LILY’S LIFE LESSON #17
Anything you say can and will be held against you.
The weather was getting warmer and the ducks were getting louder, so Trace and Ben got dressed earlier than usual to stop at Lily’s every morning and move the growing ducks to their outside pen. It was Trace’s day to take the kids to school, so he dropped them off, then raced home, practically fishtailing into the resort so he could get to Lily’s.
Since he and Lily had taken their relationship to the next level a little over a week ago, it had become their routine to steal whatever time alone they could. Going several rounds in the game room had been just the beginning, and they continued their inventive streak every morning after Ben was at school. Not surprisingly, she tackled sex with the same incredible creative mind as she did her job.
Fine by him.
The dining room table, the kitchen counter, against the wall, in the shower, or in bed, it was all good. The best, actually. She was the bright spot in his life, even with everything else turning to shit.
Trace turned onto the lane that led to the cottages.
Megan still hadn’t shown up on the island, and if he couldn’t get her to drop the custody suit, he’d have to hire an attorney. He’d spare no expense when it came to protecting his son, so a lawyer would cost a hell of a lot of money. Money he’d intended to use for a cargo plane.
He parked in front of Lily’s cottage and cantered up the steps, whistling. He stopped with his fist raised to knock on the door.
The bounce in his step and the glee-club tune flowing through his puckered lips was proof that Lily made him happy. Even with so much to worry about, he felt as though he could face anything because of her.
He knocked.
Her voice was distant as she hollered “Come in” from somewhere deep inside the cottage.
He cracked the door. “Lily?”
“In here,” she said from the bathroom.
Awesome. Maybe she was just getting out of the shower and he could towel off her sexy wet body.
As he headed to the bathroom, her phone dinged from the kitchen counter. He stopped and picked it up. Lily seemed to manage the entire resort from her phone and iPad, so it might be important. He glanced at the screen as he turned into the hallway, and it made him stumble.
With a hand, he reached out and steadied himself against the wall. And reread the text from Mom.
I’ve been trying to reach you. Why aren’t you returning my calls?
A tiny sliver of guilt pricked at his heart for invading Lily’s privacy. A big bolt of worry caused his heart to stutter because the text made something prickle at the back of his skull. Lily never talked about her parents. He’d asked her about them once, thinking they weren’t living because she’d used the past tense to refer to them.
“Trace?” she said from the bathroom.
He swallowed down the cotton in his mouth. “Yeah. Are you decent?” Stupid question, because he and Lily hadn’t been decent when they were alone together for more than a week.
Lily’s upper body appeared through a crack in the bathroom door. “You’ve seen me without a stich on.” Her smile was mischievous. “Several times. Up close.” She was wrapped in a towel, secured by a corner tucked between her mouthwatering breasts. Tastefully applied makeup accentuated the perfect bone structure of her beautiful face. Upswept hair drew his attention to her slender shoulders and neck.
He followed her into the bathroom, where she swiped on mascara. He placed a hand on her hip. “Yes, I’ve seen every inch of you, and I gotta say . . . you’ve got some prime real estate under that towel.”
She laughed and kept working the brush across her lashes.
He traced a finger up her arm all the way to her neck, staring over her shoulder into the mirror. “Your phone dinged.” He slid Lily’s phone onto the counter. “I thought it might be important.”
She stopped brushing the wand over her lashes. “Thanks,” she said slowly. “I’ll check it in a sec. I’m in a hurry.” She pumped the tube of mascara and went to work on the other eye, stealing glances at him in the mirror.
He eased closer until his chest molded to her back. With a flattened palm against the side of her thigh, he smoothed it upward until his hand disappeared under the towel.
Her skin pebbled. “I’ve got work to do in my office before I ride into town with Charley.”
“The only word I heard was ride.” He made sure his breath was at her ear.
She shivered. “We’re finalizing the menu and swinging by the school during the kids’ lunch break. Ben’s teacher agreed to brainstorm with me on our children’s summer program.”
He nuzzled the nape of her neck, and another shiver raced over her.
“I thought we could spend time together before going to work. Maybe talk.” With the cuff of Lily’s ear between his teeth, he glanced into the mirror to find one of her silky brows arched high.
“Talk?” She leaned back against him, and his hard-on pressed into her lush ass. She hissed in a breath.
“Yes, talk.” His fingers moved around to her front, and he stroked the soft skin just below her belly button. “And other stuff.” But talking was definitely on his agenda. They got along great at work now that he trusted her to make sound decisions for the resort. They got along beautifully when Ben was around because she was better with him than anyone he knew besides his immediate family. They got along spectacularly when they were bare-assed naked.
But he still didn’t know much about Lily, and she never talked about her life before moving to the island.
He figured her past must be painful.
He understood painful because of the tragic way his mother had passed. Hell, it’d been almost twenty years, and the Remingtons rarely spoke of it.
So maybe it was time he and Lily both opened up about the unpleasantness of their pasts. As great as the sex was between them, he wanted more than just a superficial relationship. Been there, done that, and no thank you. If he and Lily were in, then he wanted them to be all in. The great sex was a bonus.
He traced a finger from her belly button down to the soft center he was looking for.
Correction. Their incredible sex wasn’t just a bonus. It was like they’d hit the Powerball.
Her knee angled to the side to give him access, and one of her hands found its way up his neck and into his hair. “’Bout what?” Her voice went low and raspy.
“About you.”
She tensed, and her fingers stopped their playful romp through his hair. “I’m pretty boring and ordinary, really. Are you going to hold that against me?”
He nipped her earlobe. “You’re a lot of things, Lily Barns, but boring and ordinary aren’t on the list,” he breathed against her ear. “The only thing I plan to hold against you is this.” He pressed his hard-on against her firm ass, and she moaned.
When she opened her eyes again, she stared back at him in the mirror, worrying her bottom lip. The muscles in her slender neck moved as she swallowed, put the mascara down, and slowly turned in his arms so they were face-to-face.
“We do need to talk.” She chewed her lip and stared at a button on his shirt. “Since I’m in a hurry to get to my office, can we talk tonight? Alone?”
Trace could swear her eyes grew moist.
“Hey.” He molded a palm to her cheek and rubbed the soft skin under her bottom lashes. “Whatever it is, it’ll be fine.”
“I—” Her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat. “See, I work for this guy who is very special.”
Unable to resist her lush mouth, he bent and nipped at the corner. “And really great in bed?”
She angled her head to the side. “He’s okay.”
Trace sank his teeth into the notch where her neck met her shoulder.
“Okay, I see stars when we’re in bed,” she said.
He released her flesh.
She fiddled with the same button on his shirt she’d been staring at. “He’s a great guy and a great boss, and I don’t want to disappoint him.”
“I have it on good authority your boss will be much more disappointed if you leave for the office now.” He buried his face in the hair just above her ear and breathed in the faint scent of flowery shampoo. “He might even fire you.”
She stiffened into a plank of wood. He leaned back, and for a second something that looked like fear flashed in her eyes.
“Hey.” He put a finger under her chin and turned her gaze to meet his. “Poor choice of words. I’m sorry.” He pulled her into his arms, and her towel came loose, slipping to the floor.
“Fuck.” He devoured her mouth in a hungry kiss.
“Yes, let’s.” Her voice was breathy with need, and she cupped his throbbing crotch.
He growled. “I thought you were in a hurry?”
“I guess I can spare a few minutes for the boss.” Her eyes held a sultry glint that said he was about to get lucky.
God, he loved that glint.
She opened a drawer and pulled out a purple box that said SECOND SKIN in bold white letters. “They warm to the touch.”
“I love that gifted mind of yours, always thinking ahead.” He carried her to the bedroom and gave her a playful toss onto the bed.
She squealed, all fear and moisture gone from her eyes. He liked this look on her much better.
His prick strained against the rough fabric of his jeans. “I can’t start my day anymore until I hear you moan.”
“Lose the clothes and you will.” She sat up and reached for his zipper.
When she slipped her hand inside to grasp his length, he groaned.
“Who’s moaning now?” She ran her hand along his length again, and he had to agree that his moans were just as intense as hers.
Suddenly he felt very overdressed and shucked his clothes like it was a race. When he was naked, he climbed up her lush body and braced his hands on either side of her head.
“Just be still for a sec and let me enjoy the view.” She ran both dainty hands up his flexed arms, over his shoulders, and down his chest, lifting to place a kiss in the valley between his pecs. She explored him with her hands, softly running a fingernail along the muscles of his abs. Her lips and her fingertips were velvety soft against his taut skin, skin that hummed with desire.
He reached for a condom.
“Uh-uh.” She encircled his wrist with her slender fingers. And before he knew it, she flipped him onto his back and straddled him.
Nice.
“Remember your naughty text?” Wickedness gleamed in her eyes.
“Every dirty word.” He cupped both of her breasts in the palms of his hands.
“Well, you’ve fulfilled your promise.” Her fiery gaze dropped to his mouth like she was remembering how he’d pleasured her with it. Several times. She bent, kissing a smoldering trail down his neck to his chest. Then lower. “I want to return the favor,” she whispered against his stomach, then moved farther down to close those perfect pouty lips around his throbbing flesh.
He forgot his fucking name.
Her clever hands moved over his skin, and that mouth . . . Christ. That mouth was a gift from heaven.
He buried both sets of fingers in her silky hair.
His entire body tightened, and he grasped her shoulders, drawing her up to roll her onto her back. He had himself covered before she could protest, not that she would, and filled her in one swift stroke.
Her body arched toward him. “Trace!”
It was the most beautiful sound he could remember.
Another deep stroke and her hot flesh undulated around his prick. The first glimmer of an orgasm sprouted deep inside him.
They rode the wave of ecstasy fast and hard until they were both spent and well satisfied.
By the time Charley’s horn beeped in front of the cottage, the workday had been long since underway. And their talk that had been interrupted by the crazy undeniable attraction between them had long since been forgotten. But neither one of them was going anywhere, and when she was ready to open up, he wanted to know everything.
Maybe it was the warm, sunny weather so unusual in the Pacific Northwest. Maybe it was the incredible sex. Maybe it was the way Trace, Lily, and Ben had settled into a routine that was so comfortable and family-ish. Whatever the case, Trace found himself whistling again as he left Lily’s cottage and followed the path to the main lodge in search of his dad.
It was time to solicit some fatherly advice about several things.
On his way, he dialed Megan’s number. He’d tried to call several times since inviting her to the island, but she’d ignored every one of them. Today was no different, and it went straight to voice mail.
As Trace circled around the side of the resort, he lifted a hand to greet Spence, who was replacing rotted two-by-fours over the covered activities area. Trace stopped to take in the transformation. New sparkling-white sand filled the volleyball pit, and a new net was strung across its width. Fresh paint gave the Adirondack chairs around the fire pit an inviting look, and Spence had sawed logs into small stumps and varnished them so they served as stools.
The game room renovation was under way too. Ben and Lily had scoured furniture and electronics catalogues every night over dinner, Ben getting more excited with each passing day.
All Lily’s doing. If she could pour so much heart into his family’s business . . . into his family, then Megan could damn well take a second to talk about their son’s future.
Sick and damned tired of jacking around, he tapped Megan’s number again. When her phone went to voice mail, he sharpened the edge to his tone and left a clear message.
“Megan, I’ve tried to be reasonable, but since you won’t discuss this like an adult, you’re leaving me no choice. Ben doesn’t deserve to be dragged through a nasty court battle, but if you want a fight, you’ve got one.” He hesitated, then decided to pull off the gloves. “If you think I’m going to let you take our son away and use him as a publicity stunt, you’ve miscalculated. I’ll make sure every detail of your absence from Ben’s life goes public. Every doctor’s appointment you’ve missed, every school function, every birthday party.” He pinched the bridge of his nose because of what he was about to say. It had caused Ben so much pain that Trace didn’t want him to have to relive it. “Every time Ben cried himself to sleep because you didn’t show up after promising him you would. I’ve swept things under the rug for Ben’s sake, but the damn rug is level with the ceiling by now. The choice is yours, Megan. Choose wisely.”
He hung up and pushed through the front doors of the main lodge.
Trace made his way to the family den, which had become his father’s workspace the past few years. He and Elliott sat at the round table with Elliott’s laptop open and a stack of bills next to it.
Elliott greeted Trace with the usual. “Hey, asshat.” He kept pecking at the keyboard.
Trace flicked an imaginary speck of dirt from his cheek with a middle finger. “Right back at ya, little brother. What’re you guys doing?”
His dad drew in a frustrated breath. “Elliott and Lily insist it’s time to automate. I don’t see why. Writing checks the good old-fashioned way works just fine.”
Elliott rolled his eyes. “It’s not just about paying bills, Dad. I need to be able to run financial reports, project our annual budget, and a lot of other number crunching without having to calculate everything by hand.” Elliott’s financial wizardry kicked in, and his body seemed to inflate as he leaned forward and launched into a numbers spiel that had his dad’s eyes glazing over. “I can even run incremental profit-and-loss projections to correlate with anticipated expenses of new programs or equip—”
His dad held up a hand. “Don’t bother. I’m too old to learn spreadsheets.”
Elliott tapped the stack of bills. “We’ve gone through our monthly expenses, and some of these prices from our regular vendors seem exorbitant.” His voice turned to that shrewd all-business tone he only used from his high-rise corner office overlooking San Francisco Bay. Now that he was back on the island, it rarely came out unless he was talking numbers for the resort. “I’ll start checking around.” And if Trace knew his little brother, that translated to “I’ll cut our overhead by a large percentage.”
Elliott flipped the screen of his laptop down and gathered up the bills. He glanced at Trace. “With you as our new delivery source, we’ll have more flexibility to haggle with vendors.” The vendors didn’t stand a chance with Elliott taking over the resort’s financial management. He looked at his dad. “I’ll keep you posted.”
His dad shook his head. “You can keep me in the loop, but I want you three boys to keep each other posted. I’m planning to ease out of the management responsibilities now that the resort is on the rise again.”
Elliott’s expression blanked. “You’re—”
“Retiring?” Trace finished.
His dad pushed back from the table. “It’s time. This place didn’t deteriorate for no reason.”
Trace leaned against the back of the sofa. “Still, Dad. This place is yours.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, son. The resort belongs to you three now. I’m having the paperwork drawn up.” Lawrence scratched his head. “I planned to have this conversation with all three of you at once, but I’ll bring Spence up to speed later.” He chuckled. “Lily’s got him working nonstop with repairs and renovations. The only time I’ve seen him lately, he’s either on a ladder or has a power tool in his hand.” His dad sobered. “Which is why it’s time for me to step aside. The resort will benefit if I pass the reins to you kids, especially with the dynamite hospitality manager I hired.” He gave Trace an I-told-you-so look. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
Lily did approach everything with a take-no-prisoners attitude. And by everything, Trace really meant everything. He couldn’t stop a smile.
“But what’ll you do?” Elliott rubbed the back of his neck. “Where will you go? Giving us ownership is kind of extreme.”
“I’m staying right here, dummy,” his dad teased. “I’ll be around if you need anything, but I plan to spend a lot of time with my grandson and grandniece.” He gave Trace a shrug. “Now that Charley’s taking over the restaurant and you’re starting a delivery service, you both could use a hand with the kids.”
Trace wasn’t ready for his brothers to know his delivery service might already be in jeopardy because of Megan. He rubbed the back of his neck and gave his dad a look that said, “Yeah, we need to talk in private.”
His dad studied Trace for a moment, then turned his attention to Elliott. “With any luck, I’ll have more grandkids on the way eventually.”
“Spence needs my help.” Elliott practically burned a path in the floor on his way out the door.
His dad nodded. “Knew that would get rid of him. What’s on your mind?”
Trace chuckled. “If I’ve got to hire an attorney, it might mess with my plans to buy a plane.”
“So lease one,” his dad said. “We can wait to buy one later when the custody thing is over. Ben comes first, no matter what.”
And that’s why Trace loved and admired his dad. He’d always been a great family man, always putting his sons first. Which was why the resort had declined. Because of their mother’s tragic accident right there on resort property and the pain it caused all of them, his dad had pushed them out of the nest after high school. Encouraged them to go out into the world and find themselves. Once they were gone, his dad couldn’t bring the resort back to its former glory on his own, but no way would he have asked his sons to come home and help. Returning to the island was something his father wanted them to decide to do on their own, not out of a sense of obligation.
Trace gave his dad a nod. “You’re pretty smart for an old guy, you know that?”
“Yeah, I do know it,” his dad said. “What else is bothering you?”
“It’s that obvious?” Trace took a seat across the table.
“A father’s instinct.” His dad shrugged. “Plus, your shirt’s inside out.”
Trace looked down at his plaid shirt. Shit. No wonder buttoning it had been so difficult after his morning romp with Lily.
“I assume that has something to do with the budding romance between you and Lily?” His dad’s expression grew dark with concern.
Trace was so busted. “Dad . . .” Trace hesitated, not sure where to begin. “Do you think getting romantically involved could hurt my case if Megan really follows through with this?”
His dad drew in a deep breath. “I never went through a divorce or a custody battle, so I don’t know for sure. Seems to me that a stable relationship with a woman as solid as Lily would help your case, though.”
“Do you think it’s unprofessional to get involved with an employee?” Trace knew it was, but he couldn’t stop the way he felt about Lily any more than he could stop the storms that rolled over the island.
“Yes.” His father didn’t mince words. “It’s unprofessional and puts everyone in an awkward situation. Me, you, Lily, your brothers, and the resort.” He stared across the room at a watercolor painting of the resort that hung over one of the sofas.
One of Trace’s earliest memories was of his mother hiring an artist to paint the resort and the island landscapes so that she could hang the canvases around the Remington.
“It’s also how I met your mother.” A wistful smile curled his dad’s lips. “You know the story.”
Trace knew it well. She didn’t have a formal culinary education, so the only cooking jobs she could land in a big city were line-cook positions. So she applied for the chef’s position at the Remington when Dad first opened the resort. She was a city mouse who didn’t slide right into small-town life, but she fell madly in love with a country mouse named Lawrence Remington and stayed on the island for good.
“I took a chance on Lily because she reminded me so much of your mom. Brave, determined, ready to take on the world.” His dad scratched his chin. “I figured a city girl looking for a change of pace had worked out so well the first time, why not give it another try.” He leaned forward. “I’m not sure that helps, but it’s the truth.”
“Thanks, Dad. It does help.”
Lily’s body language, the fact that she only opened up a little at a time, leaving him to slowly peel back layers one by one . . . it led Trace to believe that she didn’t trust easily. That she’d been hurt badly.
He wanted her to trust him. He wanted her to believe that he would never take advantage of her just because she was his employee. And more than anything, he wanted to show her that he’d never let her down.