Catching Preeya (Paradise South Book 3) (14 page)

*

When she turned to answer Bobby, the flight’s lead host in first class, she spotted those damn illuminating amber eyes as Ben turned to sit in his cozy
first-class
seat.

Had he followed her, maybe even changed his flight? No, not likely.
I mean, get over yourself, Preeya.

But such a coincidence?
Nice try. There are no coincidences, Pree!

And was it really that crazy? How many connections did Jetta Air have from Houston, anyway? Like, five? A
twenty-percent
chance wasn’t all that mystifying.

Either way, she was safe in coach again, and by the time they’d land, he’d deplane and be stuck in customs for an hour or more, and she’d shoot through the express crew lane and she wouldn’t have to face Dr. Ben Trainer ever again.

She took out her phone to send Prana the ritual takeoff text and then power down, but a new message stared up at her, one that was too
all-caps
-angry to ignore.

THE GALL, MISSING YOUR FATHER’S WEDDING. Your father is crushed
.
So is Sylvia, your stepmother
. Right,
Sylvia
—her father’s goddamn
tit-enhanced
patient? God, how cliché?

But the worst part of her aunt’s message made her gut wretch.
The one most crushed by your absence is
Prana
.

What—they’d gotten her sister from SafeHaven?

Screw Champa. The hell with all of them. Using Prana. Like they knew her sister from a stranger on the street. To people like Champa, her sister was a burden, an alien, a leper.

This was nothing out of the ordinary for her aunt. Or her father. Maybe an East Indian thing, the tool of guilt? Convenient and at no cost to the user.

She flung her phone in her purse, then clicked her seat belt buckle with unnecessary force. She inhaled a lungful of recycled air.
Puerto Vallarta. Alone. Here I
come.

CHAPTER 15

A
fte
r customs and
immigration, she walked with the other flight attendants through to the exit. And there he was waiting. For her? Damn it, she hoped not. And how did he get through so fast?

“Hey, I’ll catch up to you guys…seven sharp, in the lobby,” she said to Bobby and Janet, glad that at least for tonight she wouldn’t be eating alone.

“Isn’t that the doctor from yesterday’s flight?” Bobby asked her of Ben, who leaned against the wall in a casual, totally out of character pose just past the
time-share
hawkers.

“Yeah, but how did you know that?”

“The company intranet had a photo of you and him with the boy at the ambulance yesterday.”

“Oh.” God, she hoped it hadn’t spread beyond that. “Well, he must have a question for me about the medical reports we filled out,” she told him, again keeping her business to herself.

She waved to them and veered reluctantly over to where Ben stood. His eyes were narrowed, searching hers, but not drawn to hers like the past looks he’d given her. Not even raising his eyebrows as she approached. Not even standing taller. Was he even waiting for her at all?

A spark of some leftover rage tore through her then. And a touch of embarrassment, a pinch of insecurity. But she was already a few feet from him and couldn’t turn away now.

“Were you wanting to speak to me again?”
To say some
fucked-up
, judgmental generalizations that don’t apply to me because you don’t know me from Bobby or Jan or Jessica or fucking
Kelly?

“I’m actually waiting for my sister, but I am glad to see you… I want to apologize.” He shifted his stance and stood taller. “I am sorry, you know, for what I said. To you. I was angry. It was uncalled for.”

She was listening.

“You were just so flippant about…us and…well, I hadn’t been with another woman since—”

“Since who? Jamie?”

“How did—”

“You called me Jamie this morning…when I woke up in your fucking arms.”

“Jesus!”

“That’s right, you actually said ‘Jesus, Jamie.’ That’s exactly what you said.”

Ben sighed and shook his head, cheeks flushed like he’d seen a ghost. “I am so, so sorry. Listen, Preeya…Jamie—”

“Don’t bother, Ben. I’m totally over it.”

“She is,
was
…shit! Jamie is my late wife, Preeya. She passed away a year ago…from cancer.”

She swallowed, but with her heart lodged in her throat beating triple time, she felt like she was choking, impending death by airlessness and horrifying stupidity.

“I should’ve told you, but…the mood, the timing.” He stepped closer to her, as if he wanted to take her hands, but instead he shoved them in his pockets and lowered his chin to his chest. “Anyway, you’re the first woman I’ve been with.” Eyes down at the floor, cheeks now hot red, he was a man in the net of embarrassment, like a teenage virgin in the locker room with his
all-too
-experienced buddies.

Preeya was struck in the heart. And sick to her stomach at the same time. Like she had the sudden weight of the world on her shoulders. She’d been cruel, left him at the hotel without a word. Raked him over the coals in Houston.

And she’d taken the
re-virginity
of a goddamn widower! Fuck, he should have really said something, right? Because she couldn’t have known. He was too damn confident, diligent, masterful with her body—and with his body—in bed. For God’s sake, she would never have known. She was led to the peak of pleasure too many times to think such vulnerability existed in this man.

Now she felt ill.
She
had become a landmark in time for this man, this
good-hearted
,
well-meaning
,
perfect-soul
of a man. A doctor. Without borders. Who’d lost his fucking wife.

Wait, wasn’t he too young to have lost a wife, for God’s sake?

She just stood there and shook her head. Speechless.

“Again, I apologize for saying what I said to you…it was screwed up…just not okay.”

She believed his apology. It was disgustingly authentic.
Gut-wrenching
.

She was the asshole. And he was the saint.

Damn it. She had even sensed—and ignored—his immediate regretful look when he’d spat those words at her in Houston, when the shock in his wide eyes stared back at her even before she shot her biting words back at him and stormed into the crew lounge. His words didn’t even fit his mellow, professional albeit slightly arrogant doctor persona. Even the newer addition of swear words to the man’s vocabulary was almost too weird for her to hear. But it was also refreshing. More real. Like he was admitting he was less perfect than maybe he was.
But hardly imperfect at
all.

“It’s fine,” Preeya said. “I mean, I get that you were pissed. I understand now. And I assumed something about you
first
. I was the one who was totally off base. The whole thing, a crazy mess of assumptions…which I started.” She looked down, almost too embarrassed to meet those eyes again.

“Preeya, it’s okay. Really,” he said while leaning into her as if to make sure she caught his follow up smile backing up his words.

She nodded and gave him a half grin back. “You know…what you said about flight attendants, well, although I don’t sleep around…” Yes, she wanted him to know that, “I have plenty of female FA friends who definitely, you know, are out to have a good time. Just like plenty of guys are—no matter their professions. And except for one or two FAs I know who cheat to play”—she paused to sigh, thinking solely of Denver Kelly—“why shouldn’t women who work their asses off and travel for their jobs get to explore and enjoy?” She nodded, proud of her stance. Dawn from the guest room would’ve been proud, too.

He nodded back. Like he understood. “Fair enough.” He cleared his throat and shuffled his right foot. “Still, nice to know I wasn’t one of an army.”

She met his eyes and smiled. “No. You were anything but.”

More like one of a
kind.

The next moments of lingering silence could have been awkward, but they weren’t. Pensive or
mind-clearing
, but not awkward. She laughed to herself—maybe she and Ben both just needed to get out of their own tiny boxes, away from their habitual
assumption-forming
,
line-drawing
, and
judgment-making
.

“Anyway, I’m sorry again about skipping out on you…I’ll blame it on a bad past few days, but hell, my whole life is ‘a bad past few days’ times a thousand…million.” She scoffed then shook her head, eyes sighing from the reality hit.

He smiled at her with something like empathy in his gaze. Then he cleared his throat. “Listen, I’m staying with my sister, and she’s made dinner. I don’t know if you get much home cooking…but her mac and cheese is out of this world.” He punctuated his sweet offer by literally licking his lips.

She almost laughed out loud, but held back, defaulting to a
one-sided
grin that silently shouted
I want to but shouldn’t.

“Come on, join us.” His hand left his pocket and touched her elbow—a gentle nudge—which she pretended not to notice.

But she noticed. And her heart muscle noticed.

“You can strengthen up, overcome your
bad-days
streak with some of Stacy’s
motherly-love
-infused cooking—my sister’s kind of…well, you’ll see, if you accept the invite?” A smile slid over his face, brightening his eyes.

God, those eyes—she looked away like a shot.

“Doctor’s orders?” he added sweetly, almost innocently.

She didn’t know. Out of the blue, this altruistic and
life-saving
doctor,
out-of
-
this-world
lover, mourning widower. God, she didn’t even deserve to be in his company, let alone become his dinner guest.

But real food? Real people? His
real
sister? No agenda? It seemed innocent enough. Maybe just a person being kind. It could be the most real interaction with people other than Gigi and her sister that she’d had in who knew how long. If not ever.

But…
“Thank you. I’ll pass, though. I have dinner plans with the other whore FAs.” She winked. “Another time, maybe?” she said, and started to walk away from him toward the cab line.

“Wait.” There he was again. With his deep honey eyes, their slight sorrow hidden by a glaze of confident control.

He slipped a business card into her hand. “Just take this. I have an international cell plan, so call anytime. Really, anytime at all.”

Even though she already had his number on a napkin crumpled up deep in her purse because something stopped her from trashing it, she took the card from him with a nod of thanks. Then his eyes shifted to a woman waving at him across the crowd of handlers, drivers, and scrambling tourists. The excited woman had eyes of melting honey too, with a warm smile to match. She was most definitely the sister who had
home-cooked
food ready for him.

*

Hugging his sister, he felt home. This visit was a
long-overdue
and
much-needed
respite. A breath of fresh air after the third medical review trial, and the year of
third-world
travel. Family was the best medicine now. At least for the next three days.

While he put his passport in a secure zipper pocket in his messenger bag, Stacy caught him up about the kids. Then she started quizzing him on his upcoming medical expedition—when a hand touched his forearm.

“I changed my mind, if that’s okay?” Preeya’s voice was somewhat meek, at least in contrast to her brash, outspoken tone he’d come to know over the past day and a half. Her
long-lashed
violet-infused
eyes smiled at him. And he felt a twinge of the similar resurgent hope he’d felt the entire night before, when they were together.

“Yes. Good. Perfect. Um, Stacy, this is Preeya. Preeya Patel, the flight attendant who assisted me with the boy
in-flight
yesterday.”

CHAPTER 16

H
is sister had
just moved to a rented
tri-level
overlooking the Bay of Banderas. The view was mesmerizing. He could tell Preeya agreed—her eyes lit up, her hands grasped the balcony rail with excitement mixed with caution, and her chest lifted with the intake of fresh sea air. For him, his peripheral view was more captivating than the tropical expanse in front of them. Yes, Preeya hopelessly captivated him.

His niece, Beth, and nephew, Peter, came running out to greet him. They were both a head taller since he’d seen them last, and each had sharp and spry looks in their eyes, too. And as always, they were all about their Uncle Ben.

Until they met Preeya.

The kids had always loved hearing Ben’s medical tales, even before he’d visited
far-off
places this past year…but this time their dinner guest and her flights of fancy and crazy
high-in
-
the-sky
stories trumped all. Ben no longer existed. He loved it, though, her role as storyteller and entertainer to the nine and
eleven-year
-olds. It fit Preeya too well for words—her connection with the kids. With Stacy, too. He couldn’t remember his sister laughing like that. A gift with people, a cool head in chaos, and such intelligence in general, what a waste, Preeya quitting medical school, not specialized in something pediatric. But it wasn’t any of his business. At least not yet.

Stop fantasizing, Ben
. Stop thinking at all.

He shut off his brain and listened, then joined in the laughter erupting over the world’s greatest mac and cheese.

*

After dinner, the kids dragged Preeya off to show her their rooms while Ben snuck to the kitchen sink to start the cleanup before Stacy the Martyr finished the entire job herself.

“Benjamin Trainer,” Stacy whispered in his ear from behind, “I haven’t seen that look in your eyes since…” She paused and cleared her throat, catching herself—
tiptoeing
.

He sighed, just realizing that Stacy hadn’t uttered Jamie’s name since the funeral.

Maybe he’d given off a certain vibe—and maybe it was time to stop. “Since Jamie?” he asked, giving her permission to broach the delicate subject while he stared at the sudsy sponge in his hands.

A nervous laugh tumbled from her mouth as she began packing the leftovers. “Yes, since Jamie, Ben. And maybe with a new person in your life, you’d stop going on these dangerous expeditions.” She squeezed his shoulder on the way to the fridge with the containers. “I worry, Ben. I want you happy and…not…dead!”

“Stacy, please.” He put the sponge down to give her his full attention. “First off, they won’t give me the dangerous missions yet.” Though he’d kept on the coordinator as his year mark approached for more impactful projects. “So you need to keep the whole
mothering-your
-
adult-kid
-brother at bay.” His brows lifted to drive home his point.

He didn’t blame her for falling into the default role—she’d been his rock and only constant since their parents passed when he was only a toddler, being shuffled between relatives thereafter. And now, a single mother to Beth and Peter—yeah, he understood her pattern. Still, he’d outgrown it by about two decades of
action-packed
life.

“And, my dear sister and best friend, you’re reading into things here.” He flicked his eyes toward the kitchen door, to wherever Preeya had been smuggled off to by the kids. He needed to keep an even head about Preeya, and didn’t want Stacy’s excitement to tip him over the edge, because, God, after last night, then today—and
now
—he was too close to
there
all on his own.

“
My ass
am I reading into things,” she shot back. If nothing else, his sister was fiery. And he both hated and loved that about her. “No, no, brother, it’s not just
your
gazes at her. Oh no. That beauty you brought home, sharp as a tack I might add, is not keeping her eyes off of you, either—”

The kitchen door swung open. Preeya entered first, the kids in tow behind her.

“So, I got to see some awesome shell collections and surfing awards.” Preeya winked at the kids. “But now I’m ready to work. How can I help here?” That’s when Beth and Peter magically disappeared from the kitchen.

Stacy shook her head and sighed. “I should give those two some direction. If not toward
this
mess, then toward bed,” she said, waggling her brows. Stacy flashed a grin then exited as quickly as the kids had.

Preeya was at Ben’s side the next second, her hand on his arm, motioning with a head nod to let her help. Electricity and dishwater—not the safest…but Jesus, her heat.

His throat went dry, mind went blank.

Get it together, Ben.

He cleared his throat then smiled at her as he hunted for his voice—words, composure. “You don’t have to help with dishes. You’re the guest—and you were literally on your feet serving hundreds of crabby people all day. Please…sit and relax.”

“No, I really want to be here with you…
to help
.” Her
near-bashful
smile dimpled her blushing cheeks.

He nodded, chest tingling—
here with him? Really?
He moved to the center island to pick up where Stacy’d left off, packing the rest of the mac and cheese. But again he had no reply. Like a damn teenager—though not the teenager he’d been. He’d always said what he’d wanted, and then taken it. With Jamie, with everything. What the hell had happened to
that
Ben?

“The kids and your sister are wonderful. What a sweet family. I never had anything like this.”

He sighed and grinned, relaxing into her sweet words and voice. “My sister practically raised me.” He got back to packing the last of the baked dish. “I broke her in for those kids. So their successes are really mine,” he said through a snicker. Then he paused. “You know, you’re really terrific with them.”

“Oh, thanks. I, uh, have a younger sister myself,” she said over her shoulder. “Prana. She’s got Down’s syndrome and its…ancillary issues. Anyway,” she said, turning back to the dish in her hand, “I’ve had years of practice communicating with a brilliant yet childlike mind. Patience is Prana’s biggest lesson and best gift to me…oh, and true love.”

His breath left him like a sudden vacuum. Knowing this other side to her, it made his heart flip. She was an enigma.
Okay, but stop staring and speak.
“I’m sure. Of course.” He licked his dry, cracked lips, weird for how humid it was in Vallarta and in that kitchen. “You know, many of my patients during residency had debilitating and diminishing diseases. It must be so hard for you and your family. Over the years, with little to no progress, it wears on you, yes?”

She nodded but kept silent. It wasn’t quite an uncomfortable silence, but he sensed her pain. No, he felt it. It paused him. The last words he’d spoken—
years, no progress, wearing
—replayed in his head. They were equally applicable to what he’d endured with Jamie. And God, it had been his worst nightmare come true.

He looked up from the container he was filling, Preeya’s attention focused hard on him.

She had turned from the sink, hands white with suds. “You have a gift. With how you truly empathize with people…like, with me…just now.
You
lost your wife, yet you feel for me? While my sister is alive?” She took a step closer to the kitchen island and placed her wet, soapy hand over his. “Ben, I’m so sorry for your loss. It must have been horrible. It must still be horrible. For you. Yet you’re so strong, and so giving.”

He shook his head, closed his eyes, and moved his hand to his chest, to feel the wedding band he wore around his neck. That he’d taken off last night. In Boise, with Preeya. A new surge of guilt shot through him, made him dizzy, while Preeya’s words whirled around his head. Then they hit his heart.

And something changed.

Preeya’s words, her soft and gentle, humble and sweet sentiment, settled in like a child’s head sinking into a pillow at bedtime. Her words weren’t rejected like some foreign organ implant, the donor being too unrelated or false. His donor now, Preeya—Preeya and her genuine words—had been accepted by his
ever-combative
heart. This time his body rejected the guilt, the shame.

His heart pounded with relief and heat and promise.

He felt flushed. How had this stranger penetrated him like this? Plenty of others had tried to broach the subject, but had all failed. Miserably. They’d just managed to increase the pain. And even though he knew his heartache was not unique, it of course felt singular to him. Somehow Preeya Patel had just made him feel…okay about that. Not even his
loyal-to
-
the-end
sister ever managed such a feat since Jamie passed.

Words didn’t seem an appropriate response back to Preeya: her genuine tenderness, this landmark, deserved more. So much more. He swallowed back a knot of emotion in his throat, while refusing to remove his eyes from hers. God, he wanted to take the two steps toward her, take her in his arms. Be taken in hers.

But the kitchen door swung open—Beth needing her new friend as badly as he did, it seemed.

“Preeya, Preeya! Come see,” his niece said, bouncing up and down. “Peter’s got an iguana to show you!”

She nodded at Beth, smiled with a slow, sweet blink at Ben as she lifted her soft, soapy hand from his. “I’ll be right back?”

He gave her a nod, then Preeya followed Beth out just as Stacy came in, brushing by Preeya and giving their guest a warm smile. Had Stacy been standing outside the door? He wouldn’t put it past her.

But he couldn’t care less. He felt dizzy and light yet anchored at the same time.

“Oh, God, Stacy…” He shook his head, searching for words.

“Do you believe me now? She’s into you, and it’s good. It’s really good.” She smiled, then turned away from him, taking over dish duty.

He hoped to God his sister was right. That Preeya was “into” him.
Into him
—God, he felt old. He snorted then sighed.
Wait
. What if his sister was off, just seeing what she wanted to see? What if he was just a charity case in Preeya’s eyes?

No, Ben.
From the way she touched his hand, no. It was real. It was too real. But…

“I just don’t know. I’m so far out of the game, Stace. I can’t see home plate. I’m not even in the nosebleeds. I’m like, across the damn street. Hunting for a parking spot in the ninth inning.”

“Not according to her—I promise you that. Not according to her, little brother.”

She kept silent for a while, attacking the dishes full force while her words resonated in his head.

“I want to take her to the beach, to the Marietas, maybe. Tomorrow.”

His sister paused, turned, and smiled at him. “You should. You absolutely should. The Marietas are perfect—a good boat ride—swim, relax, hike. Weather’s supposed to be perfect. You’ll need lots of sunscreen…”

“Yes, Mom,” he scoffed, realizing some things would never change.

He looked back down at the center counter and reached for the rag to wipe it down. “I’ll ask her tonight. For tomorrow.”

“Good,” she encouraged.

“Yeah. I’ll just, you know, ask her.”

*

“You sure I can’t drive you to your hotel? It’s really not far.”

“Thanks, but no. I shouldn’t take any more of your time and your family’s kindness. Really.” She smiled. He had done so much in just forgiving her for skipping out on him, then giving her a slice of a different and sweet reality; a home and a family for the evening. He couldn’t possibly know how special that was.

Then the trust he’d given her the night before, putting his heart on the line. His first intimate experience since his wife had passed. Preeya still shivered from the thought, the weight, the depth of that notion.

And she, of course, couldn’t forget the incredible sensations he’d gifted her with. The vibrations still rang through her body, now more apparent since her mistaken fury had been diffused and his kindness had brought her heart to a new version of open.

No, she’d taken enough from him. “I’ll just take a cab and let you be with your family. You said you were only here for what, two or three days?”

“Yes, then on to a vaccination project.”

She smiled at him. He was so intriguing, giving, calming. “So, I guess…”

“Tomorrow,” he blurted.

“Oh, you’re leaving tomorrow?”

“No, no. I mean, tomorrow…let me take you to this place I love. The Marietas. They’re islands, a
forty-minute
boat ride from shore. At the opening of the bay. There’s a hidden beach, it’s just amazing. It’s my favorite place here. I want to take you, that is, if you have no plans?”

Plans? The only plan she had was to procrastinate her
forced-upon
R & R with herself. “But don’t Stacy and the kids want to spend time with you?”

“The kids are in school every day and Stacy is a writer—when the kids are out, she’s in her zone and nothing and no one exists. So I’m on my own here. That is, except for dinnertimes. Otherwise, I get no attention, no love,” he said with a
puppy-dog
sadness in his eyes, then he smiled at her like he had last night. In the midst of their sensual play in the Boise hotel room, where he’d transported her to another place, another world.

And to have that again, God, it was so tempting.

But she just wasn’t sure. To drag this out…was it fair? What of her mandated alone time? Because she was so damn lost, and getting down to the problem and the solution—assuredly
her
and
her,
respectively—was so overdue. And based on Evan’s recent success after she’d left him, proof positive that her issues seemed contagious. And Ben was just too good of a man. Another day together—possibly a heavenly, unmatched day—wouldn’t it just be a painful tease? For them both?
And…and…and.

His smile vanished during her mental deliberation. “I’ve gone by myself before, to the Marietas. No obligation, Preeya, really.” A polite grin followed.