With the sails up and drawing, a good ten to fifteen knots southerly wind had them up and moving quickly as the boat gently leaned in and found her stride. Tacking back and forth, he headed upwind back toward the marina. The boat essentially steered herself requiring mild tension on the steering wheel and needed only the slightest touch to keep her on course.
Sully wished the same easy touch applied to him—and his flipping heart. Holy shit, he was tense and nervous, his palms sweaty in a way that had nothing to do with the Florida heat. For some reason, Harper was making him anxious and excited and uncertain. All characteristics that were foreign to him.
Perhaps he was intimidated by her obvious career success. She had continued in her brainiac endeavors after high school and had actually contributed something to society. Whereas he… Well, he was just a singer. Frivolous entertainment. They weren’t in the same league at all.
Not that he regretted the choices he’d made. He didn’t. Singing was what he was meant to do. He made people feel good. He allowed them to let go of their everyday troubles and just enjoy music.
It’s just that, well, oil and water didn’t mix. He rolled off people in passing; she was the necessary element needed to survive. He laughed to himself that he’d thought of them as a science-related analogy, even if it was cliché.
Did she even know he made his living singing? He’d enjoyed listening to her so much earlier that they hadn’t talked about what he did.
“Ok, I’ve become a sailing fan,” she said, jerking him back to reality. “It’s so quiet and peaceful.”
“Exactly. Plus, I like that the sailor actually controls the process. How well someone handles the sails changes the experience dramatically.”
“Hmm. I’d say you’re pretty good, then.” She pressed her lips together as if she would say more, but didn’t.
“Thanks. I like to get on the water as often as possible.”
When they reached past the breakwater and approached the marina, he tried to eke out every last drop of enjoyment of their ride before getting back to reality.
As soon as the boat was tucked into her slip, Harper called her friend—evidently the owner of the boat she was using—and filled him in, letting him know she was safe but the boat would need maintenance.
“I’ll call you as soon as I know what the problem is,” she said into the phone before disconnecting.
“The marina office is this way,” Sully told her, pointing as they walked in the proper direction. Then he nodded toward where her boat was tied up. “Looks like they made it back before we did.”
Harper adjusted her satchel over her shoulder. “I hope it’s an easy fix.”
They strolled along the wooden walk, the sound of their steps echoing off the weathered boards. The harbor office, a bait and tackle shop with snack concession space were in the white building straight ahead. When they reached the door sporting the sign Mimosa Marina Office above it, he motioned for Harper to enter before him. Robert’s assistant sat behind the counter, sipping a root beer from a glass bottle.
Barefoot Bay always did have a way of suspending time, Sully reminisced.
He wrapped his knuckles on the counter. “Hey, Josh. Any update on the Sundancer?”
“No,” Robert said, answering for Josh as he came up behind the front desk. “The mechanic had already left for the day by the time we returned. I’ll have him look at it first thing in the morning,” Robert said. “It looks like you’re going to have to spend the night here on the island, miss. And we unfortunately don’t have shore power—all those slips are taken.”
“Oh great. So staying on my boat isn’t an option? Nothing will have vacancies at the last minute.”
Robert frowned. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Sully jumped in. “I’m sure we’ll find something. I’m staying at Casa Blanca Resort & Spa. We’ll start there.”
“Right. Okay.” She looked at Robert. “You have my cell number and information. Please let me know when you hear anything.”
He nodded.
“Thanks, Robert.” Sully waved and escorted Harper to his car. He checked his watch: 6:00 p.m. He had two hours before he had to be onstage. The owners were good friends of his and this was a special gig he did for them. Something he’d started years ago before he’d “made it.” “Let’s go see what Lacey can do for us.”
“Lacey?”
“Oh, sorry. Lacey Walker. She owns Casa Blanca.”
Harper raised a brow. “You’re on a first-name basis with the resort owner?”
They both slid into the car and buckled up. “Yes. She and her husband Clay are awesome. Very friendly people.”
Her head fell back against the head rest, appearing a little relieved.
“What?” he asked. “You thought I had a thing going on with the owner?”
“Yes. No.” She grimaced. “I guess I was just thrown back to high school for a minute there.”
“Point taken. I suppose I was a real jerk back then.”
She gave him a silent stare, as if she wasn’t willing to add a comment.
He got it, though. As a teen, he had thought he was God’s gift to girls. They liked him; he liked them. His years in college and then in LA had softened him in that regard. In California everyone was talented and good-looking. Besides, he’d mellowed with age. Now he saw the superficial crap for what it was—crap. Other things were more important. It was much better to hang with friends and family than be worshiped for fame and fortune.
“I think you’ll like the resort. It’s very low-key, everyone keeps to themselves, and there’s a lot of privacy. There are events available for guests who want the activities, but for the most part you’re on your own. Just peace and quiet.”
“Yes, peace and quiet is what I was going for.” A dreamy expression of longing swept across her face.
Sully tensed, an ache forming in his chest. Would she be upset if he kept her from her solitude? He didn’t want to go yet. He wanted to get to know her a lot better.
* * *
Harper got in the metallic-blue Camaro convertible, and Sully trundled the top down. Now that was an awesome touch, she had to admit.
She tried to relax as they drove, the wind blowing through her hair. But the ride wasn’t nearly as serene as the sailboat, and she couldn’t help the tinge of resentment that her vacation hadn’t gone as planned.
Her boat ride hadn’t resumed as expected. She was not docked at a secluded island free of automobiles and noise. And she was not alone. Over half her allotted vacation time would be gone already by the time she got to her intended destination—if she got there. And most disconcerting of all, she’d been rescued by an old heartthrob. She flinched at the sound of that word in her head.
He’d barely known she’d existed in high school, so the romantic imagery was completely one-sided, of course. She’d made a fool of herself back then, and she had no intention of repeating the mistake.
“Barefoot Bay has almost everything you could want,” he said as they drove.
“Solitude?”
“I’m sure it does. I’ve just never searched it out. I get that out on the boat.” He flicked a glance at her and smiled.
“Yes, I know what you mean. That was my plan, too.”
They drove past a baseball complex. “Gee, they even have a training facility?” she asked, surprised.
“Nice, huh?” He navigated a few curves in the road before turning down a long, elegant drive with a sign pointing to Casa Blanca Resort & Spa. “A little bit of everything, like I said.”
“If this place is as terrific as you say it is, then there won’t be a vacant room.”
“We’ll worry about that bridge when we come to it,” he said with a hint of the southern drawl that used to make her knees weak.
He pulled the car up to the main entrance, put it in park, and swiftly came around and opened her door. A small bubble of warmth floated through her at his thoughtfulness. She swept her hair behind her ear and eased a step away from him, feeling a little nervous. He didn’t seem to notice as he reached in the trunk to get her carry-on-sized bag. The valet attendant offered to take it, but Sully declined. He tossed the guy the car keys instead.
As they walked into the lobby, Sully slid his hand over the small of Harper’s back, his fingers brushing along her spine. She tried not to notice. It was no doubt a commonplace touch for him, but certainly not for her. As a matter of fact, it made her painfully aware of how deprived she was in the intimacy department. That sort of closeness simply hadn’t ever been important to her.
Or maybe she just hadn’t met the right person.
As soon as the thought flew into her mind, she squashed it. She knew it could be true, but that’s because she didn’t date often. And group dating didn’t count. She had a bunch of friends and colleagues who got together regularly on weekends. They enjoyed hiking and boating, parasailing and drone flying, restaurant hopping. But the When Harry met Sally kind of dating? No.
And right now, she wanted to stop dead in her tracks and concentrate on the luscious feeling of his hand on her back. Instead, she kept placing one foot in front of the other until they reached the check-in counter.
She swallowed a sudden spurt of anxiety.
A receptionist approached them with a bright smile. “Good evening, Mr. McGlamery. How may I help you?”
“My friend has found herself unexpectedly having to stay the night on the island. Do you happen to have a room available?”
The woman twisted her lips to one side. “Hmm.”
Harper watched as the clerk went through the motions of checking, but her expression said she already knew they were full. Most likely she’d been asked the same thing by numerous people over the course of the day.
“I’m sorry, sir. We don’t have a single room.”
Sully tensed, and Harper placed a palm on his arm. “It’s okay. I can find another place, or even look on the mainland.”
Sully glanced over his shoulder at the clerk, thanked her, and guided Harper off to the side of the lobby. She was thankful he didn’t make a scene. Which was exactly what the younger Sully would have done.
“Look,” he said in a low tone, “I have a three-bedroom villa. You’re welcome to room there.”
“Three bedrooms for one person?” Harper inquired, not really expecting a response, but at the same time wondering why he would need so much space. She shook her head. “No, I don’t want to impose.”
“I didn’t suggest it earlier because I didn’t want it to seem like a come on,” he explained. “But under the circumstances, I think it’s the practical thing to do.”
She skipped right over the “practical” comment and circled back to his “come on” remark. A flush crept up into her cheeks. She couldn’t recall anyone ever using that term in connection with her. She angled her head back and stared at the gorgeous three-story-high lobby ceiling. An image of him tossing her on the bed and making passionate love to her flickered through her mind. Harper gasped audibly. She couldn’t believe the outlandish detour her thoughts had just taken. She brought her chin down, looking off to the right and avoiding eye contact with Sully. She could tell he was looking at her funny, though. She did, after all, just gasp for no apparent purpose.
“You’re right, of course,” she said. “Reason dictates you have a perfectly good room I can make use of.”
“Exactly.”
She finally looked at him. Their eyes met. “Thank you,” she said, her voice sounding husky even to her own ears.
He made a soft throat-clearing sound. “Good. Now that that’s settled, shall we go?”
His beachfront villa was tucked in the back of the resort, a ways from the main building. Once inside, Sully gave her a quick once around the stunning space, including the private screened pool.
“Oh my gosh, this place is unbelievable. A perfect getaway.”
He showed her to her bedroom, then disappeared out the door saying, “I have to do some work. Go ahead and make yourself comfortable, order room service, whatever you’d like. I’ll catch up with you later.”
A little dumbfounded, she nodded. Much to her embarrassment, she realized they hadn’t spoken much about him at all today. He kept turning the conversation back to her. She didn’t even know what his occupation was or if and where he went to college. She promised herself she’d find out.
In the meantime, food sounded good. But a shower seemed even better. She stood beneath the forceful spray for what felt like hours. Afterward, she dressed in a loose shift. It went to the ankles but was more like something she’d wear over a swimsuit than anything else. But she hadn’t planned on being in public—or anyone’s company, for that matter.
She walked over to the bed and let herself fall back against the plush mattress. She was exhausted. Maybe she’d close her eyes just for a few minutes…
* * *
Harper awoke and glanced at the bedside clock. She’d been asleep for an hour. Good heavens. Slowly, she rose and padded through the suite, realizing Sully wasn’t there. With a shrug, she put on a dab of lipstick and mascara, grabbed her purse and headed out the door. Ordering room service would take a while, so she decided to forgo that and check out the dining room.
She had a spring in her step as she made her way to the main building. The nap had revived her, even if it was accidental. She entered the dining room, and music immediately found her ears. Someone was singing, and he had an absolutely fabulous voice. It sounded like it was coming from the bar. Unable to resist, she headed toward it and found a table near the small stage. As she sat, the performer seemed to be between numbers. Good, she didn’t interrupt his performance. With a flick of her hand, she snagged a waiter to quickly order some chicken fingers and fries, and a martini. A meal she rarely got at home in Baja.
Then the music came up, the lights came on, and the singer moved center stage. He began to sing again, and Harper turned to follow the magnificent voice. When her eyes settled on the singer, she inhaled sharply.
Sully occupied the stage with the command and presence of a seasoned performer. Her heart fluttered and raced. My God, he was terrific—handsome, charming, and his voice could melt a girl’s heart.
Her mind raced back to high school. He’d been talented then, but nowhere near this good. But she hadn’t really known him. She’d had a few classes with him, and yes, they had taken chorus during the same class period, but the infatuation she’d once had with him had been mere puppy love. She’d only known him from afar. And she’d been hurt and angry when he never noticed her. But why would he? He was popular. She was a geek.
She watched him onstage now. Every note, every expression was full of passion. This was what he was meant to do.
The selection of songs he chose was all over the place, from Bon Jovi to Elton John to old Frank Sinatra ballads. Maybe some original work because she didn’t recognize some pieces. But given the way she didn’t keep up with today’s music, she wasn’t sure.
When the waiter brought her food, she jumped as he set it on the table. She’d been so enthralled she hadn’t even noticed the man approach. She munched on her food as she listened, grateful she hadn’t ordered anything complicated. Nothing to draw her attention from Sully.
When she’d finished and relaxed back with a fresh martini, Sully launched into the intro of a new song. This time he traveled in her direction. As she sipped her drink, his eyes met hers over the rim of her glass. He winked. She gasped and then coughed as liquid slid down the wrong way. Her face warmed as she recovered.
His tenor voice was rich and full as he sang a remake of an old classic, “Dream A Little Dream Of Me.”
Suddenly, it seemed as if he sang to her…just for her. It didn’t matter if the bar area was packed or not. The timber of his voice vibrated against her chest, making her feel a way she’d never felt before. A mushy sensation settled in her stomach. It reminded her of a marshmallow toasting over a fire, all oozy and melting and sliding off the stick into the flames. That’s what her body felt like. Boneless. Hot. As if he were touching her with his hands and not just his eyes and voice. Her breaths came in quick, shallow bursts, and a flush of perspiration clung to her shirt.
Taking slow steps, he moved closer and closer to her. His gaze mesmerized her as he held out his hand. She swallowed. Did he want her to take it?
Hesitantly, she placed her hand in his. The words of the song washed over her as, inside, she secretly swayed like a swooning teenager.
This was simply part of the show, she told herself. She’d seen performers engage with the audience in a similar manner before. She couldn’t explain why he’d chosen to do it with her, but the crowd seemed to be eating it up.
She drew her hand back as if she’d been burned. He stood and moved to his left, still watching her. He took his time turning his attention to the audience as a whole.
When he did, Harper exhaled the air from her lungs. Would she have felt this way if it had been anyone other than Sully McGlamery? Dammit, she didn’t think so.
He sang a few more songs, and then his set was finished. The MC thanked him and proclaimed some of Sully’s accolades, announcing his upcoming performances in Las Vegas and Rockefeller Center this coming fall.
Surprised by the list of high-end venues, Harper’s brows rose. Wow. Good for him.
After a slight bow at his waist and a final wave to the audience, Sully ambled over and took a seat next to her. A few lovely women tracked his progress as he strolled up to her table and parked his oh-so-sexy body in the seat across from her. Harper could see the appreciation in their stares. And something more… Interest? Disappointment that he hadn’t visited their table? Maybe even resentment? Whatever the women emitted, it was new to her. Other women didn’t usually ogle the men she was with.
A glimpse from her teenage days surfaced in her mind. Sully had been in a rock band, but it had only accounted for part of his popularity. The rest was pure Sully.
“I’m glad you got a chance to eat,” he said.
“What about you?”
He shrugged. “I don’t eat when I sing.”
“Well, you did great,” she said with a shy smile.
“Thanks.”
“I’m embarrassed we never got around to talking about you earlier today. I didn’t realize you were a star.”
“I’ve had some good luck.” He got to his feet. “Come on, let’s go back to the villa and away from the noise.”
She grabbed her drink and walked alongside him. Wow, wasn’t this a one-eighty? Tonight she was the one leaving with the hunky popular guy. She promised herself not to let it go to her head. This wasn’t the real thing, just make believe due to circumstance. He couldn’t have feelings for her, or vice versa. Their lives were worlds apart. Not literally, of course—Baja wasn’t that far from Los Angeles—but they couldn’t be more different.
As they walked to his villa, she tried to muster up some of the anger and hurt she’d felt toward him back in their high school days, just to get some distance, but even that failed. It didn’t matter any longer. She wasn’t the same deprived girl she’d been then. She was a mature, confident woman now, and she didn’t need to have a flashy boyfriend to show off.
Actually, she’d given up on that sort of thing altogether.