Boyfriend for Hire: A Stand-Alone Contemporary Romance (Escort Files Book 1) (15 page)

“That’s not what I hired you for. Well, not the only thing,” Amy said, implying that he surely got hired to do the same. And she was right.

He nodded and watched her for her reaction when he said, “And I’m hired for that too, though we’re only paid for our time, as you know. Most of the time it’s a one-time deal. A dare, a divorce…something like that. But not always. There are a few women I see regularly and there’s definitely sex, but it is not like with you. You have to understand that there is a difference.”

Mike knew Amy’s expressions well already and in her small sigh and drawn brow, he saw a little pain. He hated to be the cause of it, but without knowing the truth, it would grow and stay raw. This was ripping the bandage off quickly and even though it sucked, it was better than the alternative.

Amy seemed to have a thought and asked, “Can you tell me about some of them? No names or details, really, just…I don’t know…tell me.”

Mike kept his clients’ confidentiality without fail. He was discreet and was paid to be so. This was different, so he said, “Okay, but please don’t ask too much more. They deserve their privacy. Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

“Well, one of my regulars…and I don’t have that many of those…is divorced and has kids. She says she doesn’t want to confuse her kids by dating. I get that.”

Amy looked out to sea for a moment, clearly going over the angles of that in her mind, and then nodded. “Okay, I get that too. That one is for sex, I’m assuming.” At his nod, she said, “Tell me about one that isn’t.”

“Well, we go to the movies and then to a diner to talk about it. It varies how often because it depends on what movies come out.”

Amy seemed surprised. “Movies? Why?”

Mike felt very uncomfortable talking about any client, but this one also made him sad. “Her husband got injured in the war.” He tapped his head to indicate where. “They used to go see scifi movies and then to a diner to talk about it. He can’t do that anymore. She’s not crazy. I don’t have to pretend I’m him or anything like that. I think she just misses that time with him. She hugs me when we’re done and that’s pretty much it.”

“That’s so sad,” Amy said, her eyes shining. “How horrible.”

He nodded, “That’s the sort of thing that escorts really do more often than not. A lot of them call for sex, yes, but a lot of them don’t. It’s not like you see on TV.”

“But you still have sex with women for money,” she said.

“I do. No, I did. Not anymore.”

“You’re going to quit, just like that? You can’t do that. That’s your job, how you pay your bills. I can’t be responsible for that,” Amy said, letting go of his hands.

Mike leaned forward and took her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him. “I can do that and you’re not responsible…well, you are, but not that way.” He smiled and kissed her lightly on the lips. “I’ll go back to grafting rootstock and tending trees. The pay sucks, but it’s honest work. I’ll figure out the rest.”

How he would figure out the rest remained to be seen. It wasn’t just the land that needed to be paid for, there were the taxes too. And it wasn’t like he could just go and replant trees and be in the black. There were no producing trees left. He’d planted some, but he was installing root drip systems as he did, and that was expensive. He was years away from harvesting a salable crop. And since he wasn’t there to tend the trees, he couldn’t plant more. The part time man who came and tended the young trees was more than he could afford as it was.

But he would figure it out. Even if he had to sell, he would. It was hard to go back there and see the scorched blocks that were all that was left of the house he grew up in, to know what had happened there while he was camping with friends and having too much beer up north. His parents were gone and he was the last living co-owner, which made it his responsibility, but it didn’t mean he was chained to it forever.

The land was changing there, the long drought easing some, but sure to come again. Eventually, all the tree farmers there would have to start making decisions. Already groves were being bulldozed and planted in drought tolerant native plants. If this meant it was time for him to sell, then maybe it was simply for the best.

It would hurt though. No question.

It would also hurt to lose Amy and she wasn’t a tree that could be replanted with a new one. She was unique, a one-shot deal. She was worth it. His parents had loved to tell the story of how they met and that each had known the other was meant for them from the first hand-shake at a county agricultural fair.

Mike believed in love at first sight because his parents were examples of how lasting that could be. He just never thought it would happen to him. And it hadn’t…not really…because this wasn’t love yet, but it was going that direction and it was going there fast.

Totally worth it.

He waited for her answer, for her to decide, trying to keep calm and simply let her think. She gazed out to sea for a while, her hands in the sand and her fingers churning the fine grains as she thought. At last, she whipped off her shirt and tossed it down to the sand. She wiggled out of her shorts and then stood, pulling the butt of her swimsuit down with a snap.

She held out her hand to him and said, “Well, if we’re both jobless vagabonds now, then we should probably practice being beach bums.”

It was the best thing she could have possibly said to him.

Twenty-Four

Amy’s head had cleared by the time they made their way over the beach toward the hotel. Lunch was well underway and her stomach was growling after a morning of swimming and playing in the surf. It seemed so easy when she was out there, but there was a lot of physical effort involved in staying upright in a moving ocean.

Mike pressed his free hand to his washboard stomach as they walked and said, “My stomach is sucking in on my backbone, I’m so hungry.”

“Ditto,” she agreed. “I could eat a horse. Well, not literally.”

He laughed and tugged her closer, making their hips bump as she swerved his way. He let go of her hand only so that he could slide his arm around her waist and kiss the top of her head. She felt good like this, natural and at ease. When had that happened? When had that tense woman who was always thinking about everything been replaced by this?

It was good, though. Really good.

They ate far more than it seemed like they should, but the day attendant at the podium merely winked at them when they surfed the buffet for a second plate. She liked him for that.

As Mike finished the last bite of food on his plate, he sighed and patted his belly, leaning back in the chair like an old man who just had his fill. She laughed and said, “Me too.”

He grinned, then wiggled a little in his seat and said, “I’ve got sand in places that should not have sand.”

“Again, me too,” she said, laughing harder.

He looked around, then said, “Want to head up to my room? Shower only, I promise.” Then he wagged his eyebrows at her and added, “Unless you’re up for something more, that is.”

“If you keep this up, I’ll be walking like a cowboy.” She emphasized the comment by sticking her elbows out and rolling in her seat in an excellent imitation.

“Gotcha,” he said, and rose from his seat, quickly stepping over so he could pull her chair for her.

His room was nice. Not like the cottage, but very spacious and cleanly tropical. A yoga mat emblazoned with the resort’s name was rolled out on the floor and clothes were scattered on the bed. He swept up the mess of t-shirts and said, “I had a little trouble deciding what to wear.”

Pointing at the mat, she asked, “You like yoga?”

He nodded, rolling the edge of the mat up with his foot like someone who did that a lot. “I do. I’m very bad at it though. Any time I go to classes, they’re always correcting something. But, I like it anyway.”

He bustled about, pulling out another pair of those delightfully normal underwear and a pair of shorts. From the pile of tees, he pulled out an aqua green one. Amy plopped onto the bed and watched him as he did his thing. His dark hair was a hot mess after their swim, the slight waves disobedient with only the wind to dry them. It looked fantastic on him.

Turning on the shower, he popped back out of the bathroom and tossed his shirt at her. She caught it and then sucked in a sharp breath when he yanked down his shorts and swimsuit in one motion, kicking them aside. Even as she let her eyes travel the length of his body, his cock bounced a little as it came to life.

He put a hand over it, pushing it down and said, “Unless you’ve changed your mind.”

Oh, she wanted to change her mind alright, but the irritating sand in her swimsuit made it clear that she wouldn’t enjoy the friction at the moment. Even so, she got up and dropped the shirt, pushing away his hand so she could cup him the way he’d done her. He was warm and growing hard under her palm, the force of it pushing her hand away from him.

“Maybe later,” she said and squeezed a little. Then she let him go and smacked his ass with a sharp noise.

He
eeped
and jumped an inch, then grinned at her and grabbed her butt, pulling her to him tightly, pressing her against his length. He leaned down to bite her ear and said, “Aren’t we frisky? I might just have to make you pay for that later.”

She shivered and waved her hands like she was trying to surface from deep water. “Good grief. Go bathe! You’re killing me over here.”

His chuckle was low and very full of promise, but he let her go and asked, “You sure you don’t want to come in with me? I’ll be good. I’ll just wash you really,
really
well.”

“Nah. I don’t want to put on sandy clothes again.” She looked at the clock on the bedside table and said, “And we’ve got to hustle if we’re going to see the ruins before it gets dark.”

They’d heard about some ruins of an old sugar mill that didn’t require a lot of hiking to get to. She could probably do something easy wearing just sneakers, but her feet were still bruised and sore, so this seemed ideal.

That said, it wasn’t well lit and they needed to be in and out before dark began to fall, and it was already past one. The days here in the tropics weren’t actually very long, more like spring back in North Carolina. It seemed odd, but it made sense when she considered how much closer they were to the equator where the day and night cycle was more equal.

Mike hummed as he showered and Amy did her best not to look too closely at his things. Of course she was curious, but she was also respectful of his privacy. His phone gave a low buzz, and then sounded out a “doomsday” tune like in the horror movies right before something hideous happened. She scrambled across the bed and grabbed it, hopping up to bring it to him when she saw the identity assigned to the number.

Work
. That was all it said, but it was enough. She swallowed and stepped into the bathroom, holding out the phone, “Your phone is ringing.”

His head popped out of the shower, his hair full of shampoo suds. He frowned when he heard the tone. Taking the phone, he stabbed the button and then stepped out of the shower, putting a sudsy hand on her forearm to stop her when she tried to leave and give him privacy.

Holding up a finger for her to wait, he said, “Hello.”

He had it on speaker, so Amy pressed her lips together and crossed her arms. She did not want to hear whatever was going to happen next.

“Hey Blake, this is Missy. I’ve got two things for you. First, how is everything going? You didn’t check in yesterday.”

Amy felt her face flush at the idea of him checking in each day while he was with her. What did he say when he did?

“I’m fine,” he said, then quickly broke in when the girl on the line started to speak again. “I’m really fine and I’m also quitting. So, I quit.”

There was silence on the line for a long moment, then Missy asked, “Is everything really okay?”

“Absolutely,” he said. “I’m just quitting.”

Again, there was silence for a moment, then she said, “Ah, okay. I…uh…are you quitting right this minute?”

“I am,” Mike said, standing there and dripping water and shampoo all over the bathroom rug. It was actually really cute and Amy wanted to give a fist pump and start high fiving him.

“That’s too bad. I actually just got you a tentative booking right there at the resort. New client from Virginia who’s there. So weird, but she said she met you and wanted to book you. I thought you must have given her our number or something.”

Mike eyes widened and he stared at Amy.
Holy fuck.

She mouthed, “That woman!”

He nodded at her, horrified. His lips pursed and his whole body tensed. “No. She’s a frigging drunk and I have no idea how she found out where I worked…or even that I worked. If she did this, then she’s scary too. She’s been stalking me around the place and embarrassing my client.”

Missy drew in a breath so loud that Amy could hear it over the phone. “Woah, not good. I’ll blackball her and tell her no. Is she why you’re quitting?”

“No, not really. It’s complicated.” He paused, looking at Amy like he had an idea, then said, “But you need to refund my client. This sort of crap is unacceptable.”

“Uh, well,” Missy started then trailed off.

“Okay, just refund her my portion then. It’s not cool. Gives us a bad rep.”

“If you’re sure?”

“I am. Gotta go. Take me off the books.”

“I will,” Missy said, her voice hesitant. “Whatever it is, I hope it’s a good thing.”

He smiled at Amy and said, “It is.”

Handing her the now soapy phone, he grew serious again, which was a hard thing for a man covered in shampoo to pull off believably. “I can’t believe this.”

Amy frowned and said, “Oh, I can.”

“How did she even figure it out? I mean, we’re a thousand miles away. How would she even know where to look?”

Amy shook her head, trying to imagine what she would do if she was intent on finding someone like that. “Well, we’re registered under our real names and my address in Raleigh is on the reservations. How many agencies…uh…you know,
your
kind of agencies…are there in the area?”