Last Call (34 page)
She sniffed and nodded. “Yeah, but you won’t
be here in the office. Your life is in Anticue now, and I’m afraid
you’ll eventually fade away.”
“I’m not going anywhere. Besides, I’ve signed
on to be a consultant for the next six months. I won’t be here all
the time, but I will be here some.”
As far as they could tell, Max hadn’t done
anything else as horrific as trying to blow someone up. But there
was a lot of harassment and bullying in order to convince
landowners to see things his way.
Gavin didn’t know how Cynthia and Max’s
marriage would shake out, but as far as Holden Enterprises went,
Max was permanently out of picture. Regardless of the legalities,
and whether or not he served jail time, he was still out of a
job.
Gavin agreed to step in as temporary CEO
while Cynthia and the board of directors found a permanent
replacement. The new CEO started two weeks ago, and Gavin was more
than happy to turn things over and get on with his life in
Anticue.
Callie took a deep breath and eased out of
Gavin’s embrace. “I expected you to be here all day. I was hoping
we could have lunch.”
He glanced at his watch, then eased off his
desk. “Sorry, I can’t. I have a meeting with Kevin Mazze, the
builder who’s going to help me with the renovations on the
restaurant, in an hour and a half. Robby’s moving to ECU this
weekend, and I also promised him and Sunny I’d be home early to
help with that.”
Callie took a step back and crossed her arms
before averting her gaze.
“Hey,” he said, touching her chin and turning
her face so he could look her in the eyes. “I’m always a phone call
away; you know that. And you and Jason are coming to Anticue next
weekend, right?”
She smiled and nodded. “We’ll be there.” Then
she crinkled her nose and said, “I don’t have to go out onto the
beach, though, right?”
He laughed. A few remnants of the old Callie
still lingered. “Nope, you don’t have to go out onto the beach.” He
lifted the box and headed toward the door. “But be sure to wear
some work clothes…” He turned to catch her shocked expression and
added, “If you have any work clothes, that is. If not, wear
something old that you don’t mind getting paint on. There’s a lot
of work to be done.”
“Wha…” Callie’s words died off as she yanked
the strap of her purse higher on her shoulder and ran after him.
“You’re kidding, right?”
Gavin leaned into the push bar to open the
stairwell door and winked. “See ya next weekend.”
He left Callie standing at the top of the
stairs, mouth hanging open, still trying to decide if he’d been
teasing or not. As he jogged down the steps, he felt lighter than
his mostly empty shoebox. Between getting the fishing pier ready to
open and moving his grandfather to Anticue—something his
Grandfather insisted on doing so he could be a part of reopening
the pier—Gavin had more than a full workload ahead of him. But he’d
never enjoyed life more, and the future had never been brighter
than the one he and Sunny faced.
The Heat Wave series are loosely connected
books that all take place in coastal locations, mostly in North and
South Carolina. The characters in Book #1 are different than those
in Book #2, but in Book #3 there will be a merging of the two that
will continue throughout the series.
Oh man, not the strawberry… not the
strawberry… Aw, shit.
Erik Monteague clenched his jaw and steeled
his defenses against the impending carnal assault. The laughing
guests, jazz band, overflowing food tables—everything at the
Sinclair Marketing Group open house faded into the woodwork as his
field of vision narrowed down to ruby lips and the damn lucky
strawberry about to be sucked into them.
Her pink tongue flicked across full, luscious
lips, then scooped a bead of chocolate from the bottom of the
large, ripe fruit. She opened her mouth, slid the berry inside, and
wrapped her lips around it.
Good God Almighty.
Erik shifted his
stance and stifled a moan. “I can’t believe I’m jealous of a piece
of fruit.”
A familiar chuckle pierced his lust-filled
haze, causing his pinpoint vision to snap back to wide-angle view.
From the corner of his eye, he spotted his best friend, Steve Vex,
making like a bartender, serving up a beer.
“What’s up?” Steve asked, laughing.
The smirk on Steve’s face proved the question
was rhetorical, so rather than answering the jackass, Erik swiped
one of the beers. “Perfect timing.”
“Yeah, you looked like you might be
overheating.” Steve tipped his bottle in
her
direction and
hitched his chin. “I’ve never seen her before. Who is she?”
Who is she?
Erik stared at Steve for a moment, perplexed
by the simple question. It shouldn’t have required much thought,
but Erik, always a straight-shooting, tell-it-like-it-is kind of
guy, found himself hedging.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and
squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ward off the explosive memories
of her and their night together.
Her mouth—warm and slick—wrapped tightly
around him…
Her beneath him, bottom lip caught between
her teeth in an effort to hold back her screams… Her mouth dropping
open to gasp for air as she cried out her release…
Him waking and reaching for her, only to
find himself alone…
He swallowed hard and scrubbed a hand down
his face. “I don’t know who she is,” he said, somewhat truthfully.
After all, just because you knew someone intimately didn’t mean you
knew
them.
Steve quirked a pierced eyebrow. “Yeah, I
think I’m going to have to call bullshit on that.”
At times, having a friend who was closer than
a brother was a true blessing. This wasn’t one of those times.
“Sometimes you’re a real pain in the ass.”
Steve’s lopsided grin grew to obnoxious
proportions. “Yep,” he said, “it’s something I live for, especially
where you’re concerned.” He took a sip of beer and waited. And
waited. And when Erik didn’t elaborate, he pressed the issue
further. “Seriously. What’s the deal?”
Erik took a long drink of beer, then studied
the floor and fought the urge to shuffle his feet like a teenager
being grilled by a suspicious parent. He and Steve had been friends
since the first day of kindergarten, when they’d both gotten into
trouble for standing underneath the monkey bars, sneaking peeks up
the girls’ dresses. In their twenty-seven-year friendship Erik had
never kept anything from Steve.
Until now.
Unwilling to analyze why he wanted to keep
her identity, or the scope of their relationship, private, when
he’d never worried about that kind of thing before, he grinned
slyly and said, “My friend, we have shared many things. But
whatever I might know about her, I’m keeping to myself.”
“Damn.” All traces of amusement dropped from
Steve’s face, and he whistled low. “That sounds serious.”
Erik bristled at what he suspected could
maybe, possibly be a spec of truth, if he allowed it to go that
far. But he recovered quickly and turned it into a joke. Nailing on
a smile, he said, “It is.” He took a moment to enjoy surfing the
shock waves rolling off his friend before adding, “Serious lust.
You know, the kind that results in sex that’s mind-altering, not
life-altering.”
Shit. The instant the words left his mouth,
he knew he’d taken the sarcasm too far. He’d left an opening big
enough to drive a truck through, and, as expected, Steve barreled
in. “Dammit, Erik, it’s been ten years. When are you gonna let it
go and move on?”
Erik rolled his head in a circle, attempting
to loosen the muscles in his neck and shoulders that’d suddenly
snapped into tight bands. They’d had this conversation too many
times to count, and he didn’t want to have it again.
Not tonight.
Not ever.
Rather than delve into the past—a past he
couldn’t change or forget—he directed his attention across the room
to something much more pleasant.
Kat.
He chuckled as he considered for the first
time the possibility she might have given him a false name. That
would certainly explain why, on all of his subsequent trips to
Charlotte and multiple attempts to find her, he’d come up
empty.
The name fit her so well, he found himself
hoping she hadn’t lied. Tall and lithe, her movements were fluid
and graceful, like those of a cat. And when stroked just right, she
damn near purred. He scowled. She’d also crawled under his skin and
become a constant source of irritation—like cat scratch fever.
He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned
against the wall, studying her. She looked different than she had
the night they’d met, and at first glance, he thought his mind was
playing tricks on him. But the more he watched her move through the
crowd, mixing and mingling and interacting, the more obvious it
became. Her conservative business suit couldn’t hide her tempting
curves or disguise the way her body moved with a natural
sensuality.
She still screamed “sex,” and he still wanted
her to the point of aching.
His stomach—and khakis—tightened as more
unwelcome memories of her unbridled passion assaulted him. Her
green eyes, locked within his gaze; her black hair falling across
his chest while she rode him to oblivion. He’d almost forgotten all
the reasons he avoided relationships and nearly professed true love
that night.
It was probably for the best that she’d snuck
out on him while he slept. It had prevented him from doing
something foolish. Like falling for her.
“Hey, Romeo.”
Startled from his thoughts, Erik jumped. The
wicked gleam in Steve’s eyes set Erik’s nerves on edge, and his
irritation flared. “What?”
“I hate to wake you from your wet dream, but
Elise has been watching you watch… whoever she is. And now Elise is
headed this way.” He laughed and slapped Erik on the back. “You’re
on your own with this one, brother, I’m out.”
Shit.
Erik closed his eyes and gulped his beer,
wishing he had a keg tapped straight into his veins. There wasn’t
enough alcohol in the world to make Elise Winstead tolerable, and
the only reason he tried to be civil was out of respect for their
mothers’ friendship.
Elise stopped in front of him, crossed her
arms under her large, surgically enhanced breasts, and pierced him
with an icy look recognized by males from every corner of the
globe.
Rather than play games or dally around, he
decided to get straight to the point and be done with her. “What do
you want, Elise?”
“Nothing, really.” She pecked a talon against
her cheek. “It’s just that… Well, I couldn’t help but notice your
interest in my competition.”
Despite his desire to stay aloof, Erik felt
his eyebrows rise in surprise. How could Elise and Kat be in
competition for anything? One was like a Rolls Royce: compact with
overdone curves, high maintenance, and pretentious as hell. The
other—he flicked a glance to Kat—was like his Harley: sleek,
commanded attention, represented wild abandon, and provided the
ride of a life.
“Competition?” he asked, hesitant to
encourage further conversation, but curious enough about Kat’s
presence at SMG to risk it.
“The new account executive Rusty hired.” She
looked at Kat with a truckload of disgust. “She’s from a big agency
in Charlotte, and she’s got ninety days to prove she’s better than
me.” She snorted. “As if.” Mumbling more to herself than speaking
directly to him, she said, “I just don’t understand why she’d leave
a large agency to come here. Something’s fishy.”
Erik suspected he knew why Kat left her old
job, probably for the same reason she’d been in that bar drinking
the night they’d met. But no way in hell would he arm Elise with
that kind of ammunition against Kat, or anyone else for that
matter. If she was going to be a seething boil on someone’s ass,
she’d have to do it without his help.
“What’s her name?” he asked, pleased to hear
he’d managed to sound casual and only moderately interested.
“Kat Owens.” Elise shuddered. “Appropriate
really—I hate cats. They’re sneaky and nasty.”
As if sensing she were the topic of
conversation, Kat began scanning the crowd while continuing to pick
at the food on her plate. Her gaze skimmed past Elise and settled
on Erik as she took a bite from another strawberry.
Her eyes widened and she froze in place,
strawberry stem caught between her finger and thumb, half of a
berry sticking out of her mouth. It would have been humorous if his
nerves hadn’t been skittering along a razor’s edge of
irritation.
And if she hadn’t started choking.
He’d already taken three steps in her
direction when she grabbed her water goblet and managed a few sips.
The coughing subsided and she appeared okay, so he forced the
tension from his body and resumed his relaxed stance against the
wall.
When she glanced at him again, probably
hoping he’d been an apparition or a figment of her imagination, he
tried to smile. But the question that had plagued him for so
long—
Why’d you run out on me like that?
—turned his smile
feral.
Her shoulders sagged as she dropped her gaze
to the floor, then slipped her feet into her previously discarded
shoes.
Elise tilted her head to the side and stared
at Kat as she hustled to a small group standing nearby.
Shit.
He could see the wheels in Elise’s conniving mind
turning and smell the rubber burning.
“Well, that was… interesting.” She turned
back and studied him, steady and unblinking. “Do you know her?”
With Steve, he’d felt guilty for fudging the
truth and had needed to justify his evasion. With Elise, he had no
problem flat-out lying. “Nope. Should I?”