Barefoot in the Sand (12 page)

“That’s how you see me?”

“That’s how…” His words faded as he touched the
picture, his long, lean finger following the lines of her body, the effect as thrilling as if he were touching her skin.

“Yes?” she prompted.

“You know how some people draw from memory? Or maybe they use an object to copy? I draw from my imagination or, rather, my fantasy.” His finger lingered on the two-dimensional drawing of her breast.

“That’s quite a talent.” Which might be the understatement of the century. “How did you do that?”

“I draw moments that I’d like to see. That’s how I design buildings, something I’d like to walk out on the street and see. This villa”—he gestured toward the structure in the sketch—“is something I’d like to walk onto the beach and see.”

“Is there a villa in this picture?” she joked. “I can’t get past the naked lady.”

He laughed. “Look at the building, Lacey. Really. What does it remind you of?”

She studied the villa for a few seconds, then it hit her. “
Casablanca
.”

“I was inspired when I watched the movie last night.”

“You watched it last night?” That gave her a little jolt as sexual as his drawing of her.

“When I came home from the bar, I found it on the Internet and watched the whole thing. I still think the wrong guy gets the girl,” he said quickly, “But it totally inspired me for your property. What do you think?”

“I love the shape and design of that villa.” She’d never seen anything like it, certainly not on Mimosa Key and maybe not in Florida. Instead of the standard Palladian windows and faux Spanish style, this was earthier, cozier.

“I kind of see an all-Morocco-themed architecture,”
he said, excitement making him talk a little faster and get a little closer. “White stucco walls and dark wood floors, the curved windows and low-slung archways. I know it’s different, but the buildings are made for intense heat, so it would really fit in around here.”

He was right. God, he was a genius.

“Kind of a waterfront paradise without the tacky, typical, tropical feel,” she said, tearing her attention from the page to look at its creator. “I love it, Clay.”

He beamed a smile at her. “I even have a name for it.”

“I was going to keep Blue Horizon House as, you know, an homage to my grandparents.”

“And I’m sure they’d love that, but we’re not building an assisted-living facility, Strawberry.” He was so close their faces almost touched, but neither made a move to back away.

She laughed softly. “So what are
we
building, Clay?”

“You already said it. Casablanca. But I suggest two words. Casa Blanca.”

“Spanish for ‘white house.’ ” She sighed, closing her eyes, leaning her head back just to let the beauty of the idea wash over her. “That’s perfect.”

And so was the kiss he placed on her mouth.

The pressure of his lips was so soft at first that she wasn’t sure if the kiss was really happening. Her eyes fluttered open as a breath flickered between their mouths. He slid a hand around her neck, his fingers delving into her hair again. His other hand cupped her jaw and held her face just to make the angles of their lips fit perfectly.

A soft moan escaped her throat as she opened her mouth to him, letting their tongues dance at first, then coil more comfortably, then slide against each other. Lifting
her hands to his shoulders, she pulled him closer and made absolutely no effort to stop. It felt too good.

She kept her eyes closed and he kissed her cheek, like a little finishing touch on something that was already flawless.

“You like my ideas, don’t you?” he whispered into her mouth.

Oh, she liked more than his ideas. “I like your hands.”

That made him chuckle and tunnel deeper into her hair. “How they draw?”

“How they…” She closed her eyes and let her forehead fall against his, their noses lined up, their mouths close enough for him to feel the warmth of her breath. “Feel.”

He kissed her again, getting their bodies closer on the picnic table, building heat that could rival the tropical air around them. Cicadas buzzed and waves lapped, but all Lacey could hear was the thrum of sex and desire shooting off to every nerve in her body—and the intrusive vibration of her cell phone. The interruption jerked them apart.

“I bet it’s Ashley,” she said. “She’s with my friends and was supposed to call when they’re five minutes away.”

“Oh, there go all my skinny-dipping plans.” He kissed her again, longer, open mouthed, pulling her closer to him on the tabletop. “I was really starting to like this job interview.”

“I was really starting to forget this
was
a job interview.”

He backed away, holding her face tenderly. “Ms. Armstrong, can we please make this official?”

A crazy thrill electrified her, the question so like a proposal. His eyes were sincere, his mouth still parted from the last kiss, a lock of his hair falling over a brow and making her brush it away.

“I have to think about it,” she said.
A lot. For hours
.
Like all she wanted to think about was him and this and Casa Blanca. “How about I tell you tonight?

He just kissed her again, another clash of tongues, until the phone vibrated one more time. She broke away and pulled it out to read the text.

“They’re on their way.”

He dragged his hands down her bare arms, letting his fingers brush the sides of her breasts. Like he’d touched a magic switch, her nipples budded through the cotton. “Then I’ll see you tonight. I think we should watch
Casablanca
.”

She laughed softly. “You watched it last night.”

“It inspired me.” He kissed her mouth. Her nose. Her forehead. “Who knows what could happen if we watched it together?”

Uh, she knew exactly what would happen.

“I’ll call you tonight, okay?” he whispered. “We can watch at my place.”

Yep. They both knew where this was headed.

“Oh, I forgot.” He tore off the picture and handed it to her. “Here’s my resume.”

She laughed softly, the drawing stealing her attention again. Good heavens, could she do this? Could she let him have the job, talk her into a resort much bigger than anything she’d imagined, and also—

He started to laugh.

“What’s funny?” she asked.

“I can see you rooting around for some reason to say no and you can’t find one.”

It was true. He was right. “Call me around seven and we’ll see if I found a reason to say no.”

“Don’t look too hard. This is right, and you know it.”

She just sat there holding his “resume” until she heard his truck rumble away, taking all her excuses with it.

“Mom!”

Lacey jumped off the picnic table, completely unaware how long she’d been sitting there mooning over Clay Walker.

Long enough for the girls to arrive in two cars, which meant they’d brought Jocelyn, who could practically read minds and body language. Would they notice that the “job interview” had shifted into a little make-out session?

Ashley didn’t need to know the details, but she’d tell the girls everything about Clay, from his fabulous ideas to his even more fabulous kisses. This new development was too much fun not to share.

“We got you a bathing suit!” Climbing out of the van, Ashley held a colorful shopping bag in the air. With the other hand she lifted her T-shirt. “I got one, too! It’s a push-up!”

Oh.
Thanks, Zoe
.

Behind her, Tessa and Jocelyn hoisted a Styrofoam cooler and Zoe jumped out with arms full of towels and two beach umbrellas.

“You bought me a bikini?”

“You’re going to hate it,” Tessa predicted.

“She’s going to love it.” Zoe dropped the umbrellas on the sand.

Lacey looked to Jocelyn for the tie-breaker. She just shrugged. “It was two against two. Zoe’s exuberance won, as usual.”

Ashley shoved the bag at Lacey. “Don’t worry, Mom, yours isn’t a push-up.”

“A minor miracle.” She didn’t know whether to laugh
or throw the bag at Zoe, who pushed her sunglasses into her hair so Lacey could get a good look at her why-the-hell-not expression.

“For God’s sake, Lacey, you’re in your mid-thirties and you are not a nun.”

No kidding.
You should have seen me ten minutes ago
. “Yeah, but you know how I feel about my boobs. They’re too big.”

“Your boobs are gorgeous. Own them.” Zoe trotted off toward the beach without waiting for a response.

Her boobs
were
gorgeous… the way Clay Walker drew them.

“Oh, Mom, you’ll love it,” Ashley insisted. “Aunt Jocelyn bought us all new suits and, oh my God, they all cost—”

Jocelyn slammed her hand over Ashley’s mouth. “Not important.”

“Jocelyn,” Lacey said, shaking her head. “That wasn’t necessary.”

“Expediency is very valuable.”

“Expediency?” She must have wanted to avoid south Mimosa Key.

“I couldn’t wait to get to the beach. Where should we put this?”

“Let’s go down by the water.” Lacey took in their haul. “God, look at all this stuff. What, no blow-up tubes and rafts?”

“They’re in the car,” Zoe said on her way back up from testing the water. “Don’t worry; we didn’t forget sunscreen. Walgreens had everything the Ritz didn’t.”

Ashley ripped off her T-shirt to expose a minuscule lime green halter bikini with plenty of padding, and tore off for the gentle swells of the Gulf.

“My suit better be bigger than that,” Lacey said to Zoe.

“Not much,” Zoe replied. Then she leaned in to whisper, “How’d it go with the big stud? That’s an architectural term, you know.”

“Really good. We made so much progress.”

“Really?”

“He has all these amazing ideas, I mean you can’t believe his vision for this place. So, so much bigger than anything I’ve ever dreamed of.”

Tessa and Jocelyn came closer, carrying a cooler between them. “Really? Like what?”

“Like villas! Individual, adorable villas. And the style! So beautiful, all Moroccan and
Casablanca-
inspired.”

“Ooooh,” Jocelyn cooed. “Your favorite movie.”

“I know, right? We’re going to watch it tonight for more inspiration.”

Zoe choked softly. “Is that what you kids are calling it these days? Hah.” She turned to the water and reached out her arms. “Here I come, ocean!”

“It’s the Gulf!” Lacey called to her, getting a “whatever” wave in response.

Jocelyn looked skyward. “Ignore her. If you want to meet with him tonight…” She frowned at Lacey. “She’s right, isn’t she?”

Lacey couldn’t hide the smile. “I gotta say, there is some smokin’-hot chemistry between us.”

“That could complicate things,” Tessa said.

“It already has,” Lacey agreed. “But you know what else? He wants to do the work for free. So he can… What?”

“For free?” Jocelyn almost choked. “Why would he do that?”

“He needs the creds. And with his ideas, I need to save
money. I can’t afford what he wants, but, oh, God, I want to. I’ll tell you all about it later. How’s Ashley been?”

“She’s fine,” Tessa said. “Just a little cell-phone-aholic.”

“She is that,” Lacey agreed. “Sorry. I’ll talk to her about it.”

“You might have to talk to her about more than that,” Jocelyn said as they walked across the sand.

“What do you mean?”

“She thinks you’re going to get back together with David.”

Jocelyn’s words brought Lacey to a dead stop. “
What?
”

“It’s true,” Tessa said. “I drove over here with her and she dropped enough hints that I am certain she thinks this storm is bringing him home.”

“Home?” Lacey had to laugh. “He’s been here one time, when she was a year old. Twice if you count meeting my parents when we were dating. Mimosa Key has never been his home. And you know that man couldn’t be less interested in being a father.” She heard her voice rise and didn’t care. “And just for the record, I couldn’t be less interested in ever seeing him again.”

“Shhh. Don’t let her hear you,” Jocelyn said, giving up the cooler to put her hands on Lacey’s shoulders.

“But doesn’t she know that he’s had every opportunity to visit and has done nothing but send money?” Little bits of anger and resentment, sharp as nails, pressed against the inside of her chest. How long had Ashley been harboring these ideas? “What started this, the hurricane? Having her home blown away? Facing death at a young age?”

“Maybe all of those things, but…” Jocelyn shook her head. “My guess is it’s a pretty natural thing for a fourteen-year-old to have Daddy fantasies.”

Daddy fantasies? “Whoa, those are worse than the fantasies I’ve been having all day.”

“She’s not happy about you lusting after the architect, either,” Tessa added.

“I’m not.” She closed her eyes, not about to lie to her best friends. “Okay, I’m lusting. I mean, like whoa and damn, yes, he’s so freaking hot I could jump his holy bones. But—”