Chapter Eighteen
Porter was brooding all the way back to the house. I wasn’t sure what to say as he pushed the limits of how fast a golf cart should probably go. When I gripped my armrest and let out an audible gasp due to the jolt of speeding over a bump in the path, he finally eased off the gas.
“Sorry,” he breathed out.
“No problem. I needed a good cardio workout.”
He still said nothing as we cruised toward the house.
“Do you want to talk?”
“Give me a few minutes to cool down.”
It was a thoughtful response. While he cooled down, I wondered what had him so upset. I knew from the moment he walked out onto the veranda that the meeting had not gone to his liking. His face looked wind whipped and I swore he eyed the bar like he needed a stiff drink. I was glad when he chose not to go that route. Growing up first with drug addict parents and then with a pair of people that had had their fair share of alcohol-induced fights, I realized early on that any substance that took away reason never helped any tense situation. It only exacerbated it. Porter had tried his best to be pleasant when he threw himself into the lounge chair next to me, but when I asked him if he wanted to leave, we couldn’t get out of there fast enough. I swore he was going to pick me up.
Porter said not a word until he came to an abrupt stop on his parents’ driveway. Before I could reach for my crutches, his hand was on my cheek. “I’m sorry, Holland.”
Naturally, I leaned into his hand.
His fingers inched up into my hair. “You don’t know how bad I want to kiss you right now.”
I had to swallow down the urge to let him. “Talk first.”
“Are you saying I can kiss you later?”
I peered into his hopeful eyes, gathering my thoughts. “Kissing you would mean something to me. I need to see what it means to you first.”
His thumb stroked my cheek. “It would mean everything to me.”
“How can I know that?”
“It’s my job to prove it to you. I intend to.”
I reached up, breathless, and took his hand and held it between us, knowing if I let it linger any longer on my cheek I was going to lean in and let him have his and my desire. My head kept telling my heart it needed to be patient. Do its research.
“Tell me what happened with your dad.”
He scooted closer, like I needed more heart palpitations. He blew out a breath big enough to rival the sea breeze.
“He’s never going to see me as anything but the kid that tore out of here. It doesn’t matter how successful I am, or that since I’ve been working for the Bristol, foot traffic has increased, and the last six quarters have seen their revenue increase upwards of thirty percent.”
“Wow. That’s amazing.”
He shrugged. “It’s taken some time, but my team and I work really well together. There was a lot of trial and error, but we’re lucky enough to work for people who like to take risks, think outside of the box. Eventually we came up with a good mix of social media and traditional campaigns, trying to appeal to each demographic.”
“You want to do that here.”
“I thought that’s why he asked me to come, but instead he wants me to do it his way. The right way. He’s afraid my ideas will turn the Clairborne into, these are his words, ‘one big kegger-fueled orgy.’”
There was no hiding my surprise; my mouth dropped. “Is that what happens at the Bristol?” His vlogs and posts did seem like they were having a good time. Maybe they were having a really good time.
He lowered his head. “Do you believe that about me?”
“You date women named Honey and Skipper Ahoy.”
He gave me a pained stare. “Dated. I know you have no reason to believe me, and I know the impressions my vlogs and posts give, but that’s not all there is to me. And no, the Bristol is a world class place. Maybe a little more fun than the Clairborne, but it’s a great place for families as well as the single scene.”
“Yes, you show that single scene well.”
“And how would you know that, Miss Reeves?”
I leaned away from him and tucked some loose strands of hair behind my ear.
He wasn’t having it; he gently pulled me closer. “Admit it. You wondered about me.”
I was having a hard time meeting his eyes.
He outlined my face with his finger. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I’m not ashamed to tell you I thought about you every day.”
“How did your girlfriends feel about that?”
“I think they knew there was someone not present that interfered. Someone they never lived up to.”
My eyes drifted up and met his.
“Every time I got online to look you up, I prayed your status still said single.”
“I wouldn’t have changed it even if I was seeing someone.” I never understood why everyone felt the need to publicly announce everything on social media.
He gave me a wry smile. “I figured, but I knew the lucky guy you chose would. I know I would want to shout it from the rooftops.”
“Yet you left right before we could have.”
His thumb caressed my hand. “It wasn’t you.”
“It felt a lot like me.” I had to choke down the emotion.
“I know.” He let out a heavy breath. “The look you gave me that night has been burned into my memory. I’ve never felt so awful in my life. The disappointment on your face still haunts me. I knew it was something I could never make up for. The only thing I had left to do was make something of myself. It took a lot longer than I thought. But I couldn’t come home to you until I did.”
“What about your family?”
He ran his hand through his hair repeatedly “Holland, I’ve made a lot of mistakes. I have more regrets than I care to think about. The longer I stayed away, the easier it got. Pride has a way of doing that. I was going to show my dad how wrong he was about me.”
“You want him to be proud of you.”
“You still know me.”
Did I? “What does your dad want you to do?”
“He wants me to stay true to the Clairborne. The problem is, most of my life I’ve done everything I could to separate myself from it. Only being involved as little as I possibly could.”
“I suppose that would make it difficult. But I know deep down you love this place. You used to have too much fun here for you not to. You just need to remember what it is you love about it.”
He leaned closer and gazed into my eyes, not saying a word. I took the opportunity to see what Alise talked about in his soulful blue eyes. I didn’t have to delve too deep.
“I can name one thing I love about this place,” he whispered inches from my lips.
Vigorous polymerization had nothing on the way my insides were reacting. It felt as if someone had mixed bleach and ammonia together inside my chest and it exploded. Did he say what I thought he said? His eyes were shouting yes.
My eyes began to blink like a rabid turn signal. Why couldn’t I be like all those women I saw today running around in bikinis who obviously knew all the right moves and ways to flirt? I bet Skipper Ahoy had those feminine wiles men loved. Not that I was trying to flirt or even wanted to be like the Honeys and Skippers of the world, but I at least wanted to behave in a manner befitting the situation.
Instead, I was stammering. I could barely get out his name. “Porter.”
“Holland.” The way he said my name sounded a lot like I’m kissing you unless you tell me to stop.
His lips and minty breath teased and intoxicated. Like a bee to nectar, he was attracting me. Which reminded me.
“Did you know bees have two stomachs?”
I barely made out his smile before his lips pressed against mine, making me forget everything I had ever learned, except the way he felt and tasted. His tongue urged my lips to part and I was ready to get an A for effort and participation when a blaring, repeated horn interrupted us.
We broke apart to find his sister, who was coming home from school, behind us in her turquoise Mini Cooper. She wore a smile of triumph. I didn’t know whether I should thank her or curse her. Porter groaned and swore but recovered quickly once he caught the evil gleam in Charlotte’s eyes. She knew exactly what she was doing.
Porter sat up straight and took a breath. “That was nowhere near long enough. We’re going to pick up where we left off later.”
He glanced at his sister, who was still basking in the glow of her interruption. He gave her a smile that said he respected her juvenile prank, but that she was up against the king and he had every intention of winning her over.
She threw back a look that said there was a new queen in town and she dared him to dethrone her.
I wasn’t sure who was going to win.
I leaned back against the seat, my heart and head having a battle that rivaled Porter’s and Charlotte’s. That kiss, though brief, had my head spinning and my heart begging for more. My stay in Paradise was shaping up to be war torn. The question was, what would I consider a victory?