by Shayla Black
“Morning,” she murmurs, voice husky.
Just like that, I’m hard again.
I clear my throat. “Morning. I found some food and coffee at the main house.”
She moans, something between acknowledgment and pleasure, then hides a lazy yawn behind her hand. “Thank you. That’s really sweet. Would you mind grabbing my robe off the back of the bathroom door?”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to remind her that I’ve already seen it all, but if that makes her feel comfortable, I’ll do it.
“Sure.” I grab the pale blue satin garment and hand it to her.
“Thanks.”
“Want me to pour you some java?”
“Please. Can you add a splash of cream from the fridge and a stevia packet from the cabinet to the left?”
“You got it.”
By the time I’ve done that, Bethany rounds the corner to claim her steaming mug, robe securely belted around her small waist…which only accentuates the fact she’s not wearing a bra. I can see the points of her nipples. I remember what they felt like, tasted like. I remember how she responds to my touch.
She clutches the mug, blowing on her brew to cool it, not quite meeting my gaze.
I swallow down a scalding sip of my own and try not to seduce her, at least not before caffeine.
With a sigh, I set my java aside and grab her by the waist. “Come here.”
Bethany is stiff until I nestle her against me and press a gentle kiss to her lips. Finally, she blinks up at me. “You make good coffee.”
“You make good everything else. Last night was…” I grin at her. “Let’s just say I wanted to blow your doors off, but I’m the one dazzled.” When she blushes, I can’t help but laugh. “We’re good together. How are you feeling about it?”
She frowns. “You actually want to talk about this?”
“You don’t?”
“I guess we could. It’s just that I expected…”
“What? For me to roll you on your back and do you again without saying a word? Or for you to wake and find me gone because I decided to skip out?”
“Either.”
I can only imagine she expects that because someone taught her to. “Was Dalton the morning-after jackass?”
“He was one of them.” She nibbles on her lip nervously, gaze not wavering from the brew in her mug. “But he was the one who hurt the most.”
I tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Want to tell me about him?”
She shakes her head. “He’s not important.”
“I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable, Beth. But I need to know what you want to happen between us next.”
“I don’t know.”
“Now that we’ve had a night of fun, are you having thoughts about kicking me to the curb?”
“I wouldn’t have said yes in the first place if I didn’t like you enough to want more than a hookup. But I don’t have any expectations,” she’s quick to assure me. “I just appreciate you being so…kind.”
I’m not following. “Kind?”
A soft blush stains her cheeks. “Caring about my pleasure. I’ve only had that once before, and even then—”
“Seriously?”
“That’s weird to you, huh? Sex was just never that important. Now I see the big deal.” She gives me a nervous laugh.
It’s shocking to hear Beth confirm the suspicions I had last night. It blows my mind that a woman as gorgeous and responsive in bed as Bethany has only had one sexual partner before me who gave a shit about her pleasure. I’m not going to ask if she’s picked up all her exes at Douchebags R Us. And I’m not listening to that voice in the back of my head—the one that sounds a lot like Bret’s—telling me I shouldn’t be giving her orgasms now. Because what really matters is what happens next.
“It was a big deal for me, too.” And while I’m being honest, I might as well admit something else. “It felt special.”
In fact, I’m not only relieved that I need to spend more time with her to find out what she knows about the Reed Financial scheme, I want to spend time with her. If she were any other woman, I’d already be thinking this relationship might turn serious.
Instead of smiling, she nods pensively. “It’s almost too bad we can’t have more than sex.”
Frowning, I sit and pull her onto my lap. “Why can’t we?”
“Like I’ve said, there’s a lot going on in my life. I don’t know how long I’ll be on the island. Or how long you’ll be here, for that matter. Still…” She squirms. “It’s only fair of me to tell you that…I’m not exactly who you think I am.”
I try to act completely casual, as if I’m not thrilled she might be on the verge of admitting something useful. “What do you mean? You’re not Beth?”
“You’ve heard my family call me Bethany.”
“Yeah, I figured you liked using your nickname at work or something.”
“It’s…more complicated than that.” She presses her lips together. “Remember I told you that my dad and I aren’t speaking, that our relationship is messed up?”
“Yeah.”
“He’s done some illegal things and he’s probably going to prison for a long time. Before you ask, yes, I’m shocked and I’m saddened. But all this has put me in a really awkward position. People who knew and trusted me have turned on me. Even those I’ve worked with for years suddenly seem to have their pitchforks in hand, and they’re coming after me.”
“Guilt by association?”
“Pretty much. The guy in the loud Hawaiian shirt who keeps hounding me? He’s a former client. I’ve known him for a decade.”
The asshole’s behavior makes more sense now, but it’s still not okay. He doesn’t get to verbally or physically harass Bethany for answers.
Is what you’re doing any better?
I shove aside the nagging voice. “What does he think you can tell him? Do you actually know anything about what your dad was busted for?”
She sighs and rises, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation. “I can’t really talk about it.”
I try to tamp down my disappointment. It was unrealistic to hope that after one night she was going to spill all her secrets. But I want like hell to end this subterfuge, tell her who I am, admit my unexpected feelings so we can move past this. Maybe she cares enough about us to stay with me.
“I’d like to help you, but I can’t if I don’t understand.”
“I appreciate that, but there’s nothing you can do now. I just thought you should know I’m kind of off-balance and I have been since my professional life fell apart. I’ll figure it out, but everything happened so recently. It’s been a lot.”
“Off-balance in what way?”
“Men who once worked around or under me used to call me ballbuster and ice queen and all the other unflattering, misogynistic terms for a smart, confident female. That’s how I see myself. This shy, stuttering, uncertain person you know? I’m not her.”
That explains the hints of assertiveness she showed me last night. And I feel good about that because she wouldn’t have demanded anything she wanted sexually if she didn’t feel comfortable with me. “I think you’re awesome, even if you are feeling a little uncertain right now. If you ever want to talk, I’ll listen and help you however I can.”
Bethany smiles gently. “Thanks. I just wanted you to understand. I should also tell you that I might have to leave suddenly.”
That makes me panic. “Leave?”
“I’ll be called to testify, but I have no idea when. It could be next week or two years from now.”
“As a witness for the prosecution? Or the defense?”
“Either. Both.” She shrugs. “Anything is possible. Can we change the subject?”
I grasp all her reasons for being secretive, but I can’t stay in limbo. I need answers. I’ll need to deal with Bret’s shit soon. I also need to get back to my life. I’d like to stop lying to Bethany. And I’m going to have to deal with the unexpected
attachment I’m feeling to her somehow.
“Sure. Just…if you leave, don’t forget me.” I caress her face. “I’m not going to forget you anytime soon.”
“Believe me, I won’t.” She bites her lip, this time to suppress a smile. “You have another condom, right?”
Despite all the problems, I grin. “Yes, ma’am. I do.”
“And we don’t have to be to work until four this afternoon.”
“Yes, ma’am, that’s right.” I clasp her hips and drag her closer.
“I promised I’d help Britta’s mom serve breakfast for the inn’s guests, but I’ve got an hour or so. What do you say we put that condom to good use?”
I love the way she flirts—and lets me part her robe to see all her naked skin underneath gleaming in the morning sun. “I always like to make a lady happy…”
After breakfast in bed that was way more bed than breakfast, I leave Bethany’s ohana with a big smile on my face. Unfortunately, during the drive back to Ash’s place for a shower and a change of clothes, reality intrudes.
Bethany is slowly opening up to me, but at this rate it might be weeks or months before she divulges everything. I don’t have that long. Sure, Howie, who’s running my business back home, is reliable and capable. But I’ll have to return to North Dakota and oversee operations again soon, or the reputation of the oil services business I’ve spent more than five years building will all swirl down the toilet.
That means I need to start digging around to see if I can uncover any dirt myself.
From the console of Ash’s crappy sedan, I grab my phone. While I’m idling at a stoplight, I scroll through the device until I find the picture I took of the card I uncovered in Bethany’s wallet. Trying not to register the tremor in my hands, I dial the FBI agent’s digits. I’m almost positive I’m going to get voice mail.
Trevor Forsythe answers on the first ring. “Hello?”
“Agent Forsythe, my name is Clinton Holmes. My father was one of the victims of the Reed Financial fiasco.”
He pauses. “I’m listening.”
“I’m calling for some information. I know Barclay Reed was arrested and is currently out on bail…”
“Yes.”
“I read an official statement a few weeks back that you’ve arrested all suspects in the case. Is that still true? Do you have any additional suspects you’re now pursuing?”
As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I wince. This guy doesn’t know me at all. He can’t even verify that I am who I say I am. He’s not going to tell me a fucking thing.
“I’m not at liberty to discuss this case beyond the statements we’ve already issued.”
Of course not. “Look, my father only ever had contact with Reed’s daughter, Bethany Banks. I understand she was his right hand for a decade. She kept a full list of clients and supposedly managed their money, yet all their funds—in addition to those of Reed’s own clients—disappeared. I watched my father fucking die of a heart attack the day he realized all his money was gone…” My voice is getting louder, and have to choke back the desperation in my tone. “Sorry. I’m personally impacted by this case, so I’m trying to understand her involvement and if there have been any inroads in recovering the money. And I’d like to see all the perpetrators brought to justice.”
Getting Dad’s savings back would at least be a consolation prize. But I’m far more focused on Barclay Reed—and anyone else responsible—going to prison.
“I’m not at liberty to discuss that either, sir. Parts of the investigation are still ongoing.”
“But you’ve already determined Ms. Banks is innocent?”
“Mr. Holmes, I really can’t say anything beyond the statement we’ve already issued that indicates Ms. Banks won’t be charged with a crime. When the case goes to trial, the prosecution will lay out its case. Then you and the rest of the public will hear the details. Until then, I’m afraid I can’t offer you any other information.”
“But—”
“No. You want answers. I don’t blame you. But I have a lot of victims to look out for,” he points out. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
The line goes dead.
With a snarl, I smash the button on my phone and resist the urge to hurl it into the windshield. I don’t need another goddamn dead end.
The next twenty minutes of traffic, coupled with an impromptu rain shower, don’t brighten my mood. Sure, I had a great night with Bethany. I’d like to have more. But I’d like to do it with a clear fucking conscience. I don’t know how or if I can make that happen.
I shove the key in the lock, surprised to find Ash standing in the kitchen, chowing down on some Cheerios.
“Hey! Have a good night?” he asks with a waggle of his brows. “Since you didn’t come home, I figured something good happened.”
I pocket my phone, rake a hand through my mussed hair, and intentionally ignore his question. “I didn’t expect you to be here.”
“After work last night, Montana and I came here for a while. But early this morning, we decided that we’ve scratched our mutual itch, so she left about seven, waved sayonara…and we’re done.”
“You cool with that?”
“Yeah. She was fun, but there was nothing else between us.”
I get that. “You know Samantha likes you, right?”
Ash looks surprised. “Why would you think that?”
“Are you kidding? Every time you left with Montana, she gave you longing looks as you two walked away.”
“Huh. I totally missed that. I must be off my game.” He shakes his head. “But now that I know… She’s cute, not my usual. I might be interested. So what’s going on with you and Beth?”
With a frustrated huff, I plop down on the cheap living room sofa. “Dude, I don’t even know. I’m being pulled in so many different directions… What if she’s guilty? What if she’s not?”
“None of that would matter if you didn’t like her.”
I nod. “I more than like her. I think there’s something real between us. As much as I’ve fought it…”
“You didn’t expect to give a shit about the enemy.”
“Yeah, and she’s not at all what I expected. Besides being fucking sexy, she seems really sweet.”
“Got any ideas what to do next?”
“Keep searching for information wherever I can, I guess. But it looks like I have to be patient until something gives.”
I hate this plan, especially since I worry what Bret will do. He’s not going to let our fight this morning go. And what happens if Bethany finds out I’ve been less than honest? She’s been burned. She finds it hard to trust. She’ll hate me if she learns the truth before I’m ready to tell her.
“Wish I had something brilliant to say, but you’re right,” Ash says.
I nod. “Maybe day drinking is the answer. Vodka is sounding wise right about now.”
He barks out a laugh. “I don’t know, man… I’ve asked tequila for advice, and when I’ve listened, it’s been shitty.”
“Good point.”
With that, Ash tosses on a clean tank, says he’s out to the gym, then disappears. I spend most of the day either Googling, napping, or pondering. Finally, it’s time to head to the bar. After a quick text to Bethany, she assures me that Griff is giving her a ride to work since he’s already headed in that direction. I arrive a few minutes before our shift. Despite all the doubt and uncertainty, the anticipation of seeing her again is way stronger. Excitement tightens my gut.
Right or wrong, I want to be near this woman. I want to see her smile. Hell, I want to give her reasons to smile—and not just for the sex, though that’s amazing, too. I want her to smile because she’s with me.
God, I have it bad.
When I duck into the bar, I expect to see Bethany setting her purse down, grabbing a tray, and wiping tables clean as she gets ready for what’s sure to be another busy night of tourists partying their way through a holiday week in paradise. Yesterday’s hangover
s are a memory now, and a lot of these visitors know they only have another day or two here, so they’re likely planning to make the most of them.
What I don’t expect to see is Bethany sitting in the quietest corner of the place, holding hands with a stranger.
I stop. Stare. Scowl.
Who the fuck is he?
“That’s a development I didn’t see coming,” Ash mutters in my ear.
A million things run through my head. Bethany said she wasn’t into relationships right now. She said she’d only had one decent sexual experience in her life, so the odds of her reconnecting with an ex seem slim. I’ve already met all her siblings. Even if I hadn’t, these two aren’t looking at one another like family.
What pisses me off even more? She’s crying.
Clenching my fists, I charge toward the far end of the bar.
Ash grabs my arm and holds me back. “Don’t march over there and throw around accusations. It won’t end well.”
“Who is this fucker? Why is she letting him touch her?” I hiss. “And why the hell is he upsetting her?”
“I don’t know, but you need to calm down. Did Beth promise you exclusivity?”
“No, but—”
“Then there is no but. You two spent a night together. That’s it. That entitles you to nothing.”
He’s right, but that only pisses me off more. “I can’t let him upset her.”
Or put his hands on her.
“I get that. So why don’t you make your way over there and ask in a friendly-like way if everything is all right. Anything else is likely to sound like an accusation and upset her more.”
“Fine.” I jerk my arm free and suck in seething breaths, trying to calm myself as I head closer.
It’s a long twenty seconds, and they seem so wrapped up in their conversation—and each other—that neither even looks my way.
Until I clear my throat.
Bethany blinks up, spots me, and jerks her hands from the other man’s. She looks pale. Though she’s wiped away her tears, I still see the hint of wetness on her cheeks.
Whatever the fuck is happening, I feel like ripping this dude’s head off.
