Sun-Kissed Secret Baby by Leigh Jenkins

Chapter 17

Allie realized she was flipping her hair, and chided herself, making a deliberate effort to stop. What the hell was wrong with her? She hadn’t done anything that silly and girly since high school!

But she had to admit that her hair did look good. After the Easter activities down at the beach, Charlie had suddenly announced an unplanned trip to the mall and the movies, which sent the kids berserk with excitement. A couple of hours later, a large bus had pulled up and the campers had all piled on.

Faced with the delicious prospect of an afternoon to themselves, Sadie and Allie had run down to the small beauty salon at the resort for what Sadie called ‘the works’: a mani-pedi, sea salt scrub, and mud mask. She’d even talked Allie into having some golden streaks added to her plain old boring brown hair. “You’re way too pretty to hide your hair in a scrunchie all day,” Sadie had encouraged.

And now, here was Allie, seated across the table in the restaurant, in a new dress (again, Sadie had been the devil on her shoulder), with a new hairdo—hence the flipping.

Ryan had traded his business formal wear for something more resort-ready: a luxury-brand polo that brought out the blue of his eyes, and a pair of chinos. He was regaling her with a story about a trip he’d taken to Nigeria earlier in the year, to hold talks with one of the oil companies there.

“We were at a drilling camp, like, 500 miles from Abuja. They’d told me to stay indoors unless I was with a guide, but, you know me….” He giggled self-indulgently. “I don’t take kindly to being told what to do. I’m a rebel, okay? So I go for a walk. Not too far, only a little way out of sight of the camp. Next thing I know, there’s like, fifteen, twenty chimps following me. What do you call that? A flock? A pack?”

“A troop, I think,” Allie volunteered.

He dismissed her suggestion. “A whole bunch. I don’t know why they picked me. Maybe they smelled something on me; I had a couple of granola bars in my pocket. But let me tell you; it was scary. This wasn’t Bubbles the chimp we’re talking about. They’re meat-eaters, you know?”

Allie rested her chin in her hand, willing herself to stay focused. He was funny and fun, but for the past half hour the conversation had been a bit one-sided, and the topic of conversation hadn’t swerved from Ryan for long.

Still, it was her night off from mommying, and she was having a good time.

“I look up and see the cavalry: one of the company reps and a forest reserve ranger, zooming up in a Jeep. And I said, thank God! They were going to show these little buggers what’s-what. But nah. I thought they were going to come in shooting—”

“Shootthe chimps?” she echoed incredulously.

“Well, they were threatening me.” He shrugged, sounding a little disappointed. “But they just chased them off.”

She nodded but didn’t bother to point out that wandering around a wildlife reserve alone probably hadn’t been a good idea.

“I did manage to negotiate a sweet oil deal with their company, though.” He looked pleased with himself and brushed his sandy hair out of his eyes. “Not like the way things are going here in Sabina,” he added grumpily.

“Why? What’s happening?”

“Oh, you know. I played a little hardball. Dangled some carrots… the art of the deal, you got me? By now, I usually have those native oil executives eating out of my hands, but not these guys.” He tore off a chunk of sourdough bread and dunked it into a bowl of olive oil and balsamic vinegar. “They’re sticking to their guns. I’m going to have to concede way more than I’d planned to by the time I’ve signed on the dotted line. Smug bastards.”

Allie tried to conceal her amusement. “So, you’re mad at them for protecting their interest in their own oil reserves?”

He looked at her like she didn’t understand a damn thing about the world of international trade. “It’s how it’s done, honey.”

Allie sat back, tilting her head, examining him. Smooth, good looking. Easy with a smile. Okay, so maybe he’d barreled into Sabina like a conquistador, thinking he was going to walk away with all the gold, and privately, she was a little happy that the people of the island were standing their ground. But this wasn’t as if she was interviewing candidates for marriage. This was just dinner, for God’s sake. Wasn’t she entitled to a night out?

He must have sensed a shift in her mood because the easy grin was back, and he reached across the table and took her hand. “So tell me about your day.”

Well, I spent it on the beach watching my daughter bond with my baby-daddy, feeling like I hardly belonged.But, she said lightly, “Camp stuff. Easter celebrations down on the beach.”

“Nice. Is your daughter enjoying it?”

“She’s having a blast.”

His eyes were on hers, focused on her for a change, and she felt a warm tingle of pleasure at the attention. Holding her gaze, he gave her a slow smile. “C’mon. Let’s dance.”

She couldn’t think of a reason not to, in fact, she could think of several reasons why she should. Boredom, loneliness, a vague sense that she was pushing thirty and her life was oozing past her….

She got up and let him lead her to the dance floor. The music tonight wasn’t as bluesy as it had been the last time, but nevertheless he put his arm around her waist and held her close. And it was nice… and yet, it was hard to keep her eyes from straying back to the DJ’s booth, where Sam had been standing that evening, watching her.

Stupid, she reminded herself. It wasn’t as if Sam’s ghost was prowling the resort like the Phantom of the Opera. It was a public holiday, and he probably had way better things to do, if only to monitor what was going on at his other properties. Why would the man have any time for her? He wasn’t interested, had no need to be. He’d met Daria and the two had hit it off. All she needed to do was facilitate that relationship; there was nothing more to it than that.

“Want to go for a walk in the garden?”

They hadn’t been dancing that long, so his invitation took her by surprise. Instinctively, she calculated the time: it wasn’t awfully late, and Sam had implied that when he strolled at night, guitar in hand, it was well after things had shut down for the night, and all the guests had gone to bed. She was safe. So she smiled and nodded, and when he offered his arm, she took it. They slipped out a side door and into the garden.

The scents drifting in the night air were the same as she remembered. The huge yellowish Easter moon cast shadows under all the hedges and flowerbeds. “I love the flowers,” she commented. “Love their perfume….”

He shrugged. “Not a plant guy. Had a cactus once. It died.”

She settled for strolling in silence, and when he wrapped his arm around her waist, she didn’t fuss, either. I’m on vacation….

There it was again: the specter of Sam. Not Disapproving Sam, however, glowering at them from a corner of the dining room. But this morning’s Sam, rummaging around in the underbrush to pick flowers for their daughter. Running sprints on the beach in the Daddies’ race. Handing out prizes to campers after their holiday games. Sam hoisting himself out of the water and onto his boat, dripping, glistening, his curls slicked to his head. Sam peering into a glass of water with a floating egg yolk, making up fantasy futures with Daria.

A Sam she couldn’t have—no, wait, didn’t want, dammit. Because the Sam she wanted was in her past. This was now, her future. One in which all she needed to do was take care of her kid, raise her right, and if she was lucky, enjoy a little male attention every once in a while.

That wasn’t a crime.

So when Ryan kissed her, she let him. And it was okay. Not blazing hot, sure. But fine. He tasted a bit of the bourbon he’d been downing throughout dinner, and, pressed against her, his body was a little softer than she’d expected, as if his hours spent behind a desk and at the negotiating table left him with little time left to go to the gym.

But it was fine.

“Mmmm,” he murmured appreciatively. “Nice.” He reached out to tug on a lock of her hair. “I like what you did with your hair. Did you do this for me?”

No,she thought. I did it for me.

He answered his own question. “Thanks. I’m glad. The way you had it before, it was a little… you know….”

She knew and felt herself flush. Okay, so maybe she didn’t put in maximum effort every day, but she cleaned up nice. Not for him, not for anyone, but it was nice to look nice.

He let his appreciation be felt, pulling her against him and kissing her harder, hands dropping to her butt, grasping her like he was staking his claim on good gold mining land. Kissed her again, deeper now, insistent. When he lifted his head, there was a smirk there she hadn’t seen before. “Hmm. I think we can safely say it’s time to take this inside, don’t you?” He tilted his head in the direction of the cabin next to them.

She glanced at it, confused, and looked back at him. “This is yours?”

“Of course. What did you think?”

She peered at him, trying to read his face. The smug assurance, the assumption that the next step was inevitable. And then she felt the warm glow that had suffused her, of feeling pretty and being on a date after way, way too long, fade away, replaced by a slight chill.

“Um… maybe another time. It’s getting late—”

“Not that late. Your kid won’t be back for a while.”

He was right, but that still didn’t mean she was ready. “I don’t want to rush things. I’d rather take things a little more slowly—”

He snorted. “Slowly? Honey, neither of us lives here. We’re here for a couple of weeks, tops. So I’d say we don’t exactly have a year and a day to make up our minds.” He began pressing against her again, backing her up slowly until she was flat against the wall of his cabin. Hand behind her neck, his grip holding her steady. Kissing her again.

Allie’s thoughts spun. Was he right? Were they really running out of time? She squirmed, tilting her head, but his lips pursued hers. She felt nothing, no heat, no awakening of interest.

There were many women who could do this: get their rocks off, say thank you for a lovely evening, and get on with their lives. But she wasn’t one of them.

She put her hand up between them, pressing against his chest, pushing back. “Ryan, I’m sorry—”

“You have got to be kidding!” He hadn’t released her, but was instead looking into her face, a mottled flush of anger rising under his skin. “You knew what you came out here for. And now you’re backing out?”

“I came for a walk in the garden,” she began to remind him.

He laughed. “Aw, come on! Jeez! Don’t waste my time like that, Allison. I could have gone another route, you know; lots of single women back there in the bar, sulking into their cocktails. I could have had any one of them.” He pinched her chin between his fingers. “But I chose you, babe—”

“And I choose not to,” she responded, turning her face, twisting out of his hands. “I’m sorry if you got the wrong impression about me, Ryan, but I don’t move that fast—”

“Oh,” he sneered, “I’m pretty sure I got the right impression. You single moms are all alike: easy pickings. Lonely, horny, desperate for so much as a smile from a good looking, successful guy like me.” The assessing gaze had gone so cold that Allie shivered under it. “I’m betting it’s been so long for you that you can’t even remember—”

“That’s enough!” She could feel her eyes sting with anger and humiliation, and elbowed him aside, trying to get past him, but he sidestepped her. “I’m going back to my cabin!” she insisted.

“And do what? Crawl into a corner and continue to dry up? Keep heading down that road you’re on, so that in ten years you’re looking forty in the eye, and wondering what happened to you?” He placed his hand upon her upper arm and changed his tone, wheedling, placating. “Come onnn…. Don’t be like that….”

“Dude, she said no.”

Allie’s head whipped around in the direction the voice had come from, knowing at once who it was.