Not Husband Material: Billionaire's Contract Series

by Violet Paige

  “You’re here by yourself?”

  I gulped down the first half of the margarita before answering. “Yep. Stupid idea I guess.”

  “I don’t usually do this, but here.” He jotted something down on a napkin and slid it across the bar.

  I read the numbers. Oh my God. Did he just give me his phone number? Maybe he wasn’t the paternal type after all.

  “I’m Hank. If you need anything while you’re here, you give me a call. That’s my cell. Anything. I’m serious. It makes me a little nervous knowing a young girl like you is here alone.”

  I sighed. He was doing something my father would do. “Thanks, Hank. That’s really sweet. I’m Kaitlyn.”

  “Where are you staying? One of the big resorts?” He dried a beer pilsner before placing it on the shelf.

  “No. My boyfriend, I mean my ex-boyfriend, stole my room. The only place I could get a room was the Dune Scape.” I hoped it didn’t take me long to stop making that mistake about Branch.

  Hank chuckled. “The ole Dune Scape, you say. That place has seen better days.”

  “Yeah, it is in serious need of a makeover.” I tasted the salt on the rim of the glass. Someone should call HGTV and have them do a motel crashers episode on the place.

  “Cole’s working on it. It’s going to take some time. There’s a lot of work over there for one man to handle.”

  “Cole? You know him?”

  “Orders up!” a high-pitched voice called from the other end of the bar.

  Hank turned to retrieve my cheeseburger from the cook. He placed the plate in front of me.

  “Taste it. Go on. Try it.” He waited for my first bite.

  I didn’t need much prodding. My stomach growled at first sight of the plate of food. A pile of fries spilled over the side and onto the counter.

  “Mmm-hmm,” I managed to mumble through my first bite of the cheeseburger.

  “Told ya. Best burger on the island.” Hank threw a towel over his shoulder and moved down the bar to help a new customer.

  The last ounce of my drink tasted especially limey. I could feel waves of the tequila starting to warm my limbs. Hank delivered a second drink to me with an extra lime. Maybe it was the country crooner or the margarita, but for the first time all day, I felt relaxed.

  Then, he walked in.

  It was impossible to ignore the broad shoulders on his athletic frame as he passed between the pool players. He was almost a head taller than the other guys in the bar. He no longer wore the paint-splattered T-shirt. His hair looked damp, like he had just taken a shower. The blue plaid button-up shirt he wore was rolled up to his elbows. He was sexy in that silent, mysterious way, but Cole shouldn’t be mysterious to me.

  He used to come home with Ryan at Christmas break. He used to wake up on our couch. I had seen him brush his teeth. I’d seen him play basketball in our driveway. I’d watch him fight with Rayn over Halo. I knew this guy.

  But something about being in South Padre made me wonder if I knew this Cole. I didn’t know Cole the committed man. Cole the father. Cole who worked at Dune Scape.

  I was way too curious about him and trying too hard to catch a glimpse of his eyes again. I focused on the limes floating in my drink.

  “Hey, Cole. How’s it goin’?” Hank asked over the guitar player who had amped up his performance.

  Cole sat on a stool a few spots from me. “Hey, Kaitlyn.”

  “Hi.” I smiled. Was he not going to sit next to me?

  “Same ole, same ole, Hank.” He rested his forearms on the counter while Hank poured him a beer.

  “I hear ya, man.” Hank deposited the beer in front of him. “You ready for the grads over there?”

  “I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready. There’s a shit-ton of work to do.”

  “Hang in there, man. We’re all real proud of what you’re doing.” Hank smiled and walked toward the kitchen.

  Cole raised the glass to his lips and took a sip. I mirrored his actions. Every time he took a sip, I took a sip. I kept stealing looks at him behind the safety of my margarita glass. Within five minutes, my second margarita was history. My head felt slightly fuzzy, but my whole body was tingling from the tequila.

  A third margarita didn’t seem like a good idea, but I looked at the clock hanging above the row of liquor bottles. It was only ten o’clock. I debated ordering another drink from Hank when I felt a tap on my shoulder.

  “My buddy and I were wondering if you play pool.”

  A guy, who was so lean his T-shirt swallowed him, smiled a toothy grin. His friend stood next to him holding two pool cues.

  “I’m not much of a pool player.” I fidgeted on the barstool.

  “We can teach you. I’m Lance and this here’s my buddy, Cal.” They each tipped the brims of their cowboy hats. There was no mistaking it. They were local Texas boys.

  I waited for Cole to say something. To cut in and tell me he didn’t want me hanging out with other guys in the bar, but he stared at his beer.

  I twisted my lips together. “All right. I’ll give it a try, but only if you promise not to laugh when I completely whiff on my first try.” I took the stick from Lance.

  “We wouldn’t do that.” Lance’s smile was genuine.

  “I’m Kaitlyn, by the way.”

  Over the corner of Cal’s shoulder, I saw Cole. His eyes held mine with startling intensity. I was afraid that if I blinked, it would give him just enough leverage to see right into my thoughts. For a second, my knees went a little wobbly and my cheeks rushed with heat. Too many margaritas, Kaitlyn. I smiled at him, aware at how glad I was he had finally noticed me.

  “Ready to play?” Lance’s insistence shattered the trance. I hopped off the stool, wondering why Cole stared at me like that, and why it sent every nerve in my body into overdrive.

  I returned their smiles. “Yep. Teach away.”

  Regaining control of my senses, I followed them to a pool table. I leaned into the pool cue to steady myself as Cal and Lance argued about who was going to hit first. Knowing I had more distance from Cole, I peeked around the wall the guys made with their bodies. That look still had me distracted and curious. I watched as Cole threw a few bills on the bar and walked out of the double doors of Peabody’s. I exhaled and tried to settle my body back to its normal state.

  Lance grabbed the rack, and lined the inside of the tray with the stripe and solid-colored balls. “You’ve really never played pool before?”

  “No, I haven’t. I guess that does seem kind of weird.”

  “As long as you aren’t trying to hustle us.” He laughed.

  “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see, boys,” I teased, knowing I was blowing a lot of smoke.

  “Whoa, Lance. Sounds like she’s already challenging us.” Cal leaned over the table with the stick cradled along the ridge of his thumb. He swiftly shot the stick forward breaking the triangle and scattering the balls around the table.

  “We’re trying to teach her how to play, not how to embarrass herself.” Lance was having fun taunting his friend.

  “Go ahead, pool master. If you think that was so bad, show us how it’s done.” Cal stepped to the side and took a swig of his beer. He was slightly shorter than Lance, but with a stocky frame. I could easily imagine him as a running back.

  Lance’s eyes squinted into a thin line, and I saw him bite down on the side of his tongue while he lined up his shot. “Seven ball in that corner and the two over there.”

  “Now you’re just showing off for our guest.” Cal crossed his arms.

  Lance jutted the stick forward and made the two shots from the impact of one hit. “And that’s how it’s done. Want to bet me on the next one, Cal?”

  So, this is probably why I never played pool. Two strokes in and my new hosts were ready to gamble.

  Cal winked at me from under his hat. “He is definitely trying to impress you.”

  I smiled, but tried to ignore the comments and what Cal was insinuating. I wasn’t i
nterested in Lance like that. Both of the boys were sweet, but playing pool was enough for me.

  After three rounds, I mastered enough of a stroke to sink a few shots. Cal and Lance were fun to hang out with. I learned that they attended the local community college, and spent much of the graduation season at Lance’s parents’ beach house. They had been best friends since the age of five. I also learned Cal was short for Calhoun, a family name that had been passed down for four generations.

  “Looks like we taught Carolina here how to play eight ball.” Lance slapped his friend on the back before taking a sip from a longneck bottle.

  “I think I have a long way to go.” I handed the pool cue back to Lance. “But, thanks for the lesson. I had fun.”

  “Anytime. Wait. Can I buy you a drink before you leave?” Lance’s expression turned sheepish and his gaze hit the floor.

  I looked at him and knew then Cal had been right, Lance was crushing on me. “Thanks, but I’m pretty tired. Long day with the flight and the lost luggage, you know? Maybe another time.” I didn’t want our fun night to turn awkward. I was hoping he had put me in the friend zone from the beginning.

  “Sure, darlin’. We’ll do it another time. Good night.” Lance grinned. If he was disappointed, he didn’t show it. He leaned over and tucked a folded napkin in the crease of my fist.

  I didn’t need to open it right now to know what was on it.

  The guys tipped their hats in my direction as I waved goodnight.

  I walked across the street, and headed down the few blocks to the Dune Scape. The vacancy sign flashed in the office window. On the other side of the glass, Cole was sitting at the desk facing stacks of receipts and paper. An opened beer rested next to him. His hands were grasping either side of his head, and he was lost in a mound of paperwork. I noticed the clock above his head read almost 1 a.m. My pool playing with Cal and Lance had lasted longer than I realized.

  I paused for a second in front of the window, watching Cole sort through the piles and punch figures into a handheld calculator. It looked like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. I hesitated. I wanted to walk inside and tell him all the things weighing on my heart for over ten years.

  But it would be the confessions of a margarita.

  I walked past the office, knowing I never had a chance with Cole.

  “Wake up, baby,” his voice growled in my ear.

  “I can’t,” I whined.

  “This will help.”

  I felt a wide hand slide between my legs and begin to work over my clit.

  “Ohh.”

  “You awake yet?’

  I nodded. “God that feels good, Cole.”

  “How many times can I make you come tonight?” he teased.

  I shook my head. “I keep losing count.”

  His thumb pushed inside me. “Fuck, you’re wet. You like it when I come to you at night to fuck you, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” I answered. It was why I slept naked.

  He pumped in and out of me. “Good. Because it’s my favorite part of the day. Now spread those gorgeous legs and let me fuck you until you wake up from this dream.”

  Dream? I moaned. I sat forward. The air conditioner hummed in the wall and I reached down, my panties were soaked. Shit.

  I fell back on the bed. It wasn’t the first time I had dreamed about Cole and it wasn’t going to be the last.

  8

  Cole

  “Excuse me. Could you move please? You’re blocking my sun.”

  I stood directly in front of Kaitlyn, casting a wide shadow around her chair.

  “Sorry, princess. Didn’t mean to interfere with your busy morning.” I hid the smirk.

  She was the only one sunning at the Dune Scape pool. The pool was elevated above the parking lot, and from her guests could see the waves crashing on the beach. It wasn’t resort living, but it was a nice view.

  She sat straight up, grabbing her bikini straps and retied them. “Is the pool closed or something?” she asked.

  I exhaled. Her skin was glistening in the sun and she barely tied the top before I saw the pink of her nipples. Fuck. She was hotter than she should be.

  I turned around and grabbed the net from the fence and skimmed the top of the water. “No, but I have work to do. Not everyone can sit at the pool all day,” I joked.

  “That’s the point of vacation, isn’t it?”

  “Darlin’, like I said, I have work to do.” I scooped a bug into the net.

  “Does the management know you talk to guests like this?” I heard the teasing in her voice. When did Kaitlyn Sinclair turn into a sassy spitfire?

  I laughed. “Management? Huh, that’s funny.”

  “I know you saw me last night,” she blurted.

  I paused. “Yeah, looked like you met some friends over at Peabody’s.”

  “You could have at least said hi—or something.”

  “So could you.” I arched my eyebrows.

  What was I supposed to do? Tell her she couldn’t hang out with guys on the island? Lance and Cal were good guys. Ryan would never approve of anyone his sister dated, but at least knew she was safe with them. I’d made sure of that before I left last night.

  “True. You’re right. I just played pool—that’s all.” She sat forward and I eyed the curves of her thighs. “Thanks for sending me to Tassels Surf Shop. Lisa was really nice and she set me up with some clothes. I couldn’t get out of those bourbon-stained jeans fast enough.”

  “Good choice. That blue looks good on you.” My eyes trailed from her breasts, over her stomach, and down every inch of her legs. I wanted to peel the damn thing off her.

  “Thanks.” She adjusted her sunglasses.

  “Is that one of the room towels you’re using?” I pointed.

  “I-I didn’t bring my own towels.”

  “Damn it, Kaitlyn. There aren’t enough towels to use in the rooms and at the pool.” I slammed the basket into the hooks on the wall.

  “From the looks of it, you don’t have any guests other than me, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “That’s not the point,” I grumbled. “We have some reservations this week and I just bought those towels.”

  “You should have a sign or something. How was I supposed to know I couldn’t use the towels?” She leaned just forward enough that the straps slipped loose on the sides of her top.

  I had to get the hell out of here.

  “I’ll take care of it.” I pulled the pool gate behind me and headed to the office.

  I knew I was being a dick, but I couldn’t stop. It was safer to argue with her—to banter with her as if she was still the little sister interfering. Trying to ruin things.

  Ryan would always groan when we had to drop her off at a friend’s house, or worse—pick her up early before we were ready to leave.

  He made it known little sisters were a pain in the ass.

  I reminded myself that that was exactly what Kaitlyn was—a pain in my ass. And I wasn’t going to keep thirst after her tits, or her lush lips. I’d stop picturing her hips in my hands. I’d stop imaging her ragged breath in my ear when I made her come hard.

  Towels. I threw open the supply closet. She needed fucking towels. That was the mission.

  9

  Kaitlyn

  After three hours baking in the Texas coastal sun, I needed a break from the heat. I wrapped the forbidden towel around my chest and tucked the corner into the side. Luckily, Lisa had convinced me to buy flip-flops along with a pair of sandals. I slipped them on my feet and traipsed back to room twenty-three.

  I had forgotten how mad Cole was at the pool. It reminded me of high school. Ryan would get so pissed. Did he think of me the same way? Was there anything I could do about it?

  It was early afternoon and I had nothing else to do. No one to hang out with or commiserate with—I was utterly alone. Mary Ellen and the girls were probably floating down one of the lazy rivers in Myrtle Beach, flirting with cute boys and sippi
ng on fruity drinks. I didn’t want to think about what Branch and Miss Steal-My-Room were doing.

  I left another message with the airline. It was almost twenty-four hours since my luggage had gone missing, and I was beginning to think my calls and emails to the company were a lost cause.

  The shower in my bathroom at the Dune Scape was covered in blue and pink tiles—just one more leftover relic from when the motel was built in the 1950s. I reached for the faucet marked with an H for hot. Even though they were old, some of the features were cute and retro. They just needed some TLC. I hung my towel on the back of the door before I heard a knock at the door.

  I crossed the room and opened the door.

  “Towels?” Cole stood holding a stack of fluffy white towels.

  I stifled a giggle. It was obvious he was trying to balance the soft linens in his frame without touching them. He had new paint splatters on his arm.

  “I thought you said there weren’t enough towels to go around?” I put my hands on my hips, knowing full well he could see almost every square inch of my skin—almost.

  His eyes landed on the tops of my breasts, and I realized for the second time today how skimpy this suit was. Please, God, tell me he noticed.

  “I—uh—thought I wasn’t being the best host. Here. Plenty of towels.” He shoved the stack into my arms, and shifted his sunglasses to the top of his head.

  “This is too many. I don’t want you breaking any motel rules for me.” I chewed on my bottom lip, staring directly into the crystal blue eyes that caught me off guard every time I saw them.

  “You need towels, don’t you? Just take them.” It seemed like this was his way of a peace offering even if his delivery was a little off.

  “Thanks.” I held them in my arms, unsure what to say next. I searched for words, but couldn’t move past thanks. All of my banter melted under his stare. Damn him.

  “You need anything else?” His eyes locked on mine.

  I shook my head.