Barefoot Bay: The Billionaire's Convenient Secret (Kindle Worlds Novella) (7 page)

When she moved to excuse herself for a moment, he slid to his feet with the grace and speed of a deer. Returning a few minutes later, she arrived at the table in time to see him slip two crisp hundred-dollar bills under his dessert plate. Staggered by the amount, she shook her head. He was a strange man, Josh was. Whether he footed the entire bill or not, he’d pulled out all the stops.

Once again, she wondered if she’d underestimated him in some way. But no.
The proof is in the pudding
, her grandmother used to say, and there was no changing the facts. Josh loved his job at the Super Min and aspired to farm. Either was enough to get his name scratched off her Mr. Potentially Right list. Taken together, he shouldn’t even rate a second glance.

Still, she couldn’t deny how much she enjoyed his company. He’d been an attentive host, gracious beyond what she’d expected, far more sophisticated than she’d ever dreamed. When he offered to walk her to her villa, she readily accepted. The heady scents of mimosa and night-blooming jasmine followed them up the steps to her door, where she wavered, an invitation to come in for a nightcap on the tip of her tongue.

“You sure you won’t change your mind about tomorrow? We can see the sights, stop for lunch at a place only the locals know about. It won’t be anything like dinner tonight, but their margaritas are the best you’ve ever tasted.”

Reason dictated that she hunker down with her phone and her laptop. If she put her mind to it, she could finalize Favor’s purchase of at least two more mini-marts this weekend. Besides, she should stay as far away from Josh as possible. They wanted different things out of life, had different goals, different aspirations. The smartest thing she could do—for both their sakes—was to say good night and never see him again. But that meant never seeing the golden flecks dance in his dark eyes, never learning if his perfect lips were as kissable as they looked.

Smartness was overrated, she decided. She scuffed one sandal against the wooden deck that surrounded the villa.

“What time will you pick me up?” she whispered.

“You’ll come. I was hoping you’d say that.” Josh edged closer, ever closer, until all she could see was the creamy linen that hugged his wide shoulders and fell loosely over his narrow waist. The space between them filled with an earthy cedar scent she knew she’d always associate with him. A fine tremble passed through her. She licked her lips and tipped her head. His eyes pinned hers, and her breath caught.

Her focus shifted, sliding down to his mouth, his jaw. Slowly, he lowered his perfect lips to hers while she rose on tiptoe to meet him, unable to wait, eager to touch, to taste. The moment his lips brushed hers, she gasped as a burst of white-hot heat rushed through her. His tongue teased, but she didn’t need to reconsider. She pressed more deeply into the kiss, drinking in the lingering scent of wine on his breath, the faintest hint of vanilla left over from the crème brûlée he’d had for dessert. Gently at first, he explored her mouth. Their tongues touched and retreated, circled and swirled, their movement picking up speed as they found and adapted to each other’s rhythm in a dance as timeless as the earth.

The urge to have more of him grew until he slipped one arm around her waist and drew her ever closer. She snuggled into the embrace, one hand tracing the outline of Josh’s thick shoulder muscles, the fingers of the other threaded in his dark hair. Air hissed from her lips when he skimmed the outer edges of her breast with his fingers before ending the kiss as slowly as he’d begun.

“That was…” He paused as if words had failed him.

Scary as hell. A huge mistake. Never going to happen again.

“Amazing,” he finished.

She nodded blindly, wanting to do it again. Wanting, more than anything, to invite him inside for another one of those incredible kisses and to see where it led.

They sprang apart when footsteps sounded on the path coming from the beach. Josh moved closer as the burly figure of a man rounded the corner of the deck.

“Casa Blanca Security, ma’am, sir,” came a voice out of the dark. “Sorry for the interruption. I’ll be on my way.”

“Miles? Is that you?”

Josh’s voice focused her gaze on the uniformed man who’d stepped out of the shadows and into the spill of light around her doorway.

“Josh?” Surprise sent the guard’s voice higher. “Hey, man. Guess they’ll let just about anyone into Casa Blanca these days.” He double-timed it up the steps and onto the deck.

“Guess so if they have you guarding the joint.” Josh turned to her. “Charlie, this Miles. Miles, Charlie. Miles is an old friend and, all kidding aside, about as fine a security specialist as you’ll ever find.”

“Nice to meet you,” she managed, struggling to maintain her focus, which had strayed to the possessive hand Josh had slipped around her waist.

Backing away slowly, Miles tipped his cap. “Sorry for the interruption. I’ll let you two get back to…whatever.” He skirted past. “I’ll call you later in the week. We’ll knock back a couple of brews like old times. Give your aunt Charity my best.”

The hand around her waist stiffened. In the dark, Charlie felt her eyes widen as her stomach rode the express elevator to the basement while the guard’s footsteps faded into the distance. “Josh…” Her whisper barely rose above the sound of the distant surf. She wet her lips and tried again. “Josh, what did he mean by that? Is Charity Grambling your aunt?”

The hand at her waist slipped away. “Yes,” came the curt reply that threatened to nip their relationship off at the roots. “I didn’t tell you because—”

“You were using me to get information? A bargaining ploy?” Even as she said the words, she didn’t believe them. Josh wasn’t like the men she dealt with in the office day in and day out. He was different. Open and honest. He’d never deceive her, would he?

“Maybe at first. But that ended five minutes into our first conversation. To tell you the truth, I didn’t tell you because I thought you’d look down your nose at a thirty-two-year-old who still works for his aunt.”

“I’d never…” Her mind crashed into truth’s brick wall. The fact was, he was right. She’d already stretched her rule against dating co-workers to the breaking point just by meeting Josh for a drink. If she’d known he was Charity Grambling’s nephew, she’d never have agreed to see him. “I’m sorry, but I wouldn’t have gone out with you if I’d known.” She took a breath and rubbed her temples. “And that would have been a damn shame. ’Cause you’re one of the smartest, warmest, nicest guys I’ve ever met.”

“Plus, I’m a darned good kisser,” he said, his deep, rumbly voice sending a shiver straight down her spine.

“That, too,” she agreed. She laughed then, glad she’d taken a chance on him. “If you still want me to, I’d love to see the island with you tomorrow.”

In answer, Josh brushed a kiss over her forehead and stepped away. “I’ll pick you up at nine thirty?”

“Yeah, sure,” she answered, her thoughts drifting to the incredible kiss she wished had gone on all night. “That’ll be fine.”

Still rattled, she fumbled her key in the lock. At last, the door opened, and she all but stumbled into the villa. Closing the door behind her, she pressed her head against the cool, hard wood.

Josh had an amazing knack for making her forget her own rules. She had a strict policy against dating anyone associated with work. She’d crossed that line by accepting Josh’s invitation to have drinks at Junonia. That was bad enough, but she’d compounded the problem by agreeing to join him for dinner. Discovering that he was Charity Grambling’s nephew had given her the perfect opportunity to break things off with him. Yet, she hadn’t taken it. Instead, she’d agreed to see him again.

What am I thinking?

She’d promised to tour the island with Josh tomorrow, and she’d keep her word. Maybe she’d even enjoy another one of his amazing kisses. Two at the most. But that was it. No matter how hard she felt herself falling for him, no matter how much her heart fluttered whenever Josh was in the room, their relationship couldn’t go one step further. Because she absolutely, positively was not going to get involved with a man who was content to spend his life behind a cash register. Or one whose long-term goal was to dig in the dirt.

And with that, she headed toward the sumptuous bedroom at the end of the hall, barely aware that, as she walked, she traced her fingers across traitorous lips that still longed for Josh’s touch.

Chapter Three

In the Super Min’s cramped back office, Josh scrolled through the property descriptions his real estate agent had provided. Bringing up an app on his iPad, he immediately ruled out three parcels of vacant land that were either too large or two small. The directions for the rest, he sent to his cell phone. Rising, he grabbed several sheets from the printer, folded them and stuck them in his back pocket while he swept a glance over his aunt’s desk. Yesterday’s receipts had been tallied and filed, orders for new supplies placed, the payroll handled. He was good to go.

He stepped from the office, his nose wrinkling pleasurably at the odor of fresh-brewed coffee. Across the aisle, the beverage dispenser worked overtime, ice cubes thundering into cups, a rush of soda quickly following as men and women from a landscaping company grabbed drinks and snacks. The day manager stacked cases of beer around a new display. Cellophane and paper rattled at the cash register where Aunt Charity’s most recent social project was hard at work totaling up sales and bagging purchases. From the little Josh had heard about the clerk, the kid’s story was much like his own—the son of an over-burdened single mom who’d spent far too much time on his own until Charity got wind of the situation and brought him into the Super Min’s fold.

“I’m heading out, Toby.” Josh skirted the short line of customers at the checkout to reach the peanuts that simmered in an oversize Crock-Pot. He dipped a generous portion into a plastic container. “I’ll likely be gone for the rest of the day. You doing okay here?”

With a ready smile, the eighteen-year-old eyed the bustling lines at the gas station. Typical for a Friday, cars crowded the gas pumps. The bell over the door tinkled as a fresh onslaught of weekend visitors headed for the coolers in the back of the store. “We’ll be fine, Mr. Josh. If we have any problems, we have your phone number.”

“Good man, Toby.” Josh clamped a hand on the shoulder of the straight-A student who, with a little help from McLean Enterprises, would start working his way through college in the fall. He paused. “As far as you know, business is good?”

“Busier than ever.” The teen wrestled bags of chips and a loaf of bread into paper sacks. “Ms. Charity hired two more people to handle all the extra work. They start soon as she gets home from her cruise.”

More confused than ever, Josh ran his fingers through his hair. It made no sense at all for his aunt to add people to the payroll if she was selling the company. Yet, Charlie had insisted she’d all but signed a contract. Tucking the container of peanuts under one arm, he headed for the door. His departure was delayed by several customers who stopped to say hello, but he still slowed to a stop in front of Casa Blanca’s main building just as Charlie emerged from the lobby doors. Throwing the car into park, he whistled, long, low and under his breath.

In response to the rising temperatures, Charlie had pulled her hair into a ponytail that showed off her elegant neck. His pulse leaped as he took in the loose coral top that ended above a pair of barely there shorts. Below them, long, lean legs stretched for miles to a pair of casual sandals.

He groaned. Keeping his hands to himself would be the challenge of the day and, suspecting he’d fail miserably, he swallowed. To distract himself, he forced his gaze upward until it snagged on the tiny studs that sparkled in Charlie’s ears. An image of her draped in diamonds and pearls—and little else—flashed through his mind. No wonder men all over the world spent their hard-earned money on trinkets in little blue boxes.

“Good morning.” He stepped eagerly from his aunt’s car and waved aside an equally enthusiastic valet. Hustling to open Charlie’s door, he tsked when the passenger door screeched like a hyena. He practically felt color rush into his face and stopped to rethink his strategy. What was he thinking, driving around in this old wreck when his date deserved the best money could buy? Unable to change the plan at this late date, he swallowed again and reached for the bulging bag that hung from Charlie’s shoulder.

“How’d you sleep?” he asked, choosing a safe topic.

“Like a baby.”

She tilted her head to his, her rosy lips curving into a smile that sent his thoughts straight into her bedroom. Before he knew what was happening, he’d zeroed in on the night he wanted to spend with her, a night where there’d be very little sleeping at all. His grip on the door handle tightened along with the rest of him. He searched her face, wondering if the same desire shimmered in the green eyes hidden behind dark glasses.

Apparently not, he thought when her smile remained cool and impersonal.

He exhaled slowly when Charlie slid onto the seat.

“What?” He’d lost track of the conversation.

“I said I slept like a baby. I’ve never had a room so close to the ocean before. The sound of the waves put me right out. How ’bout you?” Charlie buckled her seat belt.

“Fine. Just fine,” he lied. Bothered by concerns for his aunt, he’d checked the clock every five minutes until three, when he guessed he’d finally drifted into a restless sleep. A few hours later, he’d woken—hard and aching—from a dream about Charlie. He hefted the beach bag he’d slipped from her shoulder without realizing it. “What do you have in here, rocks?” he joked, placing the bag on the floor behind her seat.

“Nothing so mundane.” Charlie grinned. “I ordered a few snacks from room service and added a couple of bottles of water.”

“Like minds,” he noted. “I brought wine and crackers and a surprise for later.”

“Will I like it?” She smiled up at him.

“You’ll have to wait and see.” Tempted to open the peanuts and feed them to her one by one, he backed away slowly. After retracing his steps around the car, he climbed in beside her. A sultry, floral scent filled the small space. He drew in a deep breath and savored it.

“I don’t think we’re in any danger of going hungry,” she said, aiming a thumb at the boxes and bags that crowded the backseat while Josh waited for guests in a golf cart to roll past before he put the car in gear. “Are you expecting Armageddon while we’re out? Or is there something else I should know about you?”

“I’ve given strict orders that the aliens cannot attack today and ruin our time together.” He relaxed at the sound of her quiet laughter. After a minute, he added, “I need to make a few deliveries while we’re out.” He hesitated. “You don’t mind, do you?” Tension rolled off his shoulders when his date gave the idea two thumbs up. He cleared his throat as she crossed her legs. “The agent sent over a list of places I want to check out. I thought we’d start out at the far end of the island and work our way back.”

“Sounds good.” Adjusting her sunglasses, she angled her body toward his. “What exactly are you looking for?”

Josh steered them through the gates of Casa Blanca. “I’m thinking about four, maybe five, acres to start. More if I get a good deal.” He’d need a third to a half of an acre for the store itself, the rest for a small vineyard.

“What about a house?”

“Nah.” He signaled for a turn toward the south end of the island. “I’m not planning to live there.”

“Tell me you don’t live with your mother.” Mock horror filled Charlie’s face. She held the look for a long second before she laughed.

“What if I did? Would that be a deal breaker?” he teased, wanting to string her along.

“Hmmm, it might be.” Charlie tapped one manicured finger against her chin as though weighing his answer.

“In that case, you can relax,” he said, glad he could put her qualms at ease. “My mom’s enjoying the good life in Key Biscayne these days. I have my own place.”

Several of them, in fact. Not that he intended to tell Charlie about everywhere he laid his head at night. He made it a policy to keep the details of his private life private. At least, he did until there was a real possibility he’d found
the one
. Which hadn’t ever happened. Not yet anyway. If and when it did, he’d open up every aspect of his life. From his primary residence—a converted loft in Atlanta—to the cabin in Vail. From the cottage in Napa Valley to the fully staffed lodge in the heart of France’s wine-growing country.

The traffic ahead cleared, giving him a chance to glance at Charlie. She struck him as open and aboveboard, but there was a lot he didn’t know about her. He intended to use their time together today to fill in some of the blanks.

“So, a Columbia grad, huh?” He steered around a slow-moving vehicle in the right lane. “What made you choose accounting?”

“Planning ahead,” she said, skimming her hand over her ponytail. “We didn’t have much when I was growing up. I knew if I wanted to better myself, I had to learn as much as I could about money—how to earn it, manage it, invest it. So, one day, I could provide for my own family.” She recrossed her slender legs. “What about you? Have you ever wanted to go to college? Maybe do something besides work at the Super Min?”

His smile thinned. The conversation had ventured into treacherous territory. As guilty as he felt about it, he couldn’t tell Charlie everything about himself and still help his aunt save her business. Besides, he wanted to get to know Charlie better, and to do that, he had to keep his true identity under wraps for a little while longer. “I’ve always been a whiz at numbers,” he said, opting for an abbreviated version of the truth. His affinity for math had served him well in opening The Grape and establishing it as a national chain. Now, though, managing the overall business with an eye toward the big picture kept him too busy to handle the day-to-day details. For those, he turned to people he could trust.

“You have reached your destination,” his cell phone chirped, saving him from the need to say more. He pulled to the curb and stopped the car.

“Are you sure we’re in the right place?” Charlie leaned forward, the sun reflecting off her sunglasses as she peered through the windshield.

Josh stared straight ahead, his eyes narrowing. Following the prompts from his phone’s map app, he’d threaded his way through a crowded housing development to a vacant cul-de-sac. In the distance, makeshift soccer goals stood on either side of an immense field of sandspurs. He shifted, pulling up the list of properties on his phone.

“This is the address. But that”—he nodded toward a dust devil that swirled over the arid soil—“that’s sure not what I was picturing. I can see why the price is so reasonable.” When Charlie reached for her handle, he made a snap decision. “Don’t bother. This won’t work for me.” He didn’t need an ag degree to look at the property and know grapes would never thrive in the sandy soil.

“You’re sure?” Revealing doubt-filled green eyes, Charlie propped her sunglasses on the top of her head. “Some people would look at land like this and only see opportunity. They’d bring in truckloads of top soil, spread a ton or two of manure over the top and hope for the best.”

Certain she was talking about her dad, he chose his next words carefully. “I admire dreamers. They make the world a more interesting place. This particular piece of land, though—it isn’t suitable. There’s no water source. No drainage.” Lightening his tone, he pointed to toys that littered a nearby yard. “If, by some miracle, I did manage to raise a few grapes, the kids around here would strip the vines clean before I could harvest them.”

Someone else, someone who wasn’t quite as attuned to the beautiful woman sitting beside him, might have missed the clarity that came into her eyes, the slight easing of tension around her lips, the softening of her shoulders. He spotted it, though, and leaned toward her. Planting a kiss on Charlie’s nose, he gave her ponytail a quick tug. “Don’t worry. We still have two more places to see. Besides, whether we find a good spot or not, I’m glad we’re spending the day together.”

Her soft, “Me, too,” sent a warm shiver racing through his chest while the, “What’s next?” she added as she slid her sunglasses back into place kept him from doing something rash, like pulling her into his arms and never letting go. Instead, he started the car and headed on down the road.

“As long as we’re in the area, I need to drop some stuff off at Mrs. Yoder’s.” The elderly shut-in had called an order into the Super Min that morning.

“Door-to-door delivery?” Charlie’s eyebrows rose while questions formed in her green eyes. “That’s a service you don’t find every day.”

“It’s all part of living on Mimosa Key,” he explained. “People here look after their own. It’s something that stems from hurricane season. After a big storm, it might take days for help to arrive from the mainland, so we check on one another. The men break out chain saws and clear downed limbs off houses and roads. That feeling of camaraderie carries over to everyday life. There’s only one grocery store at the south end of the island. When one of us is incapacitated or simply can’t drive anymore, we make sure they don’t go without.”

“You really are one of the good guys, aren’t you?” The questions in Charlie’s eyes faded as she dazzled him with a smile. “Do you need a hand?”

“I’ve got it,” he said, halting the car in front of a well-kept house in the working-class neighborhood. “This shouldn’t take too long.” He consulted his list before he retrieved two large bags from the backseat.

“I’ll check my email while I wait.” Charlie pulled her phone from her purse.

He left her scrolling through messages while he strode up the walkway. At the door to the modest home, he waited, listening through the screened door to the soft scrape-bump of a walker accompanied by a quiet shuffle of elderly feet.