Paul

When she returned moments later, she’d thrown on a green and gold swirled sweater that swallowed her slender figure. Amaya pulled two enormous rolling suitcases, a big duffle hung off one shoulder and she carried a little girl’s backpack. He quickly got out of the car and met her halfway, taking the luggage from her. He might have forgotten his manners around women over the years, but for Amaya he found himself holding open her door and helping her into her seat. He probably would have tried to buckle her in as well, if she hadn’t given him an amused look.

Attempting to get himself under control, he walked around the back of the truck. He needed to puzzle out his odd reaction to this woman, to figure out why he cared so much that they were taken care of. He felt...well, he didn’t know how to describe how he felt about the girls, but it was intense. It had to be the kid. Yeah, he’d found Peyton so he’d naturally feel protective of her and, by default, her mother. He wasn’t a bad guy—sure, he could be a little selfish and he had a temper, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have any compassion. Amaya had obviously gotten screwed over on the cottage, and that was partially his fault. He hadn’t been out there in months, too caught up in other bullshit, and he’d assumed one of his brothers had been coming out.

Guess they’d all been assuming that.

He drove down her rutted drive again, easing his way through potholes that made him wince. “Where did they take your car?”

“Um, Tays or Brays, or something like that. I have the card in my purse.”

“I’ll have it brought to my brother Toby’s garage place tomorrow. He’s out of town right now, but his guys will take care of it. You can use the Range Rover until it gets fixed.”

“That’s not necessary. You—”

“It is and I am. End of story.”

“You sound just like your mother.”

Aghast, he stared at her. “What did you just say?”

Pursing her lips in a valiant effort to hide her smile, she gave him wide eyes. “What?”

“You take that back.”

“Take what back?”

“I don’t sound like my mom.”

“Your mother is an amazing woman.”

“My mother, and I say this with all of the love of a son who thinks his mom walks on water, is a flake.”

A giggle escaped before she could assume a scolding expression. “She’s a free spirit.”

“Flaky.”

“Bet you think I’m pretty flaky, too.”

“You were trying to get a four-year-old to meditate.”

She laughed softly and leaned her head against the window, staring at the sky above. “You might have a point. I’m not used to being alone with her on the beach. There’s a big group of people that always does yoga together on nice days in Key Largo and watch the sunset on the beach. The group is mostly locals that have known Peyton since she was born. Many of them have kids of their own, so we all keep a collective eye on the children while we watch the sunset.”

“It sounds really nice.”

“It is, plus I get a lot of clients that way.”

“So you have your own business down in Florida?”

“Yeah. It’s not a huge studio, but we keep busy.”

They reached his house and he hit the garage opener. The bright interior lights illuminated the big space. Moths started to buzz around the exterior lighting and swirled about as he pulled into the garage.

Amaya nodded her head in the direction of his Mustang. “You have some pretty nice toys. What do you do for a living?”

“According to my mom, I’m a bum for a living.”

“What?”

He turned the car off and faced her, resisting the urge to tuck a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. “I used to play professional football.”

“You’re the asshole.” She gasped then her hands flew up to cover her mouth and her eyes got comically wide.

“Did you just call me an asshole?”

“No! I mean, your mother—not that she—we didn’t talk about you and your brothers that much. I mean, she calls all of you something derogatory, but it’s with love. Like Dean the dick. Jesus, please, just shoot me now and shut me up.”

“Mommy?” came Peyton’s voice from the backseat. “Where are we?”

Giving him an apologetic wince, she turned and smiled at her daughter. “Hey, honey. We’re going to stay at Mr. Paul’s tonight. Is that okay with you?”

“Can I sleep with you?”

“Of course.” She glanced over at Paul. “I mean, if you have a bed big enough to fit both of us.”

He had several, but he was gripped by the sudden image of the two of them cuddled up in his big bed, surrounded by his soft as suede chocolate brown comforter and pillows. “You can have my room.”

“We couldn’t possibly—”

“I insist.”

Before she could argue with him, he got out of the car and retrieved their luggage. She unbuckled a sleepy Peyton before hefting her into her arms, the little girl already drifting off and becoming deadweight. They both grinned at each other when she let out a decidedly adult snore for such a little girl.

Paul set the bags down by the door and held his arms out. “Let me carry her. My room is up on the fourth floor.”

Amaya frowned. “I can carry her.”

“I know you can, but if I carry her up four flights of steps, I figure I can cut a mile off my run tomorrow. Gotta keep in shape.”

He smacked his flat stomach, an admittedly blatant attempt to get her attention. Working hard on his body had its benefits, one them being the fact that most women seemed to appreciate a fit man. Amaya’s eyes darkened as they stole darting glances at his frame, almost as if she was afraid to look. When her gaze returned to his, her cheeks pinked up a bit with her blush, but she nodded.

“Okay, only if you’re sure.”

“Believe me, I’m not known for being a nice guy. Just ask my mom. Evidently I’m her favorite asshole.”

Amaya tried to stifle her giggle while she handed off Peyton’s sleeping weight into his arms. The scent of mango shampoo reached his nose as the little girl squirmed against him for a moment before settling again. He looked over at Amaya who was watching him with an odd expression. Shifting the girl’s slight weight, he grabbed the one of the suitcases with his other hand.

Behind him, Amaya laughed softly, “Show off.”

“Wanna climb on for a piggy back ride? Bet I could carry you up as well without breaking a sweat.”

Her voice came out high pitched as she said, “Um, I’ll pass. Wow, your house is amazing.”

The lights came on around them, low enough to keep from burning their eyes but bright enough that it lit up his second floor. Almost the entire place was an open concept kitchen/dining room/living room area with a massive riverstone fireplace and lots of huge windows. Dark hardwood floors were broken up by deep blue furniture set upon rich sapphire and gray geometric carpets. It was a little messy with the remains of his dinner on the massive driftwood table in front of his couch, an empty beer on the bookcase, and dishes in the sink, but his twice a week maid kept the place clean enough.

They didn’t say anything more as he took them up the wide stairs off the kitchen, past the third level where his office and guest bedrooms were, up to the fourth floor. It was smaller than the rest of the levels of the house, but had amazing views of the forest and lake with wide windows everywhere and a wraparound walkway outside. He hesitated before he placed Peyton on his rumpled bed.

“Want me to change the sheets? I only slept on them once.”

“No, it’s okay.”

An odd emotion panged through his heart as Peyton clung then snuggled into him when he tried to release her. Looking up at Amaya, he found her watching him with a small smile as he tried to pry the little girl off. She was freakishly strong for a four-year-old.

“Can I get some help?”

“Blow in her ear, gently.”

He gave her an incredulous look but all she did was grin, a little sparkle of light coming from the tiny diamond piercing that sat in the middle of her dimple. Odd that he’d find that piercing attractive on her. Facial jewelry had always been something he hadn’t cared for on women. Now, other piercings below the neck interested him a great deal and he had to force his mind back to more kid friendly thoughts as he did what Amaya said and blew in Peyton’s ear.

Right away she let go of him and flopped back into his pillows, her soft snores once again filling the air, making him grin.

Amaya picked up a book from his nightstand, the current murder mystery he was into, then murmured in a low voice, “You read?”

“You say that like it’s something weird.”

She flushed. “Sorry, I just—you didn’t strike me as the pleasure reading type.”

“Well, that’s awfully judgmental of you. And here I thought we were friends.”

“It is, I’m sorry.”

She bit her lower lip, obviously bummed out by his teasing and he felt like a dick. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m just messing with you.”

Rubbing her face, she went to the bags he’d placed on the black leather ottoman at the foot of his big sleigh bed and began to dig through them. “Sorry, I’m just tired.”

Thinking about all she’d been through today, he didn’t blame her. “Right, let me leave you alone then.”

She paused as she pulled out what appeared to be a pair of little girl yellow pajamas with bright pink hearts all over them. “I’m not trying to chase you off.”

“Nah, it’s cool. You hungry?”

“I’m good. I think I’m just going to crash.”

Glancing around the room, he tried to think of some reason to delay his exit. “You have enough pillows and blankets?”

She arched a brow and glanced at his bed. “You are aware you have at least a dozen pillows on that thing, right?”

“Just wait. Tomorrow morning, you’ll be singing my bed’s praises.”

Her lips twitched. “I bet women do that a lot.”

Feeling the spark of attraction flare bright between them, he smiled back. “Never had any complaints...but I’ve never brought a woman back home with me so you’re sleeping on an untainted bed.”

Rolling her eyes, she lifted out what looked like a makeup bag. “Right.”

“No, seriously. I’ve never let anyone sleep in this bed before, so it’s clean.” Rubbing the back of his neck, he wondered if she could see the flush burning his cheeks. “I just didn’t want you to worry about it being okay for Peyton to sleep in. You don’t really know me yet, but I’m a man of my word. You can ask my mom, she raised me to be that way.”

Her eyes grew gentle as she said, “I believe you.”

He wondered if she wanted a tour of the bedroom, or if he should explain how the shower was fickle about the right setting, but her yawn and the circles beneath her eyes had him backing off. “Night, Amaya. Situation that brought you here sucks, but I’m happy to have met you.”

A flare of warmth burned in her eyes, and the appreciative way she looked at him made him feel so good, he wished he could bottle the feeling of making her happy in his soul forever.

“Night, Paul. Thank you again. You were really a lifesaver tonight.”

“I’m glad I found her before we lost the light.” She closed her eyes, and he felt like a dick for reminding her about her earlier scare. “Don’t worry, Elvis saved her. He’s going to be smug as shit about it for the next few days, mark my words.”

“The cat is going to be smug?”

“Sure as hell is. Watch, Elvis will strut around with his tail up in the air when he sees you. He’s gonna be unbearably arrogant. Insufferable even.”

“Insufferable?”

The sadness left her face. He felt like he’d won the Super Bowl when she smiled at him, warmth turning his muscles to taffy, making him relax for the first time in what felt like forever.

“You think I’m kidding? Just wait.”

“Right...” Shaking her head with a big smile, she began to slowly shut the door “Once again, goodnight, Paul. Sweet dreams.”

His dick twitched at the breathy way she said his name. Soft and as smooth as a woman’s silky skin sliding over his body. He wanted to hear her moan it while he ate her pussy.

Without any more excuses to stay, he forced himself to step away before she noticed his growing erection. “What do you want for breakfast?”

“You don’t have to bother...”

“I gotta eat, you gotta eat, and I’m betting that munchkin gets pretty cranky if she doesn’t have her usual...whatever her usual is.”

“Actually, Peyton is part goat. She’ll eat pretty much anything she can get her hands on. When she started crawling, I had to sweep every place I put her down or she’d be chewing on everything from dog bones to the remote control. Once we were at a rock and gem show, and she swallowed a very nice, expensive Tahitian pearl. I am now the proud owner of a lovely pearl my daughter pooped out.”

Unable to help himself, he burst out laughing. “Shit, that sucks. Did you have to...search for it?”

“I did indeed, this was in between freaking out that it would somehow harm her even though the docs said that wasn’t likely to happen. So I wore a pair of those yellow kitchen cleaning gloves, and searched for a pearl.”

“That you still have.”

“That I still have.”

“Do you wear it?”

She stuck out her tongue at him. “No, I don’t wear it. But the thing was over eight thousand dollars.”

“Wow, Peyton has expensive taste.”

Giggling, Amaya smiled at him through the crack in the door. “That she does.”

“But she grew out of it, right? I don’t have to worry about her gnawing on my bed?”

“Nope, you’re good. She only eats human food now. Once again, goodnight.”

“Sorry again about the cottage, Amaya.” He loved the exotic flavor of her name in his mouth, but realized he had to leave before he made a complete fool of himself. “Night.”

As he made his way downstairs to the second level, he tried to figure out why he felt like he had a good alcohol buzz going on. No, it wasn’t liquor making him feel alive and pain free, both inside and out. It was something else, some weird chemical reaction firing up in his blood. Whatever it was, he hadn’t felt this good in a long time and he liked it. The ever present ache in his neck seemed to have lessened to be barely noticeable, and his body buzzed with restless energy. Elvis passed him heading down the hallway toward the master bedroom, and he wondered if he should bother to try and stop the cat before he got there. No doubt Elvis would yowl until Amaya opened the door for him. The cat believed the master bedroom was his, and whoever was in the bed his personal heating unit.

On cold winter nights, Elvis curled up on his feet, shifting with him during their deep slumber. He paused in the hallway while turning off the lights, listening as the loud meowing started. Sure enough, less than ten seconds later, Amaya’s soft voice began to croon to Elvis, who responded with a plaintive meow, like he was the saddest cat in the world.

Grinning to himself, Paul went into the nearest spare bedroom and was glad the place was already stocked with essentials for his frequent guests. After he brushed his teeth, he paused and examined himself in the mirror, wondering what Amaya saw when she looked at him. Silver streaked the short hair at his temples, something that started happening in their late twenties to all the men in his family. After spending most of his adult life outdoors playing football or training, he had lines around his dark eyes and bracketing his mouth. His nose had been broken multiple times, and would never set straight unless he decided to get plastic surgery. That was something his ex had wanted, for Paul to get his ‘face fixed.’ For a while, he’d considered it, then decided he liked who he was and he wasn’t going to change it.

With a sigh, he looked away from the mirror and stripped off his clothes, leaving his boxers on at the last moment because he had guests in the house.

Before he collapsed onto the bed, he took his phone out of his pants pocket before tossing them back on the floor, pulling up his texts and email to see if he missed anything from his Mom.

Finding nothing, he glanced at the clock and was pretty sure she’d still be up.

That is, if her phone was charged.

Or if she even knew where it was.

It wasn’t like nudists had pockets to keep their stuff in.

With a shudder of disgust, he dialed his mother’s number, relieved when she answered on the third ring.

“Paul! Hi, honey!”

“Don’t you mean, hi, asshole?”

Guitar music came from the background as she said, “What was that? I couldn’t hear you. Hold on, while I head inside. We’re having a campfire on the beach... Just give me a second or two. Goodness, it gets so dark out here, and you really have to watch stepping on broken shells hidden by the sand. Okay, I’m inside. How are you?”

“Good. You wouldn’t happen to know a young woman by the name of Amaya, would you?”

“She made it!” his mother said with obvious relief. “I was so worried about her. Is she settled in all right? I left her a text, but she didn’t return it.”

“Well, she and Peyton are sleeping upstairs right now ‘cause the cottage is trashed.”

“Trashed?”

“Yeah, last renters didn’t clean up after they left. Fridge was full of food that had been there for weeks. The road out front hasn’t been patched up in even longer.”

“What? You’re supposed to take care of the cottage. Plus, I sent you all a group text, and a message that Amaya and Peyton were coming!”

“Mom, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did. I’m sure I did.”

Rolling his eyes, Paul reached over to turn off the brass bedside light before scooting beneath the soft grey and purple comforter of one of the two queen size beds that dominated the room. “Sure you did.”

“Don’t you sass me.”

He wondered if there would ever be a time when talking to his mom didn’t make him feel like a kid again. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Amaya and Peyton, you said they’re at your house right now?”

“In my bed.”

“In your bed?”

“Yep, in my bed, upstairs with Elvis.”

“He likes them? Are you sure you should leave them alone with him? He’s the most manipulative animal I’ve ever met. I still swear he’s a reincarnation of your Uncle Bert, and that man was purely Machiavellian. Then again, Elvis makes him look like a rank amateur.”

“I know, I tried to tell Amaya but she didn’t believe me. Not that I can blame her, he was amazingly good with her little girl. Let her haul him around by his neck without a scratch or a growl.”

“Oh my. Paul, that’s just odd.”

“I know. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he loves them. Lured Peyton away from Amaya and almost gave her a heart attack.”

“I think you need to start at the beginning and tell me how you all met.”

He told his mom the story of how he heard Peyton crying, and she was moaning in disgust by the end. “I can’t believe she had to walk into the cottage looking and smelling like that. I’m so embarrassed! I feel so bad. I need to fly up there and clean it. You find a plane ticket for me while I pack my bags. This is just—I’m beside myself.”

“Mom, calm down, sheesh. Go have a margarita or something. I’ll get my boys together tomorrow and go over that place from top to bottom. Anything that needs to be fixed will be fixed. I promise you, the girls won’t go back into that place until it’s perfect.”

“Where will they be staying?”

“Here, with me.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea. We still have your Uncle Raul’s place on the north side of town, and I know Aunt Stacy has the carriage house empty, now that Gina’s moved out to California for her new job. Oh, and I think Jacob could put them up in one of his nice new apartments he just built near the beach. They’d like that.”

Gritting his teeth at the thought of his playboy cousin Jacob getting an eyeful of Amaya, he growled out, “They’re staying here. My place is big enough, and this way I know they’re comfortable while I take care of the cottage situation.”

His mother sounded faintly amused. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Honey, don’t take this the wrong way, but you aren’t the most...oh, how do I put this? You like your space, and you like to keep people out of it. I’m not sure you understand what it’s going to be like having a child in your house. Then again, you’re hardly ever home so it would be nice for Elvis to have someone there. Poor thing must get awful lonely when you’re gone.”

Guilt panged at him as he wondered if Elvis did indeed get lonely. “You know I get restless and like to travel.”

“That’s because you don’t know what you’re looking for or what you need, only that you don’t have it,” his mother said with smug tone. “But that’s neither here nor there.”

“Yeah, well I’m planning on staying in Green Haven for at least the next year before I go anywhere.” He turned his head in the direction of his bedroom, as if he could somehow see through the ceiling to where Amaya was hopefully curled up with Peyton. “How long are the girls going to be in town?”

His mom’s voice took on an odd, tight note. “Um, I think they’re going to be there for the rest of the summer.”

He liked that idea more than he cared to admit. “Then we’ll have plenty of time to fix the cottage up for them.”

“Thanks for taking care of them for me, honey. Those girls are very special to me, and I’m glad you’re the one looking out for them.” She paused for a moment, then cleared her throat. “Look, Paul, Amaya hasn’t had an easy life, raising Peyton by herself and all that. She deserves a nice vacation. It would mean a lot to me if you treated them like family while they’re visiting. Show them a good time, introduce the girls to your brothers, and help them feel welcome. It would mean a lot to me.”

“No problem, Mom.”

The sound of music started up in the background again as his mother said, “They need me at the horseshoe pit, I’ll talk to you later. I love you so much.”

“Love you, too.”

After Paul set his phone down, he did a quick google search for Amaya Flores but came up with nothing. A search of all the social media sights had the same results—nothing. He was pretty sure it was impossible to grow up in America and not have your picture taken at some point in time, or at least belong to some type of social media. Especially for someone as beautiful as Amaya. Even her yoga studio didn’t have her picture, just a small bio about the owner. Then again, maybe she was one of those people who liked her privacy. Lord knew, he valued his after spending all of his adult life in the limelight. With a sigh he leaned back and stretched out, his mind filled with thoughts of smooth tanned skin and pink streaked hair.