…
One more stroke and she came, her vision blinding white and bliss crashing into her like a tsunami. What a paddleboard lesson.
As her vision cleared, Beckett kissed her shoulder. “Ready for something a bit more challenging? I bet you could stand if you tried.”
Chapter Twelve
CHELSEA
Sarabelle had been living up to all of the hype from the charity auction and then some. Chelsea couldn’t get over the natural beauty of the place and the tranquility.
So secluded and magical, she could see herself getting lost in the trees and never wanting to be found. Add Beckett into the mix and she couldn’t help but wish for a time machine. A way to stop the earth from spinning and live there in this paradise forever.
Paddleboarding had been spectacular. By the end of the day, she’d managed to not only stand up on the board, but steer it all by herself. They’d even caught a glimpse of a pair of dolphins sailing by as they ventured out into the waves.
