She returned the smile, albeit a bit tentatively for this was all virgin territory for her, and said, “All right then, let’s eat.”
* * *
HEATH SENSED HE’D scored a major victory between himself and Lora, but he wasn’t sure in which fight. He hadn’t told her about his relationship with food to elicit pity—not that she would give it—but he saw no value in shirking the truth. He loved food because as a kid he hadn’t had much of it. So, yeah, sharing a meal with Lora seemed the best way to offer a truce—and he wasn’t about to ruin his meal with awkward or angry silence. Besides, Lora was wound tighter than an islander’s braid and she could use a little loosening up.
After securing the boat and dropping the anchor, he went below deck and brought up the food he’d packed earlier. Sandwiches, fresh fruit and, of course, cold beer.
She accepted the beer with a small smile as if she wasn’t going to waste her breath denying that she actually enjoyed a beer and he swigged his own. Then, after a healthy bite of his sandwich, he sighed, happy with the moment. He purposefully chose to overlook the fact that she’d plainly threatened him with court and focused on how good it felt to simply live in the moment. He knew it wasn’t that cut-and-dry—that there was plenty that needed to be straightened out and addressed—but seeing as they couldn’t do anything on a boat, he let it go. He wished every moment could be this easy between them. The sun glinted off her dark hair, picking up threads of lighter brown that gave away her true color. At first glance it was easy to assume her hair was black because it was so dark, but in truth, Lora’s hair was a rich assortment of colors ranging from deep auburn to soft mocha. She’d always had glorious hair and that hadn’t changed. The long tendrils trailed in the wind, dancing on the mild air currents, and his heart spasmed, kicking up a beat. He returned to his sandwich, wishing he had the courage to finally do what he’d wanted to do so long ago and kiss her.
“Your job in Chicago, what exactly do you do? I know you’re in marketing but aside from that…what is that?” he said, hoping to derail his current train of thought before he did something stupid and uninvited. “Pops never really said, just that he was real proud of you.”
“If I were to boil it down in the simplest terms, I help create and maintain brands for multimillion-dollar corporations so they can make even more millions,” she answered, though her expression had clamped down, sealing off any hint of pride or joy. Curious. Something didn’t add up but she didn’t elaborate, and instead changed the subject. “Whatever happened to your parents?” she asked.
“They died of drug overdoses over in St. Thomas about five years ago. I got a call from the police saying they’d been identified after a raid on a known drug house. They’d been dead for at least a day but no one in the house had noticed because everyone else there was so drugged up,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact. Their deaths had never been painful because he’d lost them to drugs long before they’d died. In fact, he’d been relieved and he refused to feel bad about that. “But they left me the house and it was paid for, so at least I had a roof over my head.”
“I hadn’t heard anything about that,” she admitted.
“I didn’t see the point in telling anyone. It wasn’t as if they’d been in my life up to that point. They walked out on me when I was ten. Frankly, I was surprised they’d lasted that long. Their path had been decided long before that moment.”
His candor plainly shocked her but he’d long ago stopped questioning the why me aspect of his life. It is what it is, as he liked to say.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured, likely because that was the appropriate response to that sort of admission but he shrugged it away.
“Don’t be. Their dying was the best thing that ever happened to me.”
At that she looked horrified. “How can you say that?”
“Easily. Before you get your feathers ruffled, my parents were nothing like what you’ve known as parents. They were so deep in their addiction all they cared about was their next fix. They were crackheads. Plain and simple. And crackheads don’t feed their kids or care if they’re safe. And if you have the misfortune to get in the way of their drugs, you get this—” he paused to show her the long, faint scar running up his forearm “—for your troubles.”
She swallowed and appeared stricken by the sight of the scar his father had given him with a razor when Heath had mistakenly thought that if he simply threw away their drugs, they would get better. The naive ignorance of a seven-year-old. A mirthless chuckle escaped and he took another bite of his sandwich. “I know you lost your mom to cancer and that you loved her very much. Our situations are nothing alike.”
She processed his stark honesty and then said, “Well, I’m still sorry. Not that they died, but because no kid should live that way.”
“Agreed. Which is why when I have kids, I’m going to be the most hands-on dad on the planet. I’m going to be there for every event, every milestone, and I’m going to make sure that my kid never goes to bed hungry. That he or she never knows what it’s like to open the refrigerator and stare at nothing but moldy bread and an ancient bottle of mustard. My kid will always know he or she is loved because I’ll tell them every day of their lives.”
He might’ve shared too much, but it was something he felt very passionate about and she’d inadvertently triggered a sensitive spot. For a heart-stopping moment, he pictured little girls flocked around him who looked just like Lora with their long, streaming hair and varying shades of blue eyes. The fantasy squeezed his heart and made breathing difficult. He wanted Lora to be the mother of his children. He might as well wish for the moon. Neither was likely to happen.
“This is a very good sandwich,” she murmured, her voice catching as her gaze bounced away from his, confirming that he’d shared too much. “But it takes more than love and sandwiches to be a good father. You have to be able to provide for them, too. And sometimes that pressure can do things to a person’s convictions. Sometimes, it makes you forget all the promises you’d made in the beginning.”
* * *
HER OWN FATHER HAD BEEN charming, sweet and loving—until he left. And then she never saw him again.
“Kids are a huge responsibility and once the novelty wears off, some guys can’t handle the day-to-day and split, leaving the mothers to fend for themselves.”
“Yeah, but real men don’t do that,” he countered, his gaze dead serious. In that moment, she was certain he’d never abandon his children like her father had abandoned his. But hadn’t her own mother been certain she’d married and had kids with a solid man? It’s hard to know for sure when you’re in love. Those endorphins do kooky things to a person’s brain. She’d rather not risk it at all.
“A real man takes pride in his family and does everything in his power to protect them,” Heath continued.
“So they say,” she quipped lightly, ready to move on. This wasn’t a subject she felt comfortable discussing. “You never truly know another person’s character until they face adversity. A series of lost jobs, financial stress, trust issues…it’s a house of cards waiting to fall.”
“Was that what happened with your parents?” he asked, keying into what she hadn’t said.
“Yes,” she answered, then shrugged. “At least, that’s what I managed to glean from childhood memories. My dad split when I was nine and my mom died of cancer a year later. It wasn’t exactly a time of great sharing. But I remember the fights right before the big exit.”
“Is he still alive?” he asked.
“How should I know?” The bastard could rot for all she cared. “He hasn’t deigned to keep in touch and neither have I.” The subject of her father was an off-limits topic of conversation that she kept locked down and inaccessible. The fact that Heath had even managed to pry her lips open on the subject was surprising. She leaned back and closed her eyes,
hating how unsettled she felt. “Lilah had asked me to hire a private eye to find him but I didn’t feel it was necessary or healthy to start poking at that particular beehive. What if he’d started a new family? Frankly, I wouldn’t care but it would devastate Lilah. She’s fragile like that.”
“She’s stronger than you give her credit,” Heath said, causing her to snap open her eyes and stare. He shrugged as if he didn’t care that she hated when he openly disagreed about her family. It was her damn family, for crying out loud. “You can’t baby her one minute and then expect her to shoulder the load in the next. It’s not fair and it sets her up to fail.”
“Can you even stop yourself from picking a fight with me?” she asked wryly. “I think I know my sister better than you.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. You haven’t been around and when you were around, you were pretty wrapped up in your own world.”
She shifted in discomfort. Why’d he have to be so damn right all the time? “Next subject. Or else you might find yourself overboard.”
“Can you sail?”
“No.”
“Then I’m not worried.”
At that she laughed. He had a point. “So what are we going to do? We can’t talk about our pasts without stepping on something painful and best left forgotten, can’t talk about the present because there’s a whole lot of dangerous territory there, too. What does that leave us, aside from chitchatting about your culinary skills? I mean, don’t get me wrong, that was a pretty good sandwich but not so good that we can spend all day talking about it.”
“You can ask me anything. I will always be honest with you, even if it’s something you don’t want to hear.”
She regarded him with something akin to silent wonder. For someone who’d lived through a terrible childhood, he certainly didn’t let the scars show. She didn’t like to talk about her parents because it hurt to remember. By all accounts, Heath ought to shy away from the topic of his upbringing but he was offering to share if she chose to ask. She wanted to ask him if he’d ever had feelings for her. But the question stuck to the roof of her mouth, refusing to be asked. Was it fear that her sister had been wrong and that Heath had never felt anything for her? Why would she care either way? When she realized the moment had stretched too long, she forced a light smile and said, “If we’re taking a break from everything else today, let’s stick to that plan and make a pact to keep the questions to the superficial and polite. It’s a beautiful day and I’m going to take advantage of the sun. Do you happen to have some sunscreen I could use?”
Heath seemed disappointed, as if he’d wanted her to ask him something of substance, but he nodded and went below deck to grab the sunscreen. It gave her the time she needed to settle her nerves so Heath didn’t notice how her hands trembled.
He returned and hesitated. “Should I…?” he asked, gesturing to her back.
She paused, knowing that if she didn’t have protection on her back she’d fry like a doughnut in hot oil, but she wasn’t sure she wanted Heath’s hands on her skin. And not because she loathed the idea, but rather because she found the idea exciting and taboo. This burgeoning attraction to Heath was coming out sidewise, she thought irritably. If only she’d had a boyfriend in Chicago to keep her hormones in check. But it’d been a while since she spent some serious time with the opposite sex without business between them. She wasn’t sure she remembered the moves to that particular social dance.
“It’s just sunscreen, Lora,” Heath said wryly.
“I know that.” As if to illustrate that point, she nodded and presented her back. She could certainly handle Heath lathering a little cream on her back. It wasn’t as if one single touch was going to ignite a firestorm of unrestrained lust, she chuckled to herself. The very idea was preposterous.
At least that’s what she’d thought. The minute Heath’s hands slid over her shoulders, an unwanted tingle made her aware of their close proximity to one another. She clenched her teeth, determined to ignore the dangerous fluttering in her stomach that felt too much like the beginning of arousal for her comfort.
But his hands felt good. Much too good. Was that a moan that’d just popped from her mouth? Her bones were melting beneath his touch. Yes, it was most certainly a moan because another followed the first in quick succession.
She turned to say something—anything, who knows—but she was stopped short by the dark intensity in Heath’s eyes. Had anyone ever looked at her with such hunger? Such raw desire? Her breath tangled in a knot and she knew he was going to kiss her.
The question was…would she stop him?
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
POPS WANDERED INTO THE LOBBY and saw Lilah behind the reception desk. Lilah looked up and smiled when she saw him.
“Hey, Pops, what are you up to today?” she asked.
He grinned and hefted the drink in his hand. “Just doing what I do best… Have you seen your Grams? I need to talk to her about this situation with Heath and Lora.”
Lilah’s smile didn’t falter but inside she cried a little. Pops had always been her knight in shining armor. She didn’t remember enough about her biological father aside from snippets in her memory, so Pops had taken the place of a father figure. To watch him decline right before her eyes was a hardship that she wouldn’t wish on her worst enemy. But in spite of her pain, she played along for Pops’s sake and said, “I think she said something about needing to get supplies from St. Thomas. She said she’d be gone all day.”
“Dang that woman, I wish she would’ve told me. I could’ve gone with her. There’s a few things I need, too.”
“Well, maybe Heath could get what you need,” Lilah suggested. “Besides, I think there’s a small storm coming. You don’t want to be out there when it hits.”
“Yes, I suppose you’re right. I’ll have to ask Heath when he gets back,” Pops agreed, then he turned to Lilah, his expression troubled. “What happened to…” He paused, searching his memory with obvious difficulty. “You know, that girl…”
“Celly?” Lilah supplied. “Well, she’s working part-time so I could get some more experience behind the counter. Is that okay?”
Pops’s uncertainty faded away at Lilah’s admission and he beamed. He loved the idea that his sugar birds were becoming more involved with the resort and Lilah knew it would distract him. “I think that’s a great idea. How are you liking it? You picked a good time, too. Hurricane season is slower, less stress.”
“Yeah,” Lilah nodded, wondering how Pops could look every bit as normal as he ever was, but inside his brain was slowly dying and taking reality with it. Lilah drew a deep breath and smiled. “I love you, Pops.”
“I love you, too, sugar bird.”
She warmed, loving the little endearment. Everything seemed more precious now, more so than she’d ever realized.
“Where is Lora?” he asked, glancing around. “I haven’t seen her all day.”
“She went to find Heath. She seemed pretty mad. Like usual,” she added under her breath.
“Don’t be so hard on your sister,” he admonished, which to Lilah felt pretty absurd. Lora didn’t need anyone to defend her; Lora could take care of herself. “She’s under a lot of pressure. I don’t think she’s having a good go of it with that job of hers. She needs some island time to relax, soak up the sun and get back to basics. You can help her with that. You’ve always been able to go with the flow.”
“That’s about all I can do,” she said with a self-deprecating chuckle.
“Ah, sugar bird. It’s all going to work out,” he said as he caressed her cheek. She leaned into his soft, weathered touch and wished she shared his conviction. Of course he believed everything was going to work out. In his world, his wife hadn’t died a painful death and was simply on a shopping outing.
She pulled a
way but offered a brief smile. “Thanks, Pops.”
“You bet. Let me know when your Grams gets back, will ya?”
“Sure, Pops,” she promised, biting back a sigh. She couldn’t wait for Lindy to get here. She didn’t know how much more she could take without losing her sanity, too.
* * *
HEATH KNEW HE SHOULDN’T but if he was anything, he was an opportunist, and one thing life had taught him was that you took advantage of the moment because you never knew when it might come again. And frankly, even if he’d had the good judgment to pull away, his body simply wouldn’t let him.
This was the moment he’d dreamed about. Sure, the idea had faded over the years but it hadn’t taken long for the desire to kiss Lora to pulse to life. And it was damn torture trying to deny his feelings.
“Heath…”
The soft sound of his name on her lips, unsure and hesitant, broke through his haze and he stopped short of pressing his lips to hers. “Yeah?” he asked, almost painfully.
“I don’t think we should do this…”
He swore silently. Of course she was right, but he didn’t care about right. He wanted her so badly, his whole body shook with it.
He pulled back a fraction and he saw indecision in her eyes, which mollified him a bit. At least she was struggling with herself, too. He’d hate to think he was alone in this quagmire.
“We should address what’s happening between us and get it out of the way,” she suggested, and he wanted to snort in derision. His hormones were still kicking healthy doses of testosterone through his veins. Talking about how he wanted to strip her down and plunge inside her didn’t seem very helpful to him.
“I have a better idea,” he said. “Let’s just play it by ear and see what happens.”
At that her gaze narrowed and she actually pushed him away from her. “That’s exactly what I don’t want to do.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Do I look like the kind of woman who just goes with the moment?” she asked with obvious distaste. “Let me tell you where that kind of irresponsible behavior puts you. It puts you in bad situations where you end up used and abused and I’m never put in that situation. Ever.”
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