“We’re not staying here,” Molly announced when Anders turned into the parking lot of the beachfront resort. Water surrounded the high rise on three sides. A modern oasis plunked down in the middle of a tropical paradise, it appeared ritzy and expensive even in the darkness. By daylight, it would look like one of those fairytale places in travel magazines that made you wonder who the heck could afford to vacation there.
“What’s wrong with this place? It’s the best hotel in town.”
She couldn’t swing a dinner at a five-star restaurant let alone a stay at a five-star hotel. She bent to read the sign. “The Crystal Blue Resort and Spa. Yeah, the motel up the road is good enough for me. You can drop me there.”
Anders cocked an eyebrow at her as if he was questioning her sanity.
She bowed her head and exhaled heavily. “I can’t afford this place, Anders.”
“Good thing you don’t have to pay for it then.”
“You’ve already done enough for me. I don’t know how I’m going to repay you for the flight, let alone everything else.”
“Just so you know, I accept neck massages as currency.”
A laugh bubbled up Molly’s throat but it came out in a cough. Was he intentionally flirting with her or just trying to be cute to distract her from the point she was trying to make? “I’m being serious.”
“So am I.” The rain had stopped but the moon was still playing peekaboo between the clouds as he drove under the hotel portico and parked the car. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I think I pulled something when I dove in the water earlier.”
The valet attendant crossed in front of the car to come around to the driver’s side.
Molly sniffed. “Good thing this is a spa because I’m not giving you a massage.”
He looked dejected. “I reckon you wouldn’t. But can’t blame a guy for trying.”
“The hotel is just too—”
“I’ll get a suite and if it makes you feel better, you can sleep on the couch.” He didn’t wait for her response but got out of the car and handed his keys to the attendant. “The bags are in the back seat. Just two. The woman will carry her own. She’s not really staying here.”
“He’s hilarious,” Molly muttered to herself. She turned in her seat to talk to Obie. “Your father can be a stubborn—” She stopped when she realized the boy was sound asleep. She hated the idea of owing Anders for the hotel too, but what was a few hundred more dollars? The thought of all that money made her nauseous, but Obie needed to go to bed and she was honestly too exhausted to fight with Anders about where they stayed the night.
Molly waited with Obie while Anders checked into the hotel. When he returned, she climbed out of the car. “You’re going to have to carry Obie.”
“We could wake him?”
“If you make him walk to the room, he might not go back to sleep. Cheyenne was like that at his age.”
Anders looked down at Obie in the back seat. It was almost eleven o’clock at night. He’d been asleep for at least thirty minutes. Probably longer. He nodded. “Hold the door for me.”
She held it open as far as it would go while Anders leaned into the car. In his papa’s arms, Obie looked much younger than his age. When Anders settled the sleeping boy against his chest and a little arm curled around his throat, a deep and primitive longing stabbed Molly in the gut.
She wanted another baby.
His baby, a little voice in her head whispered, and her heart squeezed at the thought.
She snorted softly. Keep dreaming, little voice. Keep dreaming.
They followed a bellman through the hotel lobby’s gorgeous atrium over white marble flooring, past dancing fountains and potted palm trees. The place was several steps higher than the fanciest hotel she’d ever stayed at. When they got into the elevator, Molly stepped back against the glass wall. Obie was curled around his father, fast asleep, his cheek smooshed against a broad shoulder. He really needed a shower. They all did. They smelled like the human equivalent of wet dog. Maybe they’d have to wake him after all.
As the elevator started to rise, Anders turned to look at Molly. She smiled as their gazes lingered. His thick wavy hair was rumpled and still damp. He had a roguish five o’clock shadow and a twinkle in this eye that suggested he was smiling back at her even though his mouth was set in a firm line.
Something passed between them. A physical awareness. The look in his eyes changed. Heat replaced the humor. His gaze dropped to her chest and she realized her damp T-shirt was clinging to her breasts. Her nipples tightened under his blatant interest. Heat climbed up her neck and flushed her face, but she didn’t shy away from him or try to cover herself. If he wanted to play, she knew how to play. She leaned against the cool glass and turned her gaze away, pretending to be interested in something in the atrium while gently arching her back.
His soft, low chuckle made her belly quiver, and she suddenly felt as awkward as a teenager with her first crush. Okay, maybe she was a little out of her league.
The hotel room was over the top. Ultra-modern decor, white marble walls, floors, and accents, and a private balcony with a breathtaking view of the starry sky and moonlit bay below. A giant four-poster bed sat in the center of the space, facing the open pocket doors.
As Anders tipped the bellman, Molly walked farther into the room, afraid to touch anything. She turned when Anders came into the room.
“Help me change him out of these clothes.” Anders set Obie on his feet because he was waking up.
The little boy rubbed his eyes sleepily. “I’m itchy and wet.”
“Maybe he should take a shower before he puts on his PJs,” Molly suggested.
Anders wrinkled his nose and nodded. “Good idea. Do you want help?”
Obie shook his head. “Where’s my backpack?”
“By the door.” Anders poked his head into the bathroom and turned on the light. “There’s soap and shampoo on the counter.”
“Got it.”
When Obie shut the door, Molly eyed the king bed, wondering if Anders intended for the three of them to share it. They’d fit, but it would be a little weird, not to mention presumptuous. “So, where’s that couch you promised me?”
He glanced at the bed as if noticing it for the first time though it was the largest piece of furniture in the room. “Sorry to disappoint you, but it’s not a couch. It’s all they had without a reservation.” He produced a keycard from his pocket, touched it to a small white dome on the wall, and the pocket door next to it slid open. “I was thinking you and Obie could share the two queens in the connecting room and I’d take the king. If that’s all right with you? I need the extra legroom.”
“Of course, I don’t mind sharing. I was serious about the couch though.” She started for her bedroom, but he caught her arm. When she looked up at him, his grip softened but he didn’t let go.
“I know you were. Don’t worry about it, Molly. I’ve got more money than I know what to do with. I offered to help you because I want to. No strings attached. The important thing here is that we get Cheyenne back safe and sound. That’s all that matters to me.”
Her heart squeezed with gratitude and she tried not cry again. She’d been doing too much of that lately, but it was difficult not to when he was being so kind. She knew of Anders’ reputation. Knew that the people he worked with couldn’t say enough nice things about his big heart and his humble and generous nature but reading the stories and witnessing his goodness firsthand were two different things. She couldn’t help but be dazzled and so incredibly thankful.
Swallowing hard, she blinked back her tears and let out a watery laugh. “If you weren’t as tall as a redwood, I’d kiss you right now.”
A smile tugged the corner of his mouth. He bent at the waist and offered his cheek.
She could’ve given him a chaste peck and been done with it, but that wouldn’t have done her gratitude justice. Leaning toward him, she shifted to the right and kissed his lips.
Startled, he pulled back slightly.
“I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to…” Her voice trailed off.
His warm, slanted eyes were so close. A pure sky blue inside a turbulent expression that churned with surprise, confusion, and a little bit of irritation. Her heart sank. What had she done? She shouldn’t have kissed him. She was taking advantage of his generous nature and using it as an excuse to get closer him. Not to mention, Obie was in the next room taking a shower. The water had been running for a few minutes now. He’d be out shortly. The little boy already had to suffer through watching her accost his father at the marina, he didn’t need to see it again. But even if Obie hadn’t been there, she had no right to touch Anders.
Moistening her dry lips, she opened her mouth to try again. “I shouldn't have done that. I—”
He kissed her.
Her stomach dipped and spun like a tilt-a-whirl at the state fair as he cupped her face and molded his lips to hers. The sweet contact ended when he pulled back abruptly. Slightly breathless, he gazed at her with blue eyes that were as dark and tumultuous as a storm-tossed sea.
“You’re trembling.” His hand stroked up her bare arm, leaving more goose bumps in its wake. “Do you want me to close the balcony doors?”
The ocean breeze brought cooler air with it likely carried in by the rain, but that wasn’t why she was shivering. “It’s not that. I’m just nervous.”
“Nervous?” His head tilted to the side as he studied her curiously.
Molly snorted. “As a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.”
A short, barking laugh escaped his throat. “But you kissed me.”
“I shouldn’t have. For starters, Obie—”
“Is still in the shower.” Anders slid his hands around her back. “My God, I’ve never met anybody like you, Molly MacBain.”
He kissed her again, but this time she met him halfway. With a soft groan, he pulled her against his chest and deepened the kiss. And just like that, she was back at the fair, soaring through the sky on the flying swings, alive and free. Her nerve endings sang as she relished the taste of him, his scent, and the strength of his body. The possessive touch of his hands as he cupped her bottom and pulled her pelvis against his rapidly increasing hardness.
A bang against the door broke them apart. Molly spun away from Anders and stood trembling worse than before. The doorknob rattled as if someone was trying to get into the room. Anders motioned her back and then cautiously approached the door to peer through the peephole.
Molly’s pounding heart tripped then picked itself up again and started racing for an entirely different reason. “Who is it?” she whispered and suddenly remembered why they were in Jamaica and what almost happened to them less than two hours ago. Was it Wade? Had he found them?
When Anders didn’t reply, Molly ducked into her room looking for something she could use as a weapon. She settled on the stainless-steel ice bucket because it had some weight to it.
When she peeked around the corner, she discovered Anders had flattened himself against the wall.
He shouted through the door. “Can I help you?”
The rattling stopped and then a puzzled male voice said, “Vanesa?”
“You’ve got the wrong room, buddy.”
Another pause. “Oh, shit. Wrong floor. Sorry.”
Anders didn’t move.
Molly held her breath.
He leaned toward the peephole again and peered through it. “He’s gone.” Turning away from the door, he stopped short when he saw Molly. “What were you planning to do with that? Offer him a drink?”
She gripped the ice bucket beneath her chin like a fiddle. “No.” Slightly embarrassed, she came into the room and placed the bucket on the dresser. “If it was Wade, I was going to hurl it at his head.”
Anders pressed his lips together and nodded with approval. “Great idea.”
As they stared at each other, a current passed between them as if he too was recalling what they’d been up to before the interruption. The shower had stopped. Obie would be opening the bathroom door at any moment. But even if that weren’t the case, they couldn’t do that again simply because it was pointless. A fling between the two of them couldn’t lead to anything but heartache. Conflicting feelings of longing and regret tumbled in her chest like a pair of old sneakers in a clothes dryer. Molly swallowed hard and realized Anders was trying his damnedest not to bust a gut. She squinted at him suspiciously. “Are you laughing at me?”
“No,” he said and then ruined it by laughing.
She picked up the ice bucket, but instead of hurling it at his head, she tucked it under her arm. “I’m going to take a shower and go to bed. I’m keeping this with me in case I need it.”
His laughter followed her into the other room, and he was still chuckling when she closed the bathroom door and turned on the shower. She should’ve been annoyed, but he had a great laugh. The sound of it filled her with lightness. They were forming a friendship of sorts and she didn’t want to ruin it by sleeping with him again. Thank goodness for Obie. Not a lot could happen with him there.
Having sex with Anders again would be amazing if they did it right, but it would also be a disaster. He’d never see her as a friend and she really wanted to keep him in her life. So, no more flirting. No more kisses. And definitely no more touching. Fate, in its twisted way, had blessed her with a second chance and she wasn't going to blow it. From here on out, she was keeping her hands to herself.
Anders jerked awake, breathing heavy and sweating despite the cool breeze blowing in through the open balcony. He’d been having a nightmare, but the details were already fuzzy and fading from his mind. He breathed deeply and smelled the sea.
Blinking to clear his eyes, he lifted his head off the pillow and took in his surroundings. He was sprawled in the middle of a massive bed. Beyond the open doors at his feet, the rising sun glittered off the surface of an aqua blue sea. Molly leaned against the railing, admiring the view. Her gloriously messy red-gold curls spilled down her back, dancing in the breeze. There was a light dusting of freckles on her bared shoulder. She had them on the bridge of her nose too and the apples of her cheeks, but they were so pale he hadn’t really noticed them until last night. Recalling the hot kiss they’d shared, his loins began to quicken.
“Molly?” His voice was husky with sleep.
She turned around. There was a dreamy expression on her face that faded when she met his eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. We don’t have a balcony in our room.”
“Come here.” He held out his hand. When she didn’t move toward him, he propped himself up on an elbow. “Molly?”
“I can’t.”
“Why can’t you? Are you worried about Cheyenne?”
She shook her head and glanced away. “Yes, but that’s not it. Kissing you last night… It was a mistake.”
“Well, how about you come over here and we’ll see if we can get it right this time?”
When Molly didn’t move, he realized she wasn’t playing coy or hard to get. He sat up in bed. Tucking the sheet around his waist, he left his chest bare as he settled back against the headboard. “How was it a mistake?”
“I just… I don't want to be another notch on your bedpost.” Her gaze darted away and then back again. “As the saying goes.”
Her shapely bare legs stuck out from beneath a rumpled, oversized blue T-shirt. The wide neckline hung off one slender, freckled shoulder. Fiery curls tumbled to her elbows in wild disarray. And even though her eyes were strained, and she was fidgeting like she had ants in her pants, she was the most adorable thing he’d ever laid eyes on. God, how he wanted her. “Darlin’, you’d never be a notch on anyone’s bedpost. You’d be more like a gouge, etched so deeply it ain’t never coming out.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He shrugged and wiggled his feet beneath the sheet. “It means I reckon you’re kinda unforgettable.”
There was no sassy comeback. No twist of humor on her luscious mouth. The look on her face was troubled and a little uncertain.
His smile faded as he realized he meant what he’d said. Molly really was something special. He didn’t want to hurt her, and if they hooked up, she was gonna get hurt. She knew it too. That was why she was pulling back.
Molly cleared her throat and came into the room. Sitting primly on the edge of the bed near his feet, she said, “Obie seems to be warming up to you.”
“You reckon so?” He tugged the sheet up, making half an effort to cover his chest, and he raised a knee to hide his erection. His body wasn’t on board yet with the decision to cool their jets.
“Yeah, I do.” She smiled and her gorgeous dimples popped him in the gut like a pair of champagne corks. “I think he likes spending time with you. Cheyenne’s like that. She’s always excited to do mother-daughter stuff with me. Sometimes I worry she enjoys it too much and I have to push her to spend time with kids her own age, but she’s an old soul. She’s always connected with adults better than other children.”
Anders plucked at the bedsheet. “I can see that in Obie. But what sorta stuff can I do with him? What do we have in common?”
“Take him out to dinner. Just the two of you. Go watch the sunset together. Ride bikes. Teach him how to play an instrument.” In her enthusiasm, she grabbed his foot and forgot to let go. “There’s so much you can do together. So much you can teach him.”
He enjoyed the way she expressed herself. She was a passionate woman. Whether she was singing a song, drinking a cup of coffee, or kissing a man she was hot for, she was all-in every time. He nudged her hand with his toe. “You give good advice, you know that?”
She glanced down. When she realized where her hand was, she let go of him and stood up. Smiling a little too brightly, she shrugged. “That’s what friends are for.”