Their flight out of Hawaii was scheduled to leave early. Rachel was awake at dark packing her bags when Tag appeared in her doorway, cup of steaming coffee in hand.
“Oh, you’re an angel.” She reached for the mug, but he stepped away.
“You’re drinking this on the beach. Sun’s up soon. Let’s go.” He tipped his head and vanished around the corner.
Groggily, she slipped into her flip-flops and shuffled ahead of him as he grabbed a coffee mug for himself. She opened the door for him and pushed the button on the elevator. In a few short minutes, her feet were sinking into the sand at the shoreline, where there was a reserved pair of beach chairs waiting at the ideal spot.
“Really going to miss this kind of treatment,” she told him as he handed over her coffee.
“You’ll have to come back then.”
With him? She couldn’t reconcile who she thought he was with his behavior. He’d seduced her as hard as he’d wooed her. Her lips pursed in thought. Had she ever been wooed before? Shaun half-assed everything with her. “No need to go out for Valentine’s Day, right, Rach? We don’t need to go out to dinner to know we love each other.”
But she sort of did. Not because she was a princess who needed to be pampered, but because if he’d have made any effort at all, or appreciated hers, she would have felt loved by his actions.
She started to sit, and Tag stopped her with one hand. He plopped into the sand and gestured between his legs. “Sit here, Dimples. We’re doing this right.”
“You don’t act like a billionaire.” She arranged herself and rested against his solid chest.
“I take it you weren’t impressed with the whisking-you-away-to-Oahu-by-private-plane bit? Because I have to tell you, that’s my go-to move.”
“You know what I mean.” She clucked her tongue.
“Having money means getting to do fun things.” He rested his hand with the coffee mug on one knee and leaned in to kiss her neck. “Thanks for coming here with me.”
She reached her free hand behind her to cup his face, his soft facial hair brushing her cheek. “Thank you for asking me.”
In silence, they sat, sipped their coffees, and watched the sun lift over the ocean. Her fantasy was rapidly coming to an end, during a sunrise rather than a sunset. Soon they’d be back to cold, windy Chicago and…and then she didn’t know what came next.
Well, yes, she did. Work at the Andromeda, pound the pavement for a new marketing job, then apartment hunting. She let out a sigh, feeling the heaviness of what was to come.
Part of her never wanted to leave the crook of Tag’s legs, or Hawaii.
He reached forward and threaded their fingers together. “We can talk strategy for the bars on the flight home. Unless you had something else in mind?”
She knew the wicked lilt of his voice when he was thinking of her naked, and she had to admit since she’d met him, she often thought of him the same way.
“You know…” She gave him her weight as she relaxed against his chest. “I think we can fit in both.”
“I like the sound of that.” He kissed her neck and again, the thought of returning to Chicago made her melancholy. “Do we have time to stop by a store to pick up a few souvenirs?”
“Sure. For Bree?”
“Yes, and my cousin. Her wedding is coming up, and I’d like to buy her something unique. She’s getting married at my parents’ house the month after next.”
“Weddings. Yikes.” The statement was throwaway, but for her it dug in like a burr.
“Not one for matrimony?” she asked, frowning.
“No.” His answer was swift and brief. “I avoid any get-together that involves the Chicken Dance.”
“It does get old,” she murmured. It had been on the tip of her tongue to ask if he would be her date, but clearly, weddings weren’t his scene.
“I get invited to a lot of weddings”—a pause while he sipped his coffee—“and I make it a point to avoid them.”
“Didn’t you go to your brother’s wedding?”
He shifted…uncomfortably? “Well, yeah, but I didn’t take a date.”
He’d said that like it was the most obvious statement and Rachel bristled.
“Why not? Surely Reese could afford a plus one.” She was trying not to snap, but her tone had come out clipped.
“It was…you know. The girl I was seeing wasn’t…” He paused as if realizing what he was saying. “Shit, now I sound like a douche.” He took a breath that lifted his chest and pushed her forward a few inches. “Truth is”—he flexed his fingers around hers—“I don’t want to give wrong impressions, and weddings give wrong impressions.”
She turned that over, counting the next three beats of his heart against her back before speaking.
“Makes sense,” she finally said.
“Good. I was burying myself there.” He laughed, back to his at-ease self.
He was a man who didn’t want things to get serious. Not ever. It was a sobering realization, when it should have been a relief for her to hear. With Tag, she’d be in no danger of being asked to stay.
Which is a good thing. So why did it hurt a little?
The truth was, she was damn busy, or would be when she arrived back home. And, she continued justifying, she was in no way ready to settle in with a boyfriend after Shaun—especially one that she’d have to drag along in a relationship.
Living in the lap of luxury would transform back into a pumpkin, and her billionaire prince would find another princess to occupy his time.
Staying had never been on her agenda. She’d come here to enjoy being with Tag and to push her own boundaries. Find her boldness before she launched Rachel 2.0.
But during the quiet times like this one, when Tag’s warmth enveloped her and his lips easily found that spot behind her ear, imagining distance between them became harder and harder.
* * *
After a long but smooth flight Tag unloaded their bags into a waiting SUV in the swirling Chicago snow. The driver, a young guy about half the size of Tag, had tried to help, but after struggling with Rachel’s largest suitcase, Tag had sent her a wink and stepped in.
They climbed into the backseat and Rachel shuddered violently. “It’s freezing here.” Her voice faded into a whine as she laid her head back on the seat.
“You’re zonked,” he observed.
Without opening her eyes, she grunted.
“Kevin, forget that first address. Go to my place.”
“Yes, Mr. Crane. Ms. Foster, there is a vent by your legs if you’d like to adjust the heat.”
The seat shifted next to her as Tag leaned forward. A second later, warm air was blowing on her frozen limbs. She let out a long hum.
She opened her eyes. Wait…did he say…?
“No, I need to go home,” she told Tag. “If I go to your house this late, I’ll fall asleep and won’t be able to leave.”
“Deal.” His slow spread of a smile made her stomach flip.
She should have argued, but she was too exhausted. And he was too…something. Too everything.
“It’s no big deal. I have a big bed. You have luggage.”
She guessed it wasn’t. Maybe she’d been the one hyper-focused on everything between them. Maybe she should chill out. Not hard to do here in the tundra.
“Thanks.”
“Welcome,” he answered. She rested her head on the seat again and closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of his broad palm on her thigh.
* * *
Tag woke his houseguest the next morning by diving beneath the thick comforter. He applied kisses to every inch of Rachel’s body as he stripped her bare, damn near suffocating under the blanket because she complained she was cold.
Soon enough, though, her complaints were muzzled. She’d tossed those blankets off and came—multiple times—under his ministrations.
After Kona coffee at his breakfast bar, she was already working, and on a roll.
“If you push back the bar rather than have it in the center of the two pools, you could create a place for the guests to hang out,” she was saying. “Milling around would be easier if they weren’t in danger of slipping into the swimming pools by taking a step to the left or right.”
She pointed at the drawing with her pen. He could see what she meant. The bar being moved would allow more room for guests who were ordering and, as she’d suggested, offer more seating for guests who already had drinks.
“Even with the swim-up open again, you’ll increase your ability for more traffic if the bar is elsewhere.” She then pointed the pen at him. “And I was right about the setup. Your server’s wells are too far apart. You need one designated area, and preferably one bartender who prioritizes the servers and helps the other two bartenders during downtime.” She put the pen down, fire in her eyes as well as her voice. “Once you have it redesigned, I’m betting you can use this as a template for some of your other hotels. I know Hawaii is a different setup given there are multiple pools, but I think…” She trailed off and broke into a smile. “What?”
He shook his head, dropping his arm from where he’d been resting his chin in his hand. “Nothing. I’m listening.”
“You’re staring.” She tucked her hair behind her ear, fidgeting. Adorably. “Sorry, I’m passionate.”
Didn’t he know it. He hadn’t realized she’d caught him zoning out, eyes on her. Hell, didn’t know he’d been doing it until she pointed it out. He’d been listening to her ideas and watching her draw for the last half an hour, his mind on how perfect their trip had been.
“Reese is going to love your ideas.” He lifted the paper she’d been sketching on and studied it further. “Why’d you leave marketing for the glam life of bartending?”
Her eyes darted to the side. “Just…It was time to go.”
“Why?”
A one-shouldered shrug, then, “Truth?”
“You have to ask?” He raised one eyebrow in challenge. She should know by now he preferred things laid out.
“My ex-boyfriend,” she said after blowing out a sigh of defeat.
“Damn.” He slapped one palm on the counter. “I knew it was his fault.”
“We were partners on a project, and he took full credit for what amounted to seventy-five percent my ideas. Management gave him the promotion I was angling for.”
Tag scowled.
“I know, right? Dick move to pull on your girlfriend. We had a big fight at work. My boss suggested I resign before I was written up and possibly fired.”
Now Tag was pissed.
“Your boss sounds like as big of a dick as your ex.”
“Can’t argue with that.” Her lips twisted.
“So what do you want to do?”
She shook her head, but he could see the wheels turning. She knew; she just wasn’t telling him. What made her keep pulling away? And what made him continue asking?
That was the more concerning issue. Not that it was unreasonable to care about her or what she was into, but the chasing was new.
“Do you see yourself in marketing again?” he pushed, evidently content to ignore his own concerns.
“Not really. I like bartending.” She smiled and looked down at her drawing. “I liked sharing this project with you. It’s been fun.”
In more ways than one.
He held her gaze. She looked away first.
“But joining another corporate circus? I don’t know. Employees can be vindictive. Each out to stomp on other people in their race to the top.” She fiddled with the pen next. “Bartending is one for all, all for one. You band together and do the job. Survive the rush. Make tips. Split the bar so you make sure each bartender is waiting on the person they’ll extract the most money from.”
“Smart,” Tag said with a smile. “Who knew you were such a good player?”
“Am I?” She wrinkled her nose again and he felt all of him lean closer. She drew him to her in every way. “Guess I kind of am.”
“Yeah, I guess you kind of are.” He grabbed hold of her and pulled her closer. Her eyes slid shut and she pursed her lips, accepting his kiss easily.
Tag wasn’t exaggerating about Reese loving her ideas.
He was in love with them himself.