Island Heat (10 page)

“Oh, my god,” was the first drawled sentence Kevin heard from Troy as the door to the dessert bar opened. His best friend practically swayed into the bar and let the door close behind him as he sauntered up to the counter, looking across and into the kitchen where Kevin was baking. “Last night was
epic
.”

Kevin tried not to laugh. Until recently, he and his best friend had been opposites: Troy took home or went home with men several nights a week, while Kevin had thought he was straight but had never even considered hooking up with anyone – man, woman, or otherwise. It just hadn't been a priority.

Until Eli.

God, the man was
gorgeous
, and utterly different from any other man he'd met – or at least taken note of. He would never have been able to explain to Troy what Eli was making him feel. It was more than just the thrill of sexual attraction for the first time, or the willingness to waste minutes and hours being romantic for the sake of it. There was a kind of bond he just couldn't describe.

Troy, on the other hand, was perfectly capable of describing his exploits. He tended not to go into
too
much detail, but now and then...

“Gay sex is actually the best. I tell you, you're missing out,” Troy grinned, obviously expecting Kevin to laugh and agree.

Kevin shook his head fondly. “Why's that?”

“We did it, like, four times,” Troy grinned. “You wouldn't believe it. And he was so good. Like, he knew how to use his mouth...”

Kevin held up an oven mitt-covered hand. “Nope, that's the limit right there,” he laughed.

Troy grinned and sidled around the counter to grab his mixer and spirits list and start taking inventory. “Seriously, you're here all summer. You should try it sometime. We can find you a nice, sweet man who wants to buy you lots of nice things and slip you one – or take it...”

Kevin laughed again as the timer went off, trying hard not to think about how Eli slipped it in last weekend. It had only happened a few days ago, but he was already itching to try it again. He didn't know if it had been a fluke or if he was genuinely that interested in him, but fuck, it had felt
good
. He'd barely been able to keep himself from bragging the next morning.

And they were meeting at Eli's house for lunch tomorrow. The way Eli had looked him up and down, the way he'd pulled him and kissed the fuck out of him... He'd been deliberately winding Kevin's nerves up to leave him on edge and desperate for more.

It had worked. Thursday couldn't come fast enough.

“Anyway,” Kevin pointedly laughed. “I'm starting to wonder – remember last night, the table of Greek tycoons?”

“Oh, yeah,” Troy chuckled. It was hard to forget them. They'd pounded back Troy's classy, beautiful, and
expensive
cocktails like they were cheap shots in a college bar.

“Well, they said we should come back next summer.”

“It's a little soon to be deciding that! If we're even offered a spot.” Troy looked thoughtful now. “You want to come back?”

“If it keeps making money at this rate, um,
yeah
,” Kevin answered emphatically. “Dude, a few summers of this and we could open up anywhere we wanted.” Their lease only ran for the summer on Ember Isle, and then they'd have to move back to Chicago and figure out their next steps. If they made enough to pay back their business costs here plus their housing and personal costs, anything above and beyond was theirs to keep.

Several successful gourmet food businesses had launched from originally being conceptualized and launched on Ember Isle. Being invited to open a business on this kind of an exclusive island was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Good thing they'd been looking specifically for a dessert bar that year just before Troy had secretly applied. Apparently, Kevin's attractiveness had outweighed the fact that Troy had reported him as straight.

That hadn't lasted long. He had barely stepped onto the wharf before bumping into Eli.

He blushed at the thought of their first meeting as he automatically pulled the second tray of tarts out of the oven and set them aside to cool.

“So,” Troy said in the tone of voice that meant he wanted to bring something up, “you don't mind coming back to the gayest island in all of creation?”

“For enough money,” Kevin bluffed. Secretly, there was a part of him wondering if Eli came here every year, but... he couldn't say
that
. Even if Troy knew about them, it was ridiculous to want to spend two summers here with him based on one week of breakfast dates and one night.

“Fair enough,” Troy laughed. Before he could say anything else, the door to the dessert bar opened and they both glanced over.

It was a petite, blond man – Seth, the owner of the ever-popular dance club Chrome just down the street. There were only a few businesses that were invited to return year after year and reopen the same storefront in the Main Street business district. From what they'd heard, Seth's was one.

“Hey,” Kevin greeted, slipping his oven mitts off to join Troy behind the bar. “How's it going?” They didn't know any of the other owners too well yet – well, Troy probably knew
some
of them in a certain way, but not professionally.

“Good, thanks. How'd you like your first week here? Crazy, huh?” Seth leaned on the counter with a smile.

“Oh, my god, was it ever,” Kevin agreed with a little laugh. “We got absolutely rushed over the weekend. Even last night was pretty crazy.”

Troy nodded. “We're going to need to hire a guy to help... within the month, if we keep doing this well. Does it usually slow down?”

“No,” Seth answered. “You get more diversity in the first two weeks as everyone arrives and explores to find their favorite spots, but these guys have no other job or responsibilities, you know?” he laughed. “They'll find their favorite spots and keep coming back every single night.”

Kevin swapped a glance with Troy. If they kept making money at this rate, well... they could probably afford a better apartment in Chicago, to say the least. Tips alone were ludicrous. Millionaires dropped the best tips, followed by billionaires and then the rest of the rich; famous guys tipped a little more, probably to look good. He and Troy pooled the tips separately from their actual business income to see how much of a difference that made to their bottom line and how much they'd lose from hiring a third person.

“That's really good to know,” Troy smiled. “Thanks.” Kevin could hear that Troy was wondering what Seth was here for. Their mentor, Rube, had worked at just about every good gay club and pub around the world and shared plenty of information and insights into statistics, trends, bar and club analytics, and more, but this was different: this was a potential rival sharing business information with the new guys.

“No problem,” Seth answered. “I heard from Rube that you guys are doing good.”

“Oh yeah?” Rube mentored every new bar and club here, and apparently the established ones, too. They shared sales figures with him, plans, new menus, everything; in exchange, Rube helped everyone boost their numbers as much as possible. In short, he was responsible for getting every possible dollar from the rich clientele. In exchange, he ensured they had as good a time as possible by challenging the business owners to offer world-class service that would meet expectations.

“Apparently, you guys exceeded the profit expectations the most of any of the new businesses over the weekend.”

Kevin's heart raced as he straightened up. He felt a glow of warmth from the rumor that he knew Troy had to be feeling. “Wow. Really?”

“You're turning heads,” Seth said simply. “If you know what I mean.”

Kevin did: there were probably jealous people around. Not many of the other guys came over to talk to them, but he hadn't thought much of it. Everyone was busy.

Seth offered, “You guys want to come over for lunch Saturday at my apartment? I'm at the Palms complex.” Most business owners were in complexes that were luxurious compared to any normal place to live, but cheaper than the mansions rented to customers here.

“Oh, us, too,” Kevin smiled. “What number?”

“Thirty-one,” Seth told them and nodded. “Come by around noon.”

“Sure. See you then,” Troy waved as they saw Seth out. Once he was gone, he turned to look at Kevin and raised his eyebrows in a silent question:
What was that about?

Rube was due any minute, so Kevin didn't want to get into heavy speculation and seem like he was gossiping but he nodded. “I think it's a good opportunity.”

“Yeah. Me too.” Troy wiped down the counter while Kevin cleaned the kitchen, each of them lost in quiet thought until Rube arrived.

“So, I've noticed you've been out of the house a lot.”

Eli glanced up over his lunch at his best friend. Dean was always busy hooking up and trying to delay having grown-up relationships as long as he could. He'd expressed his distaste for romantic relationships and romance on numerous occasions, but he fully supported Eli in trying to get another one.

“Yeah, sometimes. So are you,” Eli laughed. “Especially at night.” He tended to go home early while Dean stayed out late to make sexual connections with men and then bring them back to their place. It seemed that included Kevin's best friend, Troy.

Dean laughed, polishing off another few bites of pasta. “Fair,” he admitted. “I mean, in the mornings, though.”

“I get up early,” Eli shrugged. “I used to, when Tom got up early for set... habit stuck.”

Dean eyed him. “It's been a while now,” he told Eli, clearly not fully believing his story yet. “And you're always out, too.”

“I don't want to run into you and some hot thing in a drunken post-coital stupor on the living room floor,” Eli answered as dryly as he could manage.

Dean burst out laughing and nearly choked on his pasta, grabbing his hard lemonade to swig a few chugs and wash down the bite of food.

“Don't choke,” Eli laughed. “It wasn't that funny. It's true.”

“When have you
ever
encountered me and a man in post-coital... bliss... on the floor...?” Dean challenged.

Eli hummed. “It could happen.”

“Come on,” Dean grinned. “Tell me where you go.”

“I've just been going out for walks,” Eli admitted. “It's hard to sleep in in the mornings. I mean, you know... it's stupid, but...” When he hesitated, he noticed that Dean was quietly watching, waiting to hear the end of the sentence. He sighed. “It's a big bed by yourself.” That was much was true: both getting to sleep at night and lying in for the morning were weird now.

Dean looked sympathetic now and a bit guilty for pushing the topic, clearing his throat and shifting. “Sorry.”

Eli smiled to reassure his friend. “Hey, it's fine,” he assured him. “I'm not, like, sobbing every night over him. He fuckin' screwed me, so...”

“Screw another guy,” Dean advised him. “It'd make
me
feel better. But, I know, you're all about the tender feelings...”

Eli chuckled, rubbing his ring finger. It still felt too light sometimes. “I might be ready to date sooner than I thought,” he admitted.

Dean stared and set down his lemonade, pushing his empty plate back as he leaned back in his patio chair. They were sitting outside to enjoy the warm afternoon view of the ocean from the shade of the canopy. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Eli confirmed. “But at my own pace, with the guy I choose. I don't need anyone setting me up,” he assured his best friend.

Dean held his hands up for a moment. “Okay. Sure. If you
do
want help, you know... let me know. But I'll let you figure it out.”

Eli smiled. Dean
was
considerate and he cared a lot about him. He could have a much worse best friend. They'd known each other for so many years now that they could often interpret each other's emotions or read thoughts in social situations from a simple glance.

Still, somehow, there had never been a hint of romantic tension between them.

Eli was glad. He needed a man who wasn't going to find a younger, hotter version of him and fuck him behind his back. He needed someone to look out for his best interests as much as he looked out for Dean's and told him when he was making a tremendous mistake – usually when Dean got involved with the wrong guy in a friends-with-benefits arrangement. For billionaires, that person wasn't always easy to find.

“I've got to go talk to a few people,” Eli told Dean, leaning in over the table to clap his arm. “I'll be staying in again this evening.”

“Oh, come on,” Dean wheedled. “There's a great party on the beach. A beach roast.”

“No,” Eli answered with a smile. “I'd much rather be here with a book tonight. It's still going to take time to adjust.”

Dean accepted his answer with a nod. “If you're sure. Come on down if you change your mind.”

As Eli left, he felt Dean watching him get his shoes on to head down the hill from their mansion into the nearby town center. He'd never been more thankful to have a friend who didn't ask too many questions when he needed to keep something – like a blossoming romantic relationship – to himself.

***

“Tom Jones? You mean – your fiancé?” the handsome young blond behind the counter of the rental office asked. The office was air-conditioned and it had lush green plants set around the space to make it feel richer, yet aesthetically cool as well. The staff members were impeccably dressed and there was a free cool beverage machine in the lobby. It felt like the kind of place that would frown upon flip-flops or shorts.

The late afternoon sun shone through the darkened window near the back of the building, and Eli was already aching from walking around town all afternoon. He wasn't in the mood to banter playfully or flirt with the clerk. “Yes,” Eli said simply. “I need to know if he's checked into a place here, or rented one at all.”

The young man cleared his throat. “Well...” He typed a few phrases on his computer, glancing between it and Eli. “Normally we wouldn't divulge personal information like this to someone else, but since you're related...”

“Thank you,” Eli answered automatically.
Not anymore.

After a minute, the blond man – Cory, his name tag said – looked up at him. “No, I'm sorry. I've searched extensively and I can't find him in the system for his year at all. He definitely hasn't rented a place here, and he's not listed under anyone else's rental. Not even yours.”

Eli smiled slightly. “Okay, thanks. I'll take care of that later,” he waved a hand dismissively and strode out of the office into the early evening island heat. Of course, he wasn't adding Tom to his lease, but he didn't want to let that on yet.

He knew for a fact Tom hadn't been planning to come here this summer. Tom hadn't been in touch since the breakup, and his reps hadn't called either. If Kevin really had seen Tom and not someone else lurking outside Eli's house, Tom was getting creepy to the point of being dangerous.

But nobody seemed to know if he was actually there or not, except for Kevin's sincere word – which he'd repeated twice since – that he'd seen him, not someone else.

Eli believed him. Tom had always been the type to get absolutely fixated and not let go. The idea of Tom lurking in bushes and peering through his living room window was laughable, but nothing said he couldn't be hanging around to get word from others on what Eli was doing.

Eli had assumed Tom would fixate on Jon or some other more fuckable guy, whoever he could find, and let him go. A nagging voice in the back of his mind told him not to assume as much, though. Something was up, and he couldn't yet figure out what it was. Tom's reps should have contacted him to discuss legal matters of property ownership before they announced the split, at the very least.

As he let himself into his house, he glanced around. “Hello?”

No answer, which meant the beach barbecue was probably already underway. He smiled to himself in relief and headed to the fridge to find the meal left there for him from their chef's visit. Being alone was never a problem for him.

After he ate, Eli walked upstairs to his bedroom and out onto the balcony to read a book on his e-reader for a little while, growing absorbed in what he was doing for a long few hours with only intermittent breaks to stretch his eyes and neck.

It was only when he noticed darkness creeping in around him that he looked up, finally freed from the reverie of the story. He liked these quiet evenings, but he had to get to bed if he wanted to be well-rested for tomorrow's visit with Kevin.

After returning his e-reader inside and pushing his chair to the side of the balcony, he took a moment to lean against the railing and watch the moon start to peek up over the horizon. The evenings here in the tropics were stunning without the pollution of most American and European cities. Sunrises and sunsets were glorious. The stars started to peek out at dusk and brightened throughout the evening until they were surreally bright by the small hours of the morning.

It was only glancing at the moon that made him pause, his eyes drawn to the water instead. There was one possibility he hadn't even thought of, and now that it occurred to him, it seemed ridiculously obvious: Tom wasn't renting a place on land. He'd brought his yacht.

No sooner than the chilling thought occurred to him did his eyes land on a familiar shape with a sharp, long bow and unnecessarily ornate rigging.

It was Tom's yacht. He could place it even miles away from the shape alone; he'd spent enough time on and near it.

Eli's heart sank as he realized what that meant. For some reason, Tom was staying here but trying to avoid attracting his attention. He was probably asking people not to tell Eli he was there, and god only knew how he was managing that. Eli's private haven, the beautiful little island that had brought him so much lighthearted fun and healing over the past week, had been invaded.

Could Tom see him from this distance? It didn't matter; he raised both of his hands to flip off the yacht with every ounce of the disgust and anger he felt burning through his chest now that he was confirmed to be lurking around for no good purpose.

Fucker. One way or another, he was going to find out why Tom was here and drive him out.