What Janie Wants (3 page)

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Authors: Rhenna Morgan

BOOK: What Janie Wants
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Excellent. Then say you’ll meet me at the pool for your first cocktail too.”


I think that’s pushing it.” Yep. The one-raised-eyebrow glare was a killer.

No ring on her finger, so that was promising. He’d still have to get past the young man thing. Kinda made him feel like he should be in knee breeches. “Just offering you the benefit of a well-seasoned traveler in Mexico.”

She smirked and hefted her bags higher on each shoulder. “Your uncle’s right. Your swagger might be wounded, but your suave is just fine.” She glanced at Arlo bustling behind the check-in desk. “You’ll let him know?”


Anything for a valued guest.” He motioned down the empty hallway. “Go get settled. Read the rest of the stuff in the folder and let me know if you see something you want to do. I’m usually around.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Sometimes I’m at the beach, though.”


Ugh.” She tapped him on the shoulder and cast an exasperated scowl at him as she took off down the hall. “Suave indeed.”

God he’d missed that. Giving a beautiful woman who didn’t realize she was beautiful a different lens to see herself through. Hands down, it had been the best part of his work. And then he’d gone and screwed it up.

He hobbled to Arlo and the new set of guests gathered round the registration desk. He’d figure out what to do with his business. That’s what he’d come here for. And while he was at it, he’d spend a little extra time making sure Janie McAlister saw how amazing she was.

Non-compete covenant.
For a period of two years after the effective date of this Agreement, Zade Painel will not directly or indirectly engage in any business that competes with Boudoir International. This covenant shall apply to the geographical area that includes the state of Texas.

 

Damned legalese. Zade flipped the page on the contract hard enough, it nearly ripped free of the staple at the corner.


You’re looking too hard.” Arlo set a neon yellow tumbler full of fresh-squeezed orange juice in front of Zade and swiped a worn dishrag across the bar. “Dahlia told you you’d find the answer when it was time. And what are you doing up this early, anyway? You never leave the bungalow before eleven.”

With the shade of the thatched poolside bar and the steady ocean breeze, the mid-morning climate wasn’t bad. Under Mexico’s direct sun in August, anything past nine was a challenge. “I was inspired to catch the sunrise?”

Arlo huffed and hunkered over his daily inventory clipboard. “More like angling for another round with Ms. McAlister.”


Since when do you use last names with the guests? Her name’s Janie.”


Janie, is it?”

Zade laughed and chucked a wadded up cocktail napkin at his uncle. “If you knew what got me up so early, why’d you ask?”


Got you out of scowling at your contract, didn’t it?”

Well, hell. For a scrawny guy without a lick of experience with kids, Arlo was a pretty sly dude. “So, did she show for breakfast?”

Arlo lifted his head only enough to meet Zade’s gaze from under his sternly pinched eyebrows. “You should watch yourself with her. Your aunt says she’s been through a rough time and came here to find herself, not end up twisted into knots by a camera slinging Don Juan.”


Yeah, well, I’m not slinging my camera anymore, am I?” Not for a period of two years in the state of Texas, which was mighty inconvenient since that was precisely where he lived. God, he’d been an idiot to ink that deal. Or, more accurately, to believe the people he’d sold his business to would carry on with what he’d started the way they were supposed to. “And just because I photographed them in their bedroom doesn’t make me a Don Juan.”


No, but I’ll swear you came out of the womb seducing women. Must’ve gotten extra pheromones or something because the nurses couldn’t keep their hands off you. I thought your dad and I were going to have to restrain your mother to keep her from killing a few of them who tried to hog you for themselves.”

Zade shrugged and sipped his O.J. “Yeah, well, if I’ve got something special, it doesn’t work on all of them.”

Arlo straightened from his list and waggled his pencil. “So, that’s it.”


What’s it?”


Janie.”


What about her?”

Arlo grinned and ran this thumb through his mustache. “She shut you down.”

Hell, yes, she had. The term “young man” had ping-ponged around in his head for way too long last night, though he’d short-circuited the bad juju with a wicked fantasy of a certain redhead and a white-knuckled orgasm that had left him light headed.


I’m glad.” Arlo yanked open the stainless steel bar fridge and scanned the contents. “A challenge is just what you need to forget about that whole business deal. If you can unwind a little, you’ll find a solution. But remember what I said about Janie’s situation.”

Women shrieked and loud splashes sounded from the pool. Four women fussed and swiped water off their perfectly oiled bodies as their male counterparts surfaced from the churning water. At the center of the cannon-ball brigade, a lanky dark-haired man shook his head like a dog and splattered a woman perched on the pool’s edge who gave another ear-splitting shout.

Devin and his college entourage. They were nice enough and came in handy for beach sports, but acted closer to twelve than twenty-two. How they’d managed to coordinate, book, and travel together without getting lost was purely a miracle.

Janie probably had him lumped in the same category. A challenge, indeed.

The men’s guffaws trailed off and a few of them straightened to their full height, shoulders pushed back. Every eye was aimed opposite their slim and trim cheering section.

Janie.

Damn. No wonder Devin’s posse had puffed up and thrown down their best caveman poses. Unlike the neon string bikini-clad women poolside, Janie wore an ivory one-piece. Classy, and though simple, it emphasized her killer curves and lifted her generous breasts up for male exaltation. With a see-through matching sarong draped around her hips and her hair piled on top of her head, she was an outrageously fuckable work of art.

She sashayed around the chaotic college crew and aimed toward the quieter side of the pool in full sun. Adjusting her movie star sunglasses, she scanned the lounge chairs.

Nope. None available that wouldn’t put her smack between other guests. Great when you were up for meeting new people, not so much if you were after peace and quiet. Considering the death grip she had on her beach bag, he’d bet conversation wasn’t on the agenda.

She paused, surveyed the pool’s perimeter, and re-directed herself to the towel cabana off to one side.

Oh, hell. He’d appreciated her perky ass yesterday, but paired with her softly tanned thighs today, he wanted to do a whole lot more than appreciate. More like bend her over, stroke the back of her thighs and—


What’s she doing?” Arlo’s voice slashed through his fantasy.

Towel tucked under one arm, Janie meandered through the shade of the tall palm trees lining the far edge of the pool area, this time checking the rowdier side for any isolated loungers.

Zade shifted on his barstool and adjusted his semi-aroused dick. “Not sure I care, as long as she keeps walking.”

She moseyed to one lone chair near the pool steps and began unloading her bag.

A fat spray of water arced from the pool’s surface and sliced across Janie’s shoulder. She shot upright, the
O
shape of her mouth a testament to the water’s coldness.

The girl who’d inadvertently splashed Janie jumped on her boyfriend’s back and shouted over one shoulder, “Sorry!”

Janie waved the apology off and cast the girl an understanding smile. “Not a problem.”

The hell, it wasn’t. She’d already tucked her bag back in place and backed away from the lounger.


They’re going to run her off.” Arlo tossed his rag down and hustled from behind the bar. “I knew better than to run a college special. They’re all wrong for our resort.”


Hold up.” Zade hopped down from his stool and motioned his uncle back behind the bar. “Three more days, and they’re gone. They’re filling what, half the rooms? That’s enough to keep your staff paid up through high season.”


It won’t matter, if they ruin the experience for potential return customers.”

Janie ambled away from the pool down the wide stamped concrete path toward the lobby. The woman had perfect hips. Made for a man’s touch and attention.

Zade clamped a hand on Arlo’s shoulder and winked. “Well, then. I’ll go see if I can’t compensate any discomfort Ms. McAlister might be feeling with a little one on one personalized experience.”

 

 

Nine in the morning and less than an hour from a shower, and Janie already felt wilted. God, Mexico in August was hot. Emmy wasn’t just insane. She was a sadist.

A young couple exited the shadowed lobby hand in hand. The girl’s swimsuit barely varied from those at the pool, although the mango color sure worked a lot better than the blatant neon selections the others had worn. It was like they all went to the same stylist—string bikini, beach blond hair, and belly button ring. As soon as she got home, she and her daughter, McKenna, were going to have a nice long reminder talk about the importance of self-image.

The couple padded closer.

Oh, to be that thin again. Without wrinkles and defiant of gravity. Janie sucked in her gut and squared her shoulders. She’d thought the few trips to the tanning bed would take the edge off her fair, redhead skin tone, but under the vicious Mexico sun, she looked as white as ever. The ivory swimsuit wasn’t helping. Maybe the girls were right to go with bolder colors.

The couple passed with a twin set of curious smiles.

A few more steps and the lobby’s shade engulfed her, easing the sun’s powerful bite on her shoulders. She should’ve found a lounger in the shade. Surely her mini-tan could peek through there, not to mention camouflage some of her cellulite. A total win-win. Better, if she’d had a good night’s sleep to go with it. Her room was lovely, with lots of bold, beautiful colors and a bed twice as comfy as her ten-year-old king-size back home, but she’d stayed up way too long tossing and turning over the man she’d inadvertently groped and kneed the day before.

Zade Painel. What a name. Though, it fit him.

God, she should be ashamed. He couldn’t be more than a few years older than her son, Thomas. But the way he’d considered her, so focused and interested in every little detail, despite what she’d done to him. And the feel of his warm skin, how solid he’d been, pressed next to her.

Nope. No. No. No. Not a direction her thoughts needed to take.

She snatched a flier off the brochure rack. Time to make the most out of what life had given her. Or, as she coached her kids, reassess and revise.

Tulum and Jungle Maya With Ziplines and Rappelling.

Ugh. In August? She’d be soaked in sweat before she ever got off the tour bus. Although, Thomas would get a kick out of the ziplines and rappelling.

Swim With The Dolphins.

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