Making Waves (Mythological Lovers) (7 page)

With our employee ID badges in hand, we meandered through aisles at one of the island’s shopping centers. On his resort, Teo was practically king of his own empire — giving his tourists and employees access to restaurants of varying price, shopping centers, and even a solar-powered electric rail system for transportation. Whenever we tired of his beach paradise, we took the scheduled ferry boat to the mainland.

“Yeah, well, things fell through,” I grumbled. Plucking a box of chocolates from the shelf, I added it to my basket. “He served me breakfast then took off.”

“Wait. He?” Julia peered over. Both friends stared me down with matching expressions of disbelief. “You didn’t say your plans involved a guy!”

“Doesn’t matter now, he’s busy today and it was dumb to assume he’d want to hang out.” After a peek at my thighs, I put the chocolates back on the shelf. Julia tucked it into my basket again with a second box.

“You spent all night bouncing on some man. You need this for your strength. No wonder you’re dragging ass all over like you didn’t sleep.”

Another customer at the end of the aisle glanced at us. The gray-haired old woman quickly scurried to the next row. Heat flooded to my cheeks as I turned to swat my friend. “Can’t you lower your voice, megaphone mouth?”

“Sorry, chica. Anyway, tell us about this guy and his breakfast skills.” Julia looked far from apologetic.

“I’m not giving you details. Suffice to say, we had a good time and he fries up a great plate of bacon and eggs. I woke up to him cooking in the buff and then he shooed me back to bed so he could bring a tray in. Orchid, linen napkin, and all that fancy stuff like you see in movies.”

“Wait, wait, wait. You’re saying this guy brought you breakfast in bed, naked I might add, and a flower too?” Pam asked.

“Yeah, he did.” I still didn’t know where the hell he’d gotten a flower while naked. My neighbors must have gotten quite the show.

“And he spent all night banging you like a pair of bongos?” Julia asked.

“Yeah.”

“But was there in the morning still to make you this breakfast in bed,” Pam clarified.

“I just said yes.”

“He likes you. Why are you freaking out?”

“I dunno, I just...” I shrugged, at a loss.
How do I explain the irrational jealousy?
“He was all keen to rush away for lessons and stuff and I guess I expected him to have the weekend off like I do.”

“It’s Dante, isn’t it?” Pam blurted out.

“No!” I lied through my teeth, denying it too quickly.

“Oh my God, it is. You slept with Dante, you little heifer. How was it?”

“I knew you two were gonna do it eventually,” Julia said. “This doesn’t surprise me at all.”

I sighed and twirled a few strands of red hair around my index finger. “It was incredible, but I thought we’d spend the entire weekend together, you know? Why book lessons in advance if he knew we were gonna—” I stopped, abruptly halting myself.

“Wait. If he knew you were gonna...?”

“Go out,” I offered up in a quick cover. If anyone would understand my decision to have a baby for Dante, it would be Julia and Pam. Only a few months ago, they’d decided to undergo sperm donation and save money to raise a child of their own.

“He’s a man, hon. We already established they’re not the best planners,” Pam said. “Besides, you two have been dancing around each other for years. It’s about time you both took the plunge.”

If only they knew how deep.
I forced a smile and pushed my uneasiness aside. “You’re right. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“I knew you two were meant for each other ever since the first time he fawned over you and your mutant lungs,” Julia said.

I laughed quietly. “I don’t have mutant lungs. Holding my breath for a long time isn’t anything special.”

We finished our shopping and decided to follow the beach route back toward our residences. Crowds were thinner in spring than during the summer, but everything was open, including our favorite little fish hut. Dante’s grandfather fished every morning and served up his daily catch.

“Afternoon, Abuelo,” we all greeted in unison.

“Buenas tardes, señoritas,” he offered in return, a perpetual smile on his aging face. I was glad to see him on his feet again working the stall — it wasn’t the same without him on the beach.

Our matching orders of fish and plantain chips arrived within ten minutes. The perfect amount of sweetness, spice, and chili dust warmed my mouth when I took the first bite of deep-fried goodness. Abuelo refused to share his secret batter recipe, no matter how many times I begged or tried to bribe him with candies.

When I found him over the winter, he made me promise to keep it to myself. I helped the old man to the ferry, then we drove to the nearest hospital. He hadn’t wanted anyone to know he was ill.

I’d visited him every day, wondering why he didn’t phone relatives or even call Dante. Now I knew why. Cell phone reception wouldn’t reach the ocean floor.

“Gracias,” I chirped to him. I leaned forward and kissed his cheek. Abuelo would be missed one day, not only for his fish, but for his sense of humor and terrible jokes.

This plan has to work. Dante should be here with him. And me!

“Oh look, no wonder you wanted to come this way. There’s Dante now.” Pam nudged me in my ribs as we walked down the beach with our food.

“It was Julia’s suggestion, remember?” But I hadn’t argued against it, hoping to see him. I regretted listening to her.

Dante had his hands on the hips of one of the resort’s regulars, a middle-aged woman with a big fat diamond on her left hand who always came without her husband. He coaxed her through the proper stance while she stood on a surfboard laid out on the sand. The woman’s barely there bikini wasn’t great surf attire.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Mrs. Courtland actually get on a board in the water,” Pam pointed out.

“As much money as she throws at lessons she should be a pro,” I griped.

“His job could be worse. With that body he could give Channing Tatum a run for his money and be in the next Magic Mike,” Julia said.

I grimaced. “Yeah. Point.” At least he was clothed. Somewhat. The sun gleamed over his tanned limbs and toned back, highlighted by the sweat glistening on every muscle.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetie. They’re always throwing themselves at him.” Julia rubbed my arm.

“I’m not upset,” I lied, failing to conceal my forlorn expression.

“You are, but it’s okay to be a little upset. Come on. We have a Netflix marathon to watch and we’re dragging you along for the ride.”

Wine, chocolates, and movies. It sounded like the makings for a perfect girls’ night in.

***

I
writhed beneath him, our legs tangled in the sheets, his heavier bulk a warm blanket over my healthy curves. Dante’s lips were the perfect cure for a sleepless night, his hands the only remedy for my insomnia. With one hard thrust, he claimed me and slid to meet the perfect depth.

“Do you know how much I need you?” he whispered against my lips.

My answer escaped in a groan. My body trembled, captive by the frenetic rhythm of his thrusts, his balls slapping against me. On the brink of climax, I buried my nails into his back and gasped his name as he drove forward again.

Riiiiing.

My dream hottie evaporated. The only thing sprawled over me was a rumpled blanket. A dream. He hadn’t visited me that night to apologize for his abrupt exit, and my wild imagination had worked my body up to a feverish state of excitement in his place.

Riiiiiing.

“Crap!” I dove for the phone on the bedside table and plucked it from the cradle. “Hello?”

“Hi, Alessa! Did I wake you?” My mother’s cheerful voice spilled from the phone.

I blearily rubbed my eyes and squinted at the digital clock. A quarter to ten. “Yeah, but I was about to get up soon anyway.” I crawled from the bed and onto my feet.

I wished a call from my mother was enough to douse cold water on my arousal, but it wasn’t. It only made the phone call awkward instead. Slick and wet with my need, I peeled off my damp panties and tossed them into the laundry bin.

“If it’s a bad time I can call back,” she offered, sensing my distress. “I wanted to let you know my flight is booked for the summer.”

“Huh? Flight? What flight? Where are you going?”

“To visit you, silly.”

Her announcement took me by surprise.

“Mom! You could have at least let me know so I could get you a room on my employee discount,” I wailed over the line. Reservations usually came at a three month
minimum
.

“I didn’t want you to spend your money on me, sweetheart. I’ll just stay with you again. I thought it would be nice to finally see the island in the summer, even if it is the busy tourist season. Don’t worry. I won’t interrupt your work. I can fend for myself and enjoy the sights.”

“It’s not my money. It’s a discount,” I rationalized.

A fist pounded against my front door. I pivoted on a foot and moved into the main room, my modest couch and television the reason I hated the idea of putting mom up at my place. A glance through the windows revealed Dante on my porch.

With her in town, our baby-making plans would have to be put on the backburner if I wasn’t pregnant by the time she arrived.

“Hey Mom, I gotta go. Someone from work is here. Email me your details, okay?”

“Sounds good, sweetie. I’ll see you soon.”

I disconnected the call and pulled open the door. “Hey,” I greeted, my voice breathy. Dante wore his usual, board shorts and an unbuttoned top. Today it was a solid peach color he pulled off without any loss to his masculinity.

“Morning, Alessa.”

We studied each other in silence, each waiting for the other to talk. He didn’t invite himself in, and I didn’t offer.

“I tried to call you last night,” I said quietly.

“I had something to take care of.” His eyes dropped to the phone in my hand then crept up my t-shirt clothed body. Thin cotton failed to disguise my nipples, but the weight of his gaze on them restored the hot longing inspired by my dream. I tugged self-consciously on the hem. “Should I come back later?”

“Oh, no, come on in. Did you need something?”

“Yes.” He stepped inside, nudging me back by his sheer presence, and pulled the door shut behind him. “You.”

“Whoa, hold up a second buster.” I threw both hands up and pushed at his chest. His perplexed expression might have been funny if I wasn’t so incredibly insulted. “You don’t get to show up for sex whenever you feel like it. I’m not your personal fuck-puppet.”

“You agreed—”

“I agreed to carry your baby, yes. It still doesn’t mean you get to hit me up for sex and bounce back to your beach bunnies.”

Dante’s expression fell, washed away as if I’d splashed him with ice water. “Alessa—”

“Don’t ‘Alessa’ me,” I fired back at him. “I’m still going to do this.” Because the idea of motherhood had gained momentum, like a speeding mack truck with blown brake lines. “And I haven’t changed my mind, but I’ll be damned if...” I inhaled deeply and took time to gather my thoughts. Dante watched me in silence without interrupting again. “I need to know, Dante. Are you still sleeping around with the guests?”

“Why would you ask that?”

“I saw you yesterday during Mrs. Courtland’s lesson and I know, for the past three years, she’s slipped you her room key. We all know.”

“So? It doesn’t mean I’ve ever made a visit to her room,” he bit back at me. “Is that how little faith you have in me?”

“Oh come on, Dante, you’ve dallied with plenty of girls. You’re hot and you’re single, so it’s not like it’s a big deal.”

“I haven’t slept with a client in two seasons,” Dante said. “Not last season. Not this season. Not once.”

A sick feeling churned in my gut, lying beneath the fleeting sense of elation. “No one last year or this year?”

“No one.”

But me.

He took my hands gently, dwarfing them with his larger fingers. “We don’t have to do this, Alessa. Asking you to birth a child for me put you in a shitty position. Let’s forget it. The last thing I want is for you to feel used in
any
way. Leaving this island with your friendship matters more to me... than... than anything,” he confessed.

I shook my head. “No, I’m being dumb. I guess it hurt my feelings when you walked out yesterday. I’d just thought...”

“I offered to cancel,” he reminded me, a fact forgotten while I sniveled in my pity party.

“And I should have graciously accepted.”

He raised my hand to his mouth and kissed my fingers, sending electric tingles across my skin.

“I’m sorry. For assuming the worst about last night,” I whispered.

“I have a gift for you.”

I blinked. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Dante smiled. “I know, but I wanted to.” Releasing my hands first, he pulled open the velcro flap over his pocket and reached inside.

A gorgeous necklace glittered in the sunbeams filtering through my living room window. Pearls and small shells hung on gold wire, forming an elegant piece suitable for an underwater princess. A multi-hued scallop shell dangled at the center, red streaked with orange and cream.

“Dante, this is
beautiful
,” I squealed once I found my voice.

“True mermaids wear something similar,” he said. “You resemble one.”

Dante fastened his gift around my neck, pressing a kiss against my nape before he stepped back. The central pendant hung right above the hollow of my breasts. Nothing in my jewelry box compared to the unique piece, which meant...

“You made this for me?”

He nodded. “I searched the ocean floor after rebuffing Mrs. Courtland. I wanted to find something special for you.”

I pictured him awake throughout the night hunting down little shells. Suddenly, the vast amount of pearls and polished stones in his grandfather’s inventory made sense. Dante found them. He found all of them. “Thank you. It’s the loveliest thing anyone’s ever given me,” I whispered with my chin low. It was too pretty to look away.

“Should I leave now?”

“No. Please stay. We should talk anyway.” With my hand in his, I guided him to the couch then fetched glasses of passion fruit juice from the fridge. He tried to coax me onto his lap, but I settled beside him instead, hoping to conceal my lack of panties.