A Thin Line (21 page)

"Yeah, well. Like I said. I figured the reward would be better than that."

"You're sure hyping up this reward a lot. I guess I better make it worth the anticipation, hmm?"

"Being with you again is a reward in itself."

"Suck up."

He laughs. "Guilty. But I was thinking I could maybe get a little reward right now for being a good boy."

I eye him, head to toe, lounging next to me. He looks so handsome in that suit, so relaxed, his legs stretched out in front of him, one arm spread over the couch cushions, the other around me.

I sigh. "You know I want nothing more than to undress that body, piece by piece and give you the best reward I could possibly muster up, for the rest of the night..."

"But..."

"But we have to show our faces downstairs." I glance at my watch and my eyes bug out at the time. "Like, now. It's already nearly 1AM."

He curses under his breath, but begins making moves to stand up. I grab my clutch, check my makeup in the mirror and run my fingers through my hair. It’s a little more tousled since Preston has had his hands in it, but at this point, this is the best it's going to get.

"How long do we have to hang out down here before we can disappear?"

"Let's play it by ear, but I'm guessing at least until three." He grunts, making his way toward the door. I follow closely behind him. "Hey, do you know anything about Troy bringing a guest to the wedding? He hasn't told me anything about someone he was that interested in."

"Oh, yeah. He's been keeping it quiet." Preston reaches for the door and opens it.  We step into the hallway and slowly march down to the elevator.

"Well, do you know her? And why's he keeping it–"

The door to the room across the hall opens and Troy steps out. And in the next moment I find out why he's been keeping his love interest a secret.

She looks different than the last time I saw her, more understated. Her hair is still in the twists that frame her face so well. Her dress, a modest black sheath, strapless with a sheer wrap that covers her arms and shoulders, just touches her knees. Her hazel eyes open wide in surprise as she steps out of the room behind Troy, saying something about the room key.

"Jade?" I say, which isn't so much a question as a
‘what the fuck are you doing here?'

"
Heeeyyy
," she says, drawing out the word ever so slowly. "Angie… right?"

I nod. "Uhm. So you're..." I point at Troy, who clears his throat and rolls his lips inward.

"Yeah. We uh... met at Prime. Right before she quit. Then I saw her at the courthouse one day and we started talking and..."

"Courthouse? You're an attorney?"

"No.” She shakes her head, reaching out for Troy. “I work for the Department of Social Services. One of my clients was involved in one of Troy's cases and I was representing his interests as a minor. I recognized him from the bar and we started chatting."

Jade looks from me to Preston to Troy. "I... I didn't know they were related until after we started talking."

"Right." I feel bad that I can't seem to control my attitude. But not bad enough to actually try and control it.

Thankfully Preston is the tactful one. He steps between us and grabs my elbow, edging me down the hall toward the elevator. "We should go check on the party downstairs."

Preston presses the button for the elevator and when the door slides open, ushers me inside. When the door closes again, he shoves his hands in his pockets and glares at me. I suppose his glare matches mine.

"Don't start, Angie. I didn't know about her until tonight."

"I'm not starting. But I think it's odd that a woman who expressed interest in you is now dating your brother. And she’s coming to the wedding with him. She can't have known him for that long."

Preston leans against the mirrored walls and crosses one leg over another. "Maybe he didn't want to be your alibi.”

"You'd think he would have said something. We're pretty close."

"Why? So you can talk him out of it? He's a grown man. He really likes her. And I didn't sleep with her, remember? You don’t have anything to worry about."

I grunt, crossing my arms. "I don't want her fucking with him to get close to you.  And I'll tell her that to her face."

The elevator dings and the doors slide open. The lobby is teeming with people in everything from jeans and sandals to formal wear, all heading toward the ballroom on the left side of the building. We follow the crowd and enter the room, lights already dimmed, tea lights lit. The music is blaring through the speakers on either side of the stage and the dance floor is nearly full.

"Wow," I sigh, grabbing Preston's arm. "This turned out so nice."

"Yep," he agrees, his eyes roving from one end of the room to the other. "You did a good job. I'm going to get a drink. Try and find Morgan and Nate. I'll come find you."

I nod and he ambles off in the direction of the bar at the rear of the room. I spot Nate and Morgan in the middle of the dance floor, arms around each other, laughing and talking, slow dancing to fast paced dance music.

I recognize Morgan's evening bag at a table on the edge of the room, near the food, so I take a seat nearby.  A few minutes later, Preston drops a glass of clear liquid in front of me and takes the seat next to me. We sip and watch the room. I enjoy the view of everyone having a great time. Preston is enjoying my thigh in his grip under the table. Truthfully I am enjoying it too. I mentally will him to move higher, but he doesn't. Tease.

"Careful," I say, my voice low. "Here comes Nate and Morgan."

"I got it under control," he mutters, giving my thigh a squeeze. I suck in a breath and try to not to react to the bolt of lightning shooting through me.

I'm beginning to count the minutes until we can sneak out, go upstairs and enjoy feeling each other.

That moment doesn't come for another few hours. We are cajoled into shots, and then food, and then dancing until nearly 4AM. I finally call Uncle, grab my clutch and stumble to the door. The DJ is breaking down his equipment. He nods at me as I pass him. I thank him, making my way through the door and toward the elevator. As I press the ‘up' button, I feel an arm around my waist and smell a hint of familiar cologne.

"I thought you said we'd be out of there by three?"

I blink slowly, wearily. "I can't help it that our friends are party animals."

"It's because they never get out anymore, what with the trappings of suburban life. When they do, they don't want to go back in."

The elevator door slides open. We step in and press the button for our floor.

"Between yesterday and today I am worn out."

"Not too worn out, I hope."

I glance back at Preston and he looks fresh, like he woke up an hour ago. We arrive at our floor and exit the elevator, the carpet capturing the sound of our footsteps. I lead the way down the hall. "Your room or mine?"

"Don't care. Want to toss a coin?"

I stop at my room and pull out my keycard, slide it through and unlock the door. Then I hand it to him. "Give me ten minutes," I whisper.

"I'll give you eight.” He then slides my key into the breast pocket of his shirt and digs out his own keycard. As my door closes, I hear his door beep open.

Not five minutes later, I hear the keycard slide through the lock and the door beep open. I poke my head out of the bathroom, steam from the running shower billowing around me.

"Preston?"

He saunters around the corner in a white terrycloth hotel robe, then walks past me into the bathroom and pulls at the knot. The robe falls open, revealing him in all of his glory. Manly, molded chest, covered in a layer of soft, baby fine hair that narrows into a path leading over the ridges of rock hard abs, moving further south past the ‘V' cut that marks a breathtaking physique. The centerpiece, on display and fully erect, standing at attention. Waiting to serve.

"Evangeline."

Oh, holy fuck me.
Which, I guess, is the point?

I drop the towel I'm holding and try to close my mouth, but my jaw hangs open. I manage to tear my eyes away from his midsection and let them roll slowly, indulgently back up his body until I reach his eyes.

Through the glint and shine of the late night, I see more than lust and animal attraction. I see a look that is so familiar it takes my breath away. I used to see it every day. It was how I knew he loved me.

I'm suddenly not very tired at all.

We'd like to welcome our passengers to Flight 1923. This flight is nonstop to Miami, Florida. As soon as we have everyone aboard, we'll push back and head out. This is a short flight, so sit back, relax, and we'll reach your destination in no time.

I check my seat belt, then sit back and wait for takeoff. I can hardly believe we're actually on a plane, headed to St. Lucia. This trip, four months in the making, has changed my life.

I glance over and stare at Preston again. We haven't been apart since Thursday, the day he came to my apartment and then wouldn't leave without me. And I've loved every second of being with him. We've talked about everything and nothing, cooked together, drank together, sat together around the fire pit and watched the sun sink behind the mountains on the other side of Lake Conway, a view I finally don't have to pretend isn’t there.

This morning, I woke up in his bed, in his arms, with sun streaming through the glass patio doors and a light breeze oozing through the open window. I felt the scratch of his beard against my neck and shoulder as he nudged me awake. I smiled and burrowed deeper, pushing back against him snuggled up next to me. I wanted to savor the moment, the quiet of the room, the peace and serenity between us. These past four days have been the happiest I've had in a very long time. I want to hold onto these moments as long as I can and hope they last.

And I want to hope there really is still a chance for us.

The flight from Miami was cramped but quick on a small commuter plane and soon we are landing on St. Lucia. Once our group has gathered into a small mass of tourists and we've retrieved our baggage, we step outside into the sunshine to wait for the shuttle from
Rendezvous
. The breeze is cool on my face as the sun beats down. The weather Gods have blessed us with royal blue skies dotted with wispy, lazy clouds.  It's a beautiful day to be on an island.

"I can't wait to hit that beach," says Jackie. She rubs her protruding belly as Matt rubs her back.

"You okay, Jacks?"

She nods, her face split in a wide grin. "Perfect. I'm looking forward to this week. Matt and I never took a honeymoon."

"Well now you get your honeymoon and your babymoon all in one trip."

"What's a babymoon?" Troy asks. He and Jade are hanging back, on the fringes of the group. She's behind him like she's hiding from us, arms crossed, shades on. There's still tension between us–me, Troy and Jade. I make a note to grab him and have a heart-to-heart. Hopefully we can put everything behind us and enjoy this week.

"It's a trip new parents take before the baby comes," says Kent. He's playing with his phone, squinting at it and pressing buttons. "Before sex means putting on
The Lion King
and sneaking off to the bedroom to get in five minutes before there's a kid asking for grape juice."

"Kent and I went to... where was it honey? Before Leo was born?"

"Bahamas. Then Jamaica before Laney. Are we supposed to get service down here?"

Brandy grabs the phone and they bicker softly over whether or not they changed their phone plan to International before leaving the country. I glance at Preston, standing next to me, his hands resting on the handle of his suitcase.

"Stepford," he mouths, with a straight face. I'm trying not to laugh.

I see what looks like a bus rumbling down the road, a big blue RENDEZVOUS emblazoned down the side. "This must be our ride," I announce. The crowd titters as we gather our bags and line up at the edge of the sidewalk.

The shuttle pulls up next to us and a very tall, very handsome man steps down the stairs. "Welcome to St. Lucia," he says, in a voice I recognize. It's Andrew, the gentleman we booked with and have been working with to plan the wedding and excursions.

His face matches his voice, if that makes any sense. His hair and eyes are dark, his skin the most beautiful color of toasted cinnamon. His crisp white linen suit is spotless. He stands, hands clasped, as if he is our butler, ready to serve.

"I'm looking for Angie and Preston," he says, seeming to announce it, his eyes scanning the crowd. They all point to Preston and me.  He rushes forward to shake our hands and smile in our faces. "Welcome. It's wonderful to meet you in person. And the bride and groom?"

Preston and I point to Nate and Morgan, standing next to us with their arms around each other and grins two miles wide. He repeats the glad-handing with them and then steps back to survey the group.

"Do we have everyone then?" At our nods, he claps, then moves to open a compartment under the shuttle. "Leave your suitcases here, if you will. Then feel free to find a seat on the bus so we can make the trip to the resort. It's about a forty minute ride, so please take anything with you that you'll need before we arrive."

We all leave our suitcases and carryon baggage on the sidewalk in front of the bus. Preston pulls me aside. "This guy's not dressed for loading suitcases. I'll stay out here and help. Save me a seat."

I scowl. "There's like thirty seats on the bus, and we're the only people on it. You shouldn't have trouble finding a seat." He stares at me like I grew a second head. Until I wink. Relief washes over his face. He winks back, then sighs and turns to help Andrew load the bus.

Game on.

I find a seat towards the rear of the bus and settle in, a small bag in my lap. In my tank top, shorts and slip on sneakers, I'm ready to hit the water as soon as humanly possible. I talked Preston into wearing shorts and a short-sleeved shirt. The shirt is tight and clings to his shoulders, forearms and chest. Even if I can't touch him, I can enjoy looking at him. And taking it off later.

Preston and Andrew finally climb onto the bus, and without even glancing my way Preston takes a seat several rows in front of me, right behind Kent and Brandy. The occasional laughter and random comment floats back to me but for the most part, I'm by myself. As far as anyone else knows, I'm the only single woman on the trip. 

The roads in St Lucia are paved but not well maintained. The bus bumps along, irrespective of divots and pot holes, barreling forward toward the horizon and the peek of blue sea.

The bus slows as it turns onto a newly paved road that takes us between two wide white stone walls. On either side of the wall is a large sign that reads RENDEZVOUS in blue block letters.

The roads inside the gate are cobblestone and it looks like the paths that lead from one building to another are as well. As far as the eye can see, there are white stone structures with bright red roofs, all backing up to miles of white sand and the most beautiful blue water I've ever seen.

We roll to a stop in front of a red brick building and pile out, wandering around, taking in the view. Preston helps Andrew unload the suitcases and we are led inside the building and into a small meeting room. Andrew disappears and we all take seats around the table, oval in shape, made of a thick wood covered in shiny black lacquer. He returns, his arms full of folders.

"Your reservations," he says, laying them all out in front of him.

"Each of the buildings are separated into communities. You'll find these easily marked along the footpath across the resort, as well as on the maps included in each folder. For our wedding couple, we've placed you in a beachfront suite in our Veranda Community. It's completely private and tucked away, featuring a private pool and Butler service."

The group
ooh
's and
aah
's as he hands the folder to Morgan, who stares, slack jawed, at the resort brochure and description of their room. I peek over her shoulder, though I've seen the photos on the website and Preston and I booked the room.

Andrew hands out folders to the rest of the group. Everyone is spread out, but no further than a few minutes' walk or golf cart ride from each other. All of the couples have private beachfront suites, smaller than Nate and Morgan's but larger than the luxury single that Troy and Jade and Preston and I will be in.

"Last but not least, and by special request, I have two Penthouse Club level suites in a villa that we call Lover's Lagoon. These are for your trip planners Angie Campbell and Preston Reid."

Andrew hands a folder to me and slides one down the table to Preston. I glance at Preston, who seems as puzzled as I do. We booked single rooms, not suites.

I lift my gaze from the folder, stuffed with information, a map, and excursion brochures and photos of a decadent and luxurious room to find Morgan staring at me.  "You did this," I say, waving the folder in the air. She grins brighter, wider. "You didn't have to do this, Morgan. This trip is for you guys. Getting to come along was enough."

"We wanted to. To say thanks for everything." She angles herself to the left so she can see Preston, slouching in a chair at the end of the table, his folder open in his hands. "Both of you. We want you guys to have a really, really good time."

Troy stands and stretches, yawning loudly. "I'm ready for the beach, a beer and a nap. Can we check in right now?"

"You’re already checked in, and your key cards are inside your folders. Take them with you wherever you go. This resort is all inclusive, however you will need to use the card if you choose to dine in any of our fine restaurants or visit any of our local bars. Please make yourselves at home and if you are in need of anything, I am available at any time.  Welcome to Rendezvous." Andrew smiles and steps back, releasing us to the wild.

Nate stands, raising a hand to grab everyone's attention. "Hey, before anybody leaves, a couple of notes. No plans tonight, chill out, relax and explore the island. Tomorrow morning, the guys are golfing–"

"And the girls are having a Spa Day," Morgan interjects.

"Right. Then tomorrow afternoon we have the wedding rehearsal and tomorrow night is the rehearsal dinner."

Kent is messing with his phone again. "When's the wedding again?"

"Wednesday, two o'clock," Preston says. "You won't miss it. Put your phone away. Enjoy yourself, man."

Grumbling, Kent follows instruction and zips the phone away in his bag. "Doesn't work anyway. Probably spent three hundred dollars trying to open the calendar app."

"We provide free Wi-Fi across the resort and there are computers in the business center of every community that are available for use," Andrew says.

"Which nobody will be using, because we're on vacation. We can unplug for a few days, right?"

"Hell yes." I stand and grab my folder and my map. "I'm going to find my room," I announce, and wheel my bags out of the conference room.

A few steps outside the building, I hear the roll of wheels behind me. I know it's Preston, but I don't turn around.

"Hey what's your room number?" I stop and check the number printed on the front of the folder.

"Lover's Lagoon, Building 3, room 864. You?"

"862. Just like I thought." Preston catches up to me and pulls his bag upright, leaning on the handle.

"What, just like you thought?"

"They called and switched our rooms. Put us in the Lover's Lagoon right next to each other."

"Morgan owned up to that, like five minutes ago. So?"  The part of my brain that makes up things to worry about starts to churn. "You don't...  think they're on to us, do you?"

Preston shakes his head. "Nah. They think they're still pushing us together."

"Oh." I'm both relieved and disappointed. It's actually killing me to not at least tell Morgan. Now we really have to carry this out all week. "They're not very good at this, are they?"

"I know, right?"

I grin. "They totally did us a favor."

His grin matches mine, amped up by a twinkle in his eyes. "In a villa, off by ourselves..."

"In rooms next to each other..."

He snickers. "As if we're going to use both of them."

"You think it would freak them out if they knew we were sleeping together?"

"I don't know," he says, walking ahead of me, pulling his suitcase behind him. "I think they
want
this to work. I don't know if they
expect
it to work."

My bags and I follow closely behind. "It’s going to blow their minds when it comes out."

"Let's not think about that right now. Let's think about skinny dipping in our pool."

"And romantic dinners on our private balcony."

"Oh, and let's not forget sex in a Penthouse bed."

"Can't leave that out. It's the most important part."

Preston marches down the cobblestone path, his bag bumping along every crack until we reach the entrance to our villa. The community is a short trip of four white stone buildings, each joined by a skywalk above and a path below. The rooftops are dotted with patio tables, wide, sun blocking umbrellas and outdoor bars.

"We're in building three," I call ahead. Preston leads us toward the building marked with a large white number three. Since we don't have to check in, we head straight for the elevators and punch the number for our floor. The cube smoothly lifts us from the ground floor to the 8th floor and the door slides open again. We step out into the widest, most brightly lit hallway I've ever seen in a hotel.