Saltwater Kisses: A Billionaire Love Story (The Kisses Series Book 1) (4 page)

Twilight was slowly taking over the resort, the sun’s rays quickly fading in streams of red and gold that played across the sand and reflected off the water. The pool gleamed like a bright ruby as a couple splashed in its jeweled depths. Small lights twinkled in the palm trees lining the paths to the various areas on the resort. The entire world seemed to glow with excitement and romance. Everywhere I looked, I could see dark romantic corners for lovers to hide, and laughing couples stealing kisses in the fading light. For the first time in a long while, I wasn’t envious of the lovers.

Jack kept me laughing as we walked easily towards the restaurant. The wind blew warm across my face and ruffled my skirt, the smell of food drifted out to compel hungry vacationers to eat. He seemed to know where he was going so I let him lead. He guided me carefully past other guests, his hand on the small of my back, directing me where to go as if we were dancing. He walked with confidence and people seemed to step out of his way without realizing it. He didn’t seem to notice anyone but me as we headed into the restaurant bearing the island flag.

We were quickly led to a cozy table in the corner. As we settled into the wooden chairs and opened our menus, our conversation paused easily as we decided what to eat. I hoped Jack couldn’t hear my stomach growling. I hadn’t had much to eat after breakfast other than the piña coladas on the beach and I didn’t think that counted as a true meal. I picked a Caribbean jerk chicken with some sort of sweet potato side, and peeked over my menu at Jack. He was deep in thought as he perused the menu, his brows furrowing gently as he made his decision, but his body looked relaxed in the chair. His eyes were dark in the dim light of the restaurant, but something about them drew me into them like a moth to a flame. He looked up and caught me staring and I felt my face go hot again.

“What?” he asked with a grin. “Do I have something in my teeth?”

“No! No...” I scrunched my face and shook my head. “I am having a hard time believing that you are actually here, that today actually happened.”

Jack looked at me a little strangely, tensing up noticeably. I realized that I sounded a little crazy and quickly added, “It’s not every day you save a man from a heart attack. On top of that, I had an amazing four-hour long conversation with a complete stranger. This doesn’t exactly happen in my normal life.” With that, Jack seemed to relax back into his chair.

“Isn’t that what vacations are for? To have experiences that you don’t usually have in your everyday life?” he asked putting his menu down. I bit my bottom lip before answering.

“I suppose so. Vacations are for experiences we don't usually have in our everyday lives. Most people don’t get to lounge around and eat bonbons all day, so that is a vacation for them. I don’t usually save people’s lives and meet handsome strangers who take me to dinner, so that’s my vacation,” I said.

“Ah, so you think I’m handsome then?” He grinned impishly at me and leaned back in his chair. I felt my cheeks heat again and I hoped the lighting was dim enough so it wasn’t too obvious. I could feel his eyes searching my face, waiting for some reaction.

“I should have known better than to stroke your ego,” I said, shaking my head. I hoped he would find it coy and not see the embarrassment all over my face. He laughed, a boyish sound that made me want to laugh too.

“You have a magic about you, Emma. I believe every word you say, and I rarely believe anyone,” he said as he leaned forward. His eyes caught the light from the small candle on the table and reflected in a million shades of brown and green. I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t want to. He leaned back and released me from the spell of his eyes. “So, tell me why you want to become a veterinarian,” he commanded.

I relaxed, glad he had changed the subject. “It’s something I have wanted to do since I was a kid. I love animals,” I answered automatically. It was the answer I gave everyone who asked.

“There is more to it than that. You have something more driving you than simply ‘I love animals’,” he said.

My smile faded from my face. “When I was a kid, my dog got hit by a car. He ran out in the street to chase a ball I had thrown. I held him in my arms as he died, and I didn’t know what to do. I promised myself that I wouldn’t let that happen again.” The words came out of my mouth before I had time to take them back. I never told anyone that story. Ever. It was too personal, showed too much of my weaknesses. Somehow, he had gotten it out of me without even a hesitation.

“That is a much better reason,” he said quietly.

“No one believes that I’ll be able to do it. I’ve always gotten good grades and done well in school, but for some reason, no one thinks I’m ever going to be good enough,” I said looking at my napkin. He was somehow drawing answers out of me like water from a well.

“No one thinks I am going to be able to run my father’s company as well as he did. I’m afraid they might be right,” he answered almost more to himself than to me. For a brief moment, the facade of complete control and confidence he emanated faltered.

“That's exactly how I feel,” I whispered. Our eyes met and we both smiled. We shared a secret now. Only it didn’t feel like a secret. It felt like us saying out loud the truth we both knew in our hearts. As I looked across the table at him, we had no secrets. I knew I could tell him anything.

“Tell me a secret,” I said. He blinked twice and then frowned slightly.

“Why?”

“Because we’re strangers. Haven’t you ever noticed that people can tell a complete stranger something they would barely admit to themselves? It’s because there is no judgment and no life consequence. I can tell from your fancy phone and nice clothes that you belong in a place like this.” I waved my hand around at the expensive decorations of the resort. “I don’t belong here, and when this week is over, I will be going back to my boring, discount-brand life. When we go back to our real lives, we won’t accidentally run into one another on the street or at the supermarket. You can tell me anything, and there will be no consequence.”

“I wish I could believe you,” he said. His lips pressed together and he aged in the dim light. “There is always a consequence. Always.”

“I give you my solemn promise to never breathe a word of any of our conversations to anyone without your permission,” I said smiling. I wanted to know more about him; anything and everything. He eyed me carefully, obviously weighing my promise in his mind. He wanted to trust me, but something was keeping him in check.

“What would you like to eat this evening?” a young waitress interrupted politely. Jack kept looking at me, trying to decide if I would actually keep my promise.

“I’ll have the jerked chicken please,” I told her, handing her my menu. She wrote it down on a slip of paper and turned expectantly towards Jack.

“The special please,” he said handing her the menu. He smiled up at her before asking, “Can I borrow your pen and paper?”

The waitress frowned for a moment, surprised by his request, but she shrugged and gave him the next blank page from her small notebook and the pen. He thanked her and she smiled and went to place our order.

“What are you doing?” I asked as he began scribbling on the paper. He finished quickly and handed me the now full page and the pen.

I, Emma LaRue, hereby swear never to reveal any part of this conversation with Jack Saunders to anyone without his direct, written permission.

The words were hard to read in his messy handwriting, but I understood the message.

“With handwriting like that, you should have been a doctor,” I said as I examined the words. “I want to clarify the conditions first. It only applies to things said at this table and you have to sign the same promise on the back of this paper.”

Jack grinned and nodded. I bent over the tiny paper and signed it, then turned it over and duplicated the words on the other side before handing it to Jack. He signed it with a flourish and stuck the paper in his pocket.

“I wish I didn’t have to run my father’s company. I wish I could get out of his shadow and be successful in my own right,” he said slowly, his eyes glued to my face, waiting to see my reaction.

“Do you want to tell me what your father’s company does?” I asked, feeling a little confused.

“If you don’t know, then I don’t want to tell you,” he said with a smile. “It is too refreshing to not have to talk business.”

“Okay. You want to get away from your father. That isn’t much of a secret,” I said, unimpressed.

“It would be if you knew him... Alright, I’ll give you a better secret.” He paused, thinking about it for a moment. Suddenly, his eyes lowered, shame crossing his face. “When I was fourteen, I stole a car,” he said. He smiled when I raised my eyebrows at him. “My father and I were at the country club and we were arguing. I wanted to get away from him so badly I stole a car from the valet.”

“What happened after that?” I asked, intrigued.

“I crashed it. Four blocks away I ran it into a lamp post. My father was furious, but instead of punishing me or turning me in to the police, he paid the owner of the car and made the whole thing disappear. To this day we still haven’t spoken about it,” he said. He picked up his water glass and took a sip, his eyes watching me to see what I was going to say.

“So you’re a car thief? And you didn’t get in any trouble? Why didn’t he make you pay for the car?” I asked, genuinely curious.

“Because, to my father, the image of the perfect son was what he wanted. The car didn’t fit with that image, so he made it disappear. I wish my father had made me pay for it or had me experience some sort of punishment, but he didn’t. He used his money to make everything all better. It’s the story of my life with him,” he said. He seemed surprised at his own words. His eyes lifted back up, piercing into me. “Your turn.”

I thought for a moment. “It’s no stealing a car, but it’s something I don’t tell anyone. Ever.” I frowned. This wasn't something I enjoyed telling people. I knew I could tell Jack though.  It was like we had no secrets between us and I could tell him anything without fear. I knew instinctively that he would never laugh at me or judge me the way everyone else in my life did. There was a sense of safety I had never felt with anyone else that made me want to tell him everything about me. “I was bulimic in high school. Everyone thought I looked great, and it was so hard to stop when I finally had people asking if I had lost weight.”

“Why did you stop?”

“My dad is a dentist. He saw the acid damage on my teeth and told my mom. They never looked at me quite the same again after that,” I said, my voice cracking. I tried to hide it with a sip of water. “I still struggle with it, you know? My mom and sister are these perfect thin stick people, and I'm not. I don’t like the way I look. I don’t like the way my clothes fit, but no matter what I do, it isn’t enough. I know that people look at me and the extra weight is all they see. I lost boyfriend because of it. He said he didn't want to be with a 'fat chick'. I am terrified that I am going to end up alone because of it.” I was shaking a little by the time I stopped talking.

“I don’t see how that is possible. Your boyfriend was an idiot. You are beautiful,” Jack said, his eyes catching mine. He made sure I could see the truth in them as he continued. “I would date you if I met you in real life.” His face held a heat that made my insides start to tingle. My heart skipped a beat and I could feel my knees spread under the table. He thought I was beautiful.

“Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.”

“I mean every word.”

“No one has ever called me beautiful. Other than my dad, but that doesn’t count.”

“Then they are all idiots. Except your dad, because you are beautiful.”

His eyes glowed caramel in the candlelight, full of honest appreciation. The heat in his eyes told me that he found me more than beautiful.

“What are you afraid of?” I asked quickly, changing the subject. The blush on my cheeks was threatening to light the table on fire.

“Spiders,” he answered nonchalantly.

“Spiders. That doesn’t count,” I said, giggling. He smiled at me and shrugged as though he were trying to take off an invisible weight.

“I’m afraid I will end up alone, but in a different way. I don’t have any real friends, at least none outside my work. I’m so busy with my job that I don’t have time to make connections and the ones I do make are tainted by business. I feel like life is passing me by. I’m surrounded by people, but I hardly know any of them and I feel like I can’t get to know them.” He peered into his water glass, sliding the liquid back and forth. “I’m afraid I’m going to miss days like today.”

His hand reached out and touched mine. A spark of desire, want, and need jumped between us. I was sure the tablecloth was going to explode with the current passing between us. He leaned forward, his perfect lips coming closer. I leaned closer, wanting to taste them. The table grew smaller.

At that moment the waitress returned with our meals. The spell we had woven with our secrets was broken. Jack ordered some wine and we settled into our food, our conversation drifting back to mundane topics. We still laughed and conversed easily, but the magic of secret sharing was lost.

We ordered dessert and I was surprised by how easily our conversation continued to flow. I could feel the wine making me laugh more than usual, but it had never been this easy to talk to a guy... ever,... even with much more alcohol than a bottle of wine. I found my hand drifting towards his on multiple occasions, but I kept my fingers to myself. I wanted to touch him and make sure he was real, but I didn't want to scare him away. I wanted to do so much more than just touch him.

The waitress came and refilled our wine glasses several times, but I barely noticed. The wine was delicious, but I couldn’t take my eyes off Jack — the way the candle lit up his eyes, the way he brushed his hand through his hair when he was thinking, the way he looked at me, and how I found myself telling him things I had never told another living soul. Before I knew it, we were the only ones left in the restaurant.

“Would you like to come back to my place?” I blurted out, the wine making me bold. I held in a nervous giggle, but I was sure I looked ridiculous. I certainly felt ridiculous; there was no way a man as handsome, charming, and wealthy as Jack would ever come back with me to my room. Things like that don’t happen to me. Men don’t look at me like that.