Chapter Three
“Mykonos is the perfect place to find love,” Paul said, attempting to distract Justin as the iconic Kato Milli marked the ferry’s way into the harbor. But not even the view of the windmills caught his attention. There was no reply from Justin. The man didn’t even bother to glance over his shoulder. He stared at his phone, supposedly checking emails, only looking up to scan the deck.
Paul wanted to wrap him in his arms and tell him everything was going to be okay, but they didn’t lie to each other and that wasn’t something he knew for sure. The truth was that within the span of a few hours, Paul’s own problems had multiplied. Not only was he concerned about his uncle throwing away his life’s legacy, but he was seriously worried about Justin being able to deal with seeing Bethany again, and possibly being rejected, again.
No matter how much Justin insisted he was good with seeing Bethany, tension rolled off the typically calm and collected man.
Paul inhaled the fresh sea air, then wrapped his arm around the pensive man at his side, hoping some of his strength and optimism would transfer to Justin.
“Babe, stop checking email. Take a freaking break. You can’t miss this view. It’s like the windmills are welcoming us home.” And even though Paul was sure Justin was still preoccupied with Bethany, he gave him major credit for pretending, almost convincingly, to shift his focus back to City Wings work issues and their original reason for visiting the island.
“Agreed,” Justin finally said, looking over his shoulder. “We should’ve sent someone to Mykonos for City Wings. We could have made the Valentine’s Best Place to Find Love competition a three-way. Kat, Charlie, and…”
“Our ladies did good. The articles were perfect. And all our goals were met.”
At last, Paul struck a chord and brought Justin out of his funk. They both adored their girls. And they were happy Kat and Charlie had accomplished individual professional goals. And if he were honest, totally honest, his objective had been more than gaining great features.
“Kat had to have her chance with Marko, and Charlie needed to break out of her rut,” Paul said, outlining the true objectives of the Valentine’s contest.
“And your ludicrous, manipulative, and totally unprofessional ploy worked,” Justin said. “Kat and Marko are together and married.” Justin looked at the shore as he spoke and pointed out some of their favorite spots. “Charlie is free of all bullshit and really happy with that hunky barista fiancé of hers.”
“Ford isn’t exactly a barista, but he is crazy for Charlie,” Paul said, happy that Justin was smiling again. “It’s all good.”
“I agree. You and Marko were over the top devious with the way you set it up. And I don’t think you could have gotten away with such a scam if Kat and Charlie weren’t friends and more than professional acquaintances. But it worked.”
“Sometimes you need to get creative to help your friends,” Paul said. “They both got their bylines and more.”
“They’re great journalists, so they would have gotten their bylines anyway,” Justin said. “It’s the more that matters. Kat was always in love with the Frenchman, but the force of that love terrified her. But Marko had balls of steel to last so long without her. I’m so glad, for both of them, that he went all He-Man, stopped pussyfooting around, and made her see the truth. Those two belong together.”
“True. Very true. And how weird is it that Charlie found her perfect match on that cruise?” Paul asked, laughing at how the singles cruise had unraveled the pretty little bundle of nerves. “Straight-laced girl finds love on kink cruise. You know, I would have hand-picked Ford for her if I had known him.”
“Yes, he unleashed the beast in Miss Prim and Proper,” Justin said, shaking his head. “He gets her, identifies with her uppity upbringing and history, and knows how to deal with her in order to make her realize what she wants.”
“They’re a perfect fit,” Paul added, considering how well the couples complimented one and other.
“Like us,” Justin said, settling his arms around Paul’s waist and pressing his torso against his chest. “We fit.” He leaned in and touched his lips to Paul’s in a soft but strong kiss. “Fuck, I love you.”
“I love you,” Paul echoed, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss, wanting to reassure Justin that he was with him in every step of life. He had his back. Would always have his back. No matter what came their way.
Broad shoulders lifted and Paul felt Justin’s smile against his lips. “Maybe I’ve already found love—”
“Or love found you,” Paul offered, running his palm down Justin’s chiseled bicep, all the way to his hand, and interlacing their fingers.
“Doesn’t matter. The point is I have love,” Justin said. “So maybe I can do a spin-off of the girls’ articles and try my hand on writing a piece featuring Mykonos as a romantic getaway? This place has magic. The light. The energy. Love pulses in the damn air here.”
“Yeah, that’s rather poetic,” Paul said, hesitant to encourage Justin, even if it kept his focus off what looked like a doomed rekindling with the woman he wanted back in his life. He went for easy-going and carefree. “Maybe you should keep to your spreadsheets, number magic, and leave the writing to the professionals?”
Paul had seen his man’s attempts at writing, and either the articles were flat and boring, or embellished with imagery and big words. It would be professional suicide and City Wings would take a huge hit. The readership would tear them apart for publishing flowery prose and have a field day with it on social networks. He shook his head and prayed he didn’t need to elaborate.
“Whatever,” Justin grumbled.
Paul touched his lips to the side of Justin’s neck in order to hide his smirk and keep from making a smartass remark. He knew this newfound desire to write about romantic getaways was because of Bethany. Their reunion had done a number on him. He also knew what the woman had once meant to him. No need to poke at old sores.
The ferry entered the port, and he singled out the quaint homes, with brightly painted wooden doors, occupied by friends. The labyrinth of narrow whitewashed streets in town held some of Paul’s favorite places on Earth, and he was itching to get on land and start convincing his uncle to keep the resort, but first he had to address Justin’s pain.
“I’m sorry Bethany hasn’t shown,” he said, tempering his own concerns.
“Kind of expected. She was spooked. We’ll wait for her at the café. Hopefully, she’ll come and we can drop her at her hotel on the way to the resort. We can even go to the bakery together.” Justin searched the deck again, just like he had for the past hour, but Bethany was nowhere to be seen. “She loves honey, so she’ll love the Mykonos cheese pie. You know, the special one that sweet grandma makes for us with the honey inside. And she’ll fall in love with freddo cappuccinos.”
“What’s wrong with a classic frappé?” Paul was relieved, but at the same time concerned, that Justin was talking about it, so he tried to keep the conversation light. He chuckled and stepped around Justin, giving his shoulders a playful squeeze. “I promise we’ll stop at the bakery on the way to my uncle’s.”
“Good,” Justin said. “But you know it’s not as cool to drink a frappé as it is to have a freddo cappuccino. Need to get with the times. Frappé is passé.”
Frappé is passé? Since when did his traditional and ultra proper man speak in rhyme? “Screw that. If I want a classic frappé, I’m having it.”
Justin laughed and shook his head. “You’ve always liked what you like.”
“That’s true,” Paul agreed. “I like my frappé, and I like this place. I get to share the two with you. What else could I ask for?”
“I can’t believe Kosta is considering giving this up.” Justin’s face turned sad, and Paul knew that in spite of spewing all that stuff about supporting his uncle, Justin really didn’t want the resort sold either.
“He won’t,” Paul mumbled. “I won’t.”
“Land of hot sun, hotter sand, and hottest opportunities. I’m going to miss it,” Justin said.
“We’re not going to miss anything. We’re going to remind Theo Kosta how much he loves this place,” Paul said, knowing that his uncle Kosta had an insane love affair with the resort. The man had built buildings with his own hands, landscaped the grounds, and poured his heart into every nook and cranny of the physical structures.
“I’m sure your theo remembers,” Justin said.
“The first step is to get him to admit it. Then we’ll implement new practices that will allow the resort to run with a minimal amount of overseeing. There are devoted and capable employees that can step up to more responsibilities with the proper training. Once all that’s done, he’ll forget about letting a huge conglomerate ruin our place.”
“You can’t dictate his future. It’s not right, so don’t force it,” Justin said.
“Sounds familiar,” Paul retorted, recalling what he’d said about forcing Bethany to accept them. “Good advice.” Advice Paul knew neither of them would follow.
Since he’d only just met her and his instant attraction for her was physical—fuck it, it was pure lust—he’d been able to think with his brain once she’d left them alone. And once the long-term reality of the tempting Bethany had really sunk in, he’d made a conscious decision to dismiss the possibility of what he knew would be a very satisfying tryst.
It was unlikely that he’d be hurt by a fling. But he didn’t want her hurt. He didn’t want Justin hurt. If she ever did show or call, they’d need to find a way to be friends.
Caution played in his mind, and his thoughts meandered back to the resort.
“Look at the hustle on the port,” Justin said, seemingly calm and collected. Maybe, just maybe, he really did believe things would work out.
Trucks backed up to the loading area, island shuttles lined the street, and the cafés emptied of the local innkeepers waiting to collect new guests.
“It’s amazing how Chora can have so much traffic around it and still look so picturesque,” Paul said, deciding he had to trust Justin on Bethany and not obsess on how he’d handle it. Justin was smart, strong, and rarely wrong. Paul would concentrate on what he was good at: their business, the local industry, and family. “I know it’s one of the most popular party destinations in the world, but there is something so comforting and homey about it.” The ship bumped against the dock and he widened his stance to brace himself. “It has a unique energy.”
“I feel it,” Justin agreed, rubbing his hands up and down his arms. “And I’m not just talking about the wind whipping into my pores.”
“It’s extra gusty today.” Keeping an arm around Justin, Paul leaned down and reached for his backpack and heaved it on to his shoulder. It held both of their laptops and a booster for the WiFi, just in case. But he still felt the wind at his back. “The meltemi winds are the reason the windmills were so genius and successful throughout history.”
“The Venetians were smart to harness that energy. Made life easier,” Justin said, leaning over the railing and peering into the water. “And today, damn if the meltemi doesn’t make the heat on the beaches enjoyable, gusty or not. The sun sizzles on your skin. The breeze cools you down.”
History and meteorology aside, Paul knew he was coming home. He also knew there was no way he’d let his uncle sell the resort. “I spent many summer afternoons on those winding paths,” Paul said. “Good memories.”
“Paradise for sure.” Granted, Justin hadn’t enjoyed the place to the degree that Paul had, but they’d spent hot and sultry afternoons on the beach—Paradise, Super Paradise, and “their” beach. The nights were even better. Justin rubbed his tight butt against Paul’s groin in an obvious attempt to get his mind off the sad possibility of the sale. “You going to promise me at least one night of hedonistic pleasure before we lose ourselves in work?”
“Promise,” Paul replied. “Tonight is all ours. No resort talk. Just you, me, and the beach bar of your choosing.” He tightened his hold around Justin’s finely sculpted abdomen and held him against his chest, pressing his mouth to Justin’s neck. He inhaled the familiar scent and closed his eyes.
“Justin, I’m sorry that things didn’t go as smooth as they could have with Bethany. Are you okay?”
“She’ll come around,” he said. “I know she will.”
What was Justin expecting from the woman? She’d jumped at his touch and shrank from his attention. She’d even looked to him, a stranger, for understanding. And Paul hated to admit it, because he felt like he’d betrayed Justin, but she’d found it. He felt the tension. He even felt the attraction. Trying to establish a new type relationship would be awkward.
“Are you okay?” Paul repeated.
“I really am. I’m not worried about Bethany, if that’s what you’re thinking. It’ll work out,” Justin said. “I just wish we were here on vacation and not to help facilitate the sale of the resort. It’s not going to be fun. You’re not going to be in a good mood. And there will be stress galore with your uncle if you push it.”
“I’d never push anything on him he doesn’t want. But I will try to help him remember why he chose to make a life here in the first place. And we’ll come back.” Paul said. “Maybe later in the summer. He won’t sell. So we’ll be back for more fun, and next time, under better circumstances.”
“I didn’t hear that.” Justin turned and curled firm fingers over Paul’s shoulders. “You’re going to make yourself sick trying to make it happen when we both know that it’s going to be difficult. Plus, the timing is bad. We have too much going on in New York, and we can’t stay past the next release of City Wings. This summer is too close for a return trip.”
“I didn’t really have a say in the timing. I had to come for Theo Kosta. He’s always been there for me, and it’s my turn to be there for him.”
“I know. I get it,” Justin said. “And it’s not about the short timing. I’m concerned we left things up in the air. We have a business to run and a magazine to get out.”
A life to live.
In spite of Justin’s attempt to minimize his objection, Paul heard the unspoken words and wanted to argue for a life, a summer life, on the island. But they’d had that discussion before they’d left home. Justin, even more so than Paul, didn’t want to change their life. He liked the carefree existence that allowed them to grow professionally and enjoy personal time. In truth, they had it good.
“The July issue is ready to go, and August’s is under control. Plus, we have a competent staff,” Paul insisted, thankful Justin was back to business mode.
From the looks of what was going on, he was going to have a bad case of emotional whiplash over the next few days.
“We can do all of our daily tasks electronically, and we can oversee production from anywhere in the world. I’ve already checked to make sure the internet connection at the hotel is up to par. It’ll be okay.”
Encouraged by Justin resting his linked hands in the small of Paul’s back, Paul rubbed his thumb over the dark stubble shadowing the handsome face he loved.
They needed a break, and they needed each other.
The rapid growth of the millennial-based travel publication had consumed too much of their time, placing their international travel plans on the back burner. It had taken his uncle’s call for help for Paul to book the flights. The hotel needed to be properly presented to the Luxury Homes Away From Home executive—regardless if Paul didn’t want the sale, Theo Kosta was more than considering it. And if Paul couldn’t convince his uncle to hold on to the property, he’d damn well do his best to protect his uncle’s interests.
Since losing his wife, Kosta Lallas carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. Paul would see if new procedures were needed for the operation of the resort. Then maybe his uncle would not feel it necessary to sell. The resort, Vaso’s Dream, would still be his…theirs.
“Don’t think so hard. It’ll be okay.” Justin consoled Paul.
Whiplash.
“I’m over the bad timing. I’ll get Bethany to come around. All will go well. We’re here, and it’s sinfully gorgeous, so let’s get to your uncle, settle our asses in the room, and deal with the rest as it comes.”
“That’s why I love you, Justin. You see the light in every situation. You’re so fucking good for me. You being here means everything to me.” He made a silent promise to schedule their return for a real vacation as soon as possible. “I’ll make it good.”
“I know you will. And no matter what you’re thinking, I do want to be here,” Justin said, giving him a handsome grin.
“Because of Bethany?” Shit. That sounded catty.
“No. And yes. I’m happy she’s here.” Justin kept grinning, clearly having grown comfortable with the situation. “Trust me when I say you’ll like her. And no, because you’re kind of stuck with me…always. I go where you go. I’ll take advantage of your determination to win your uncle over and set up the office while you try to convince him. When the sun goes down tonight, I’ll hold you to the promise of a hedonistic night. Actually, we could spend the majority of our time here in the same pattern. Work in the daytime. Party at night.”
“I’ll do my best.” Paul immediately regretted saying that, because it bordered on one of those lies they never told each other. He feared doing his best wouldn’t be enough. They’d be too exhausted to party much. He met Justin’s gaze and once again silently vowed to make the most of their situation. “Any special requests?”
Justin’s fingers held tight and he leaned into Paul, sealing their lips in a long passionate kiss with a different kind of promise. Paul immediately reacted, grinding himself against Justin and deepening the kiss.
“Thank you,” Paul said, sucking Justin’s tongue into his mouth and swirling his own over it. “I’m going to thank you properly the moment we get to our place.”
“Holding you to that,” Justin said, bringing his mouth to his ear. “By the way, I like your appreciation best when you’re on your knees.”
“Fuck me.” Paul groaned, adjusting his jeans as his erection swelled.
“That’ll work, too,” Justin said, surprising Paul. “I live to please.”
Damn. Sweat beaded on Paul’s brow and his heart hammered in his chest. “Babe, anything you want.”
While their sex life had always been good—phenomenal actually—Justin rarely made the first move or took control. When he did, he commanded complete surrender. It was one of the few times Paul was able to lose himself. He relished the times he bottomed.
“Remember you said that, Paul.”
“Anything,” he repeated.
“Good.” Justin inclined his head toward the staircase, which led into the ship’s belly. “You get the car. I’ll check the cabin for anything left behind. Meet on the pier.”