Feel the Heat: A Contemporary Romance Anthology (25 page)

She loved him. It was as simple as that.

Taking a step forward, she swallowed her wounded pride and approached him with her heart in her hands.

“I love you,” she whispered, silently wondering if anyone had ever sincerely offered him those words before.

* * *

R
ob’s head jerked up
, sure his ears had deceived him. Meg loved him?

Then he saw the same look in her eyes he’d come to covet the past few days. The look he considered more valuable than all his property, all his possessions, all his money. Love. Her lower lip trembled and he realized how much courage it must have taken for her to confess her feelings to him. Once again, he’d done nothing to deserve the trust she gave him.

Falling to his knees, he grasped her hands in his own. “I love you, Meg, and I’m so sorry. I promise if you’ll give me a second chance, there will never be anything, but total honesty between us.”

Her light laugh sounded like music to his ears as she knelt down to join him on the floor.

“Rob, I understand why you lied. There’s nothing to forgive. You gave me a wonderful gift this weekend. You gave me yourself, the true you. Your name doesn’t matter.”

“What about the money?”

“That doesn’t matter, either. It’s just paper. And that’s not what makes me love you. It’s you, the real you, that owns my heart.”

Laughing at her casual dismissal of his billions, he leaned toward her. “I’d give it all away to charity if it was the only way I could convince you to stay with me.”

“Stay?”

Rob’s grip on her hands tightened. “I don’t want just a weekend with you. I want us to work toward a lifetime. I want you to be my wife and I want you to have my babies. I want to put down roots and have a real home with you. Will you marry me?”

Tears formed on her lovely lashes and Meg nodded.

“Is that a yes, Margaret?” His familiar teasing tone returned.

Meg choked out a tearful laugh. “Yes,” she whispered.

Reaching out, he pulled her close to him, embracing her and his future.

R
ob looked
at his wife in the center of the circle of dancers. Loosening the bowtie of his tuxedo, he grinned. It was nice to see her having so much fun. What would his business associates say if they could see him right now? Rob was attending his very first high school prom because Meg insisted that he help her chaperone. She and her students had talked of nothing, but attending the school dance since the beginning of spring and finally, the big night had arrived.

Meg had gotten special permission to pick the kids up at their homes since transportation was a problem for some. He and his lovely teacher had spent two hours traveling from door to door, picking up each student in her class and posing for innumerable photos. When they at last arrived at the dance with their students who were dressed to the nines, it was not in a limo, but aboard a handicapped bus. Rob marveled at Meg’s boundless energy and enthusiasm. It was clear her students adored her and the feeling was mutual.

As the song ended, Meg made her way through the throng of teenagers smiling as she walked toward him. She was only beginning to show and he looked forward to the arrival of their first child—a little girl according to the sonogram—shortly before Valentine’s Day.

This year, he had so much to be thankful for. Meg had given him a place to call home. Her circle of friends had welcomed him with open arms and everyday was filled with the wonder of being a part of Meg’s world. They enjoyed sharing so many aspects of their lives with each other. While he introduced her to waterskiing, she fed him Kraft Macaroni and Cheese. He took her to her first red carpet movie premiere in New York and she took him to his first prom.

“Rob, you are such a trooper.” She reached for his hand.

“How so?”

“I don’t know many billionaires who would humor their wives by going to prom.”

“Haven’t you figured out I would go anywhere in the world, so long as I could be with you? I’m mad about you, Meg.”

“Oh,” she laughed, “You are getting so lucky tonight!”

Thank God,” he joked and there in front of the principal, her students, and the entire school, he kissed her.

A
New York Times
and USA TODAY bestseller, Mari Carr writes contemporary erotic romance novels.

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M
y brother is insane
.

Ava Jordan waited in line to have her passport stamped. A light breeze blew through the open walls of the Antigua airport, and she lifted her hair off her neck with one hand to take advantage of the cooler air.

Why couldn’t Seth and Kristin get married in Cancun, like normal Texans who want a destination beach wedding?

Maybe Ava would have been able to pay her own way, then. She wasn’t sure which was more embarrassing—having to tell her big brother that she couldn’t afford to go, or having his rich fiancée pay her way.

At least Cancun would have meant a shorter flight. Dallas to Puerto Rico had been rough, and even the comparatively short hop out to the island had unsettled Ava’s stomach, especially after the combination bachelor-bachelorette party for Seth and Kristin at the Chargrill the night before, back in Necessity, Texas.

I shouldn’t have stayed behind to help clean up.

For that matter, Ava probably should have taken the chance to be only a guest, instead of a waitress.

But working the party meant extra pay, and Mr. Tremont turned a blind eye when she joined her brother and his friends when they did tequila shots.

Most of his friends.

Pretty much everyone except the one friend who mattered—the best man, Grant Porter.

The short line moved forward and Ava stepped up to the wooden booth, handing her passport to the bored man checking it, glad to have a reason to quit thinking about the one friend of Seth’s that she least wanted to see—and the one she would be spending the most time with over the next few days.

* * *

M
oving
into the line to go through customs and enter the small island of Antigua, Grant caught a glimpse of the one woman he least wanted to see—Ava Jordan, the maid of honor in her brother’s wedding.

His best friend’s little sister.

The only woman who had ever touched his heart.

The one woman he couldn’t have.

He would have known her anywhere. She stood lifting her wavy brown hair off her neck, as he had seen her do hundreds of times before. Once, when they were kids, he had asked her why she didn’t just cut it off if it bothered her so much, and she had looked at him like he was crazy.

Maybe he was crazy.

He certainly wasn’t entirely balanced when it came to her, anyway.

Nope. He wasn’t insane. But he wasn’t going to try to talk to her right now, either.

Ducking out of line, he made a show of digging through his carry-on baggage to find his passport until Ava moved through the immigration line and took her stamped passport off into the rest of the airport, presumably to make her way to the resort hotel.

It could have been worse. He could have agreed to Seth’s plan for the four of them to fly together, and been stuck in an airplane seat next to her for the last nine hours.

Because that would be torture—the same kind that made him try to avoid her every time he ended up back home in Necessity.

The kind that made his heart race, and his entire body come to attention.

This time, though, there was no avoiding her—not once they all got settled at the hotel. He might not see her tonight, but he was going to have to figure out how to deal with her for the next several days as they helped Seth and Kristin prepare for what Grant hoped wouldn’t turn out to be the biggest bust of a wedding ever.

I take that back. I clearly must be insane.

“
T
he wedding coordinator
is looking for you.”

A shadow fell across her, and Ava dug her toes into the heated sand at the end of her beach chair, imagining the glittering particles falling across her bright pink toenails.

Twenty-four hours.

She’d had twenty-four glorious, sun-drenched hours, during which no one had asked her for anything.

In that entire time, she hadn’t had to fetch, carry, deliver, or clean a single item.

No dirty tables to wipe. No menus, sticky with children’s fingerprints rendered in honey and decorated with biscuit crumbs waiting for her to scrub them. No napkins to roll, no silverware to sort. No coffee mugs to top off or extra gravy orders to fill.

Not a single person had said “Excuse me, miss, but could you. …”

Until now.

She counted the seconds in her head, waiting for Grant to speak again. That’s how much longer she had until she was back on duty.

…
Eight. Nine. Ten.

Grant cleared his throat impatiently. “You awake?”

Finally, Ava cracked open one eye behind her sunglasses and peered up at her brother’s best friend. Best man, in just a few days. “Yeah,” she said. “Wedding coordinator. I’m on it.”

When she had agreed to be the only bridesmaid at her brother Seth’s wedding to Kristin Rittman, Ava had known it would come with some obligations, some of them not that different from her daily duties at the Chargrill back in Necessity, Texas. But in the end, she hadn’t been able to resist Seth—or his offer of a vacation in Antigua.

Not even after she discovered that Grant Porter was going to be the best man.

* * *

N
ot that Grant
being the best man should have come as any surprise, Ava reflected as she wrapped her batik cotton cover-up around herself sarong-style, self-consciously tucking the ends in around her waist, aware of Grant’s eyes on the expanse of skin between the makeshift skirt and her red bikini top.

It was ridiculous to be embarrassed around him. He had seen her in bathing suits every summer for most of her life, at the city pool, in friends’ backyards, at the lake the summer they all learned to water-ski.

Ava had yet to determine
why
it was different now that he had seen so much more of her than any bikini revealed, but she could feel him watching her as she trudged through the sparkling sand back up toward the resort.

Along the way, she paused to pet one of the ubiquitous black-and-white cats that seemed to populate the entire island. It bumped its head up against her hand and she pretended not to take the opportunity to glance sidelong at Grant, still standing where she had left him on the beach, staring her as she moved away. “Come find me at dinner,” she told the half-grown cat. “Maybe I’ll have food then.”

Grant Porter. The bane of my existence.

The thought was a little melodramatic, Ava knew. But it felt accurate at the moment, anyway.

If only his job as bearer of bad news had been the only reason for her to loathe him. That, she could probably have dealt with, eventually.

She even could have handled Grant kissing her at midnight one New Year’s Eve—and not even the friendly
you’re my best bud’s little sister so I should be killed for this peck on the cheek
kind of kiss, but the most passionate kiss Ava had ever experienced.

It was following up that kiss with the a night of amazing, mind-blowing sex, then going back to being as good as related themselves the very next morning business that was more than Ava was willing to handle.

It had been a year and a half since that asinine decision.

Asinine on his part.

The decision to return the kiss of the man she’d had a crush on for as long as she could remember? That part wasn’t asinine. At least, it hadn’t seemed it at the time.

In retrospect, following him without asking any questions as he led her to the bedroom had probably been a stupid move.

Well, she had learned her lesson. No more kisses for Grant Porter. In fact, she hardly even spoke to him at all. He could just keep his kisses to himself.

Not to mention the rest of it.

She shook the thought off and headed up the winding path to the covered verandah that served as bar, restaurant, and nightclub, depending on the time of day. At the moment, one of its tables was serving as the workspace for the resort’s wedding planner, who sat alone in the space with three-ring binders all around her, a computer tablet in hand.

Ava waited for her to finish making a note and tried not to let anxiety overcome her.

Before Kristin and Seth had decided to elope to Antigua, their wedding had been the event of the season—such as the season was in a dusty little town like Necessity, Texas.

“But that,” Seth said when Ava teased him about it, “is the price you pay if marry into the Rittman family.” His adoring glance at his fiancée took any sting out of the words.

Then Kristin’s uncle, Duke Rittman, had been arrested for attempted murder after he sabotaged a gas well tank on his land so it exploded when the petroleum company owner was present. The scandal had turned Necessity society (again, such as it was) upside down.

Kristin had gone from being the belle of the town to being a pariah, almost overnight. Most of her friends had deserted her. And she and Seth had decided to cancel the big wedding at the First Baptist Church of Necessity and run away to the West Indies to get married.

So here I am, the last bridesmaid standing.

Finally, the wedding coordinator finished what she was doing and glanced up, her dark eyes assessing Ava swiftly. “Ah, hello. You must be”—she checked the paperwork in front of her—“Ava, with the Rittman wedding?”

Her voice was clear and cultured, almost British-sounding, with the soft lilt of the island Creole underscoring it.

“Yes. I’m Ava Jordan.” To her own ears, Ava sounded too harsh. Too country, too twangy—too Texas.

“Rose Caba.” The coordinator half-stood to shake Ava’s hand, then waved her to a seat at the same table. “I assume Kristin has told you about the problem with the dresses?”

Ava’s stomach clenched. “No,” she said slowly. “I haven’t actually seen Kristin since I got here last night.”

“Ah. Well. The bride’s dress arrived just fine. Kristin had it in a dress bag on the plane with her.”

Ava took a breath. It could be worse.

“Your dress, on the other hand, was apparently lost in transit.”

But not much worse.

“You mean I’m going to have to find another dress?” Ava’s voice came out in a strangled whisper.

Finding the perfect bridesmaid’s dress for this wedding had been a nightmare. Ava had assumed, when Kristin had invited her to go dress shopping, that they would find something simple and beach-wedding appropriate and be done.

No such luck.

It was as if, having had the wedding of her former dreams cancelled, Kristin had focused all her bridezilla tendencies on finding the perfect bridesmaid’s dress for Ava.

Rose’s dark, perfectly manicured eyebrows drew down into a frown. “I assure you, St. John’s has a number of lovely bridal shops. I work with several of them on a regular basis.”

“I’m sure,” Ava said faintly.

“Or I could arrange to have a selection of dresses brought here.”

Ava couldn’t decide which sounded worse—spending her vacation days trudging all over the island with Kristin, going from bridal shop to bridal shop in search of the perfect dress, again, or being trapped in the hotel with Kristin as a series of imperfect dresses were paraded past them.

“I guess…” She hesitated. “I guess we should ask Kristin what she wants us to do.” Merely saying the words hurt. No matter what Kristin chose, it was going to be an awful experience.

“I think you and Grant should go pick something out.” Kristin spoke from behind her, and Ava spun around, startled.

Dress shopping with Grant? That was a type of awful she hadn’t expected.

As usual, Ava’s future sister-in-law looked perfect. She wore her long, blonde hair slicked back into a high ponytail that swung halfway down her back. On Ava, a ponytail like that would look adolescent.

On Kristin, it looked elegant, swinging around her like something out of a shampoo commercial as she turned to glance back at Seth and Grant, who trailed behind her. “Don’t you agree?” she asked her fiancé. “That way, Grant can get a matching tie. And we can go pick up the wedding license in St. John’s. We can make an afternoon of it.”

So much for an afternoon on the beach. I knew that countdown was to the end of my freedom during this trip.

She swept Ava up into a hug, enveloping her in a cloud of coconut-scented fragrance.

Island appropriate. Of course.

Ava suddenly became aware of her own chemical aroma of sunscreen.

With a slight eau de sweat.

Nope. Neiman Marcus would never carry that perfume.

“I’m so glad you’re here to deal with these things,” Kristin said. “You know what I like by now. You will take care of it, won’t you?” Without actually waiting for an answer, Kristin dove in for a hug from Rose. “I just saw the gazebo. It’s perfect, absolutely amazing.”

Ava glanced at her brother, hoping he might jump in and rescue her, but Seth was watching Kristin, a besotted grin on his face.

When she flicked her gaze toward Grant, she found him staring at her intently.

You can do this
, she admonished herself sternly. After all, it was just one trip.

One shopping trip. One wedding. One week.

If I can deal with the dinner rush on Saturday half-price chicken fried steak night, I can deal with anything.

Time to suck it up, buttercup.

Still, the gleam in Grant’s eyes made her nervous.