Sun-Kissed Secret Baby by Leigh Jenkins

Chapter 7

“Lemme tall ya,” Sadie announced contentedly, sipping on an oversized mango margarita, “this is the best honeymoon I’ve ever been on!”

Perched anxiously on the edge of a lounger on the deck of the largest of the resort’s three swimming pools, Allie turned to her new friend in shock. “What’s that?”

Sadie shrugged and grinned. “Technically, this is my honeymoon. I was supposed to get married a week ago, then my shit-snake of a fiancé dumped me… five days before! Could you believe that? I managed to sell whatever I could on eBay, you know, the dress, the ring, the cake, but we booked this vacation six months ago. Couldn’t cancel. So I figured why not? I brought Lauren with me, and we’re having a blast.”

Allie was on edge, nervously throwing glances towards the entrance to the pool area, battling with a cold feeling of dread that had settled in the pit of her stomach. Any moment now, she knew, her world would be turned upside down.

She was glad for the distraction and seized on the opportunity to talk about something else other than the dilemma that was gnawing away at her mind. “And you’ve been married before?”

Sadie chortled. “Three times!” She waved at Lauren, who was happily splashing in the deep end with Daria. “Lauren’s the product of marriage number two. She wasn’t exactly looking forward to living with potential husband number four, lemme tell ya. Didn’t like him from jump.” She lifted her brows. “I guess kids have a way of knowing, huh? Better judges of character that us grown-ups, am I right?”

“I guess so,” Allie agreed vaguely. Her maternal gaze kept going back to Daria, who was now climbing the ladder to return to the diving board for the Nth time this afternoon. Allie wasn’t worried, exactly; Daria was one of the best divers on her school team and knew not to get hurt. But the maternal instinct was hard to override. And it amazed her that, after spending more than six hours in the water at Aqua Camp, the girls still had any desire to submerge themselves once again.

Youth, huh?

“What about you?” Sadie was asking.

Allie dragged her attention back to her. “What about me, what?”

“You married? Divorced? Separated?” The hunger for information was evident on Sadie’s face, and Allie knew she wouldn’t escape with a half-assed answer.

“None of the above,” she said, maybe a little too abruptly. “It’s always been just me and Daria.”

Sadie took another chug on her margarita. “I hear you. Men: more trouble than they’re worth…” Her blue eyes were curious as she waited for more.

Allie looked away, changed the subject. “Can you believe they’re back in the water again?”

“I knowww! Water babies! Your daughter is a natural born swimmer. Like a dolphin!”

An inherited trait, Allie thought miserably, and glanced again at the doorway… just in time to see Sam appear, stepping onto the deck. He was dressed in a suit; no casual jeans and jacket as she’d seen him in last night. The suit was impeccably cut and steel gray, the shirt a muted blue, the tie perfectly knotted. She wondered briefly if he didn’t feel uncomfortable wearing a formal jacket in this heat. She guessed it was part of his job, being the owner and all.

She could see him more clearly in the fading daylight than she had last night, and was taken aback again by how good he looked: the planes of his face familiar and yet so much more mature. The shape of the mouth she’d kissed all those years ago as if it had been her first kiss. The determination of the jaw. The deep green eyes… replicas of which she’d looked into every day in the past nine years, shining out from her daughter’s face.

She desperately wished she’d accepted the waiter’s offer of a drink earlier. She’d been too nervous, she’d thought. Now she realized her mistake because her throat was closing up.

Sam approached her directly, and she leaped to her feet, hating the fact that she had wrapped her arms protectively around her midsection. “You wanted to see me?” he asked with wooden formality. His expression neutral, almost guarded.

Beside her, Sadie had also leaped up, not bothering to conceal her curiosity. Or her frank admiration.

Allie felt her face burn. Out with it, she told herself. Woman up. “Yes.” Deep breath. “I need to talk to you about something—”

“Are you and your… companion… dissatisfied with some aspect of our service?” There it was again, that same, annoying formality, as if he was reading from an employee manual.

“No. Everything is fine. More than fine,” she added hastily. “And I’m not here with a man.”

A dark brow lifted, but he said nothing.

“There’s something I have to… something you need to know—”

“Mooom!” Daria bawled from atop the diving board, waving with enthusiasm. “Look at me!”

Everyone looked: Allie, Sadie, and Sam. All three took her in: the long, lean limbs, the tawny skin just a shade lighter than Sam’s, the thick mass of sable curls, golden at the tips.

Sadie’s mouth took on an O shape as understanding dawned.

God,Allie thought. I should have done this in private. This was a mistake.

Sam’s face grew slack, his skin went ashen under his deep tan, and his eyes never left Daria’s form as she lifted her arms and executed a perfect forward dive.

He looked to Allie as though his legs were about to fail him, staggered back a few steps. Stared at the water where Daria had gone in, and when she rose, beaming proudly, he let out a gasp… of shock or horror, Allie couldn’t tell.

Then his eyes were upon Allie again, sharp, accusing… furious.

“Sam,” she began.

“I want to see her.”

What would Sam say to her, do to her? What if he traumatized her with his reaction? If he said or did anything to hurt her, so help her God… Tiger Mother came to the fore, and instinctively, she slipped in front of him, trying ineffectually to block his gaze. “Not now, Sam. Please.”

He looked astounded. “But I have to—”

“Later,” she begged.

He dragged his eyes away from Daria, who was gleefully following Lauren back up the ladder. “Fine,” he grated. “Then I shall speak with you. Now.”

Cowardice claimed her. She began to stutter, “I need to make sure Daria’s okay. Get her out of the pool, get her dressed—”

Reading the situation, Sadie leaped in, both her savior and her sentencer. “It’s fine, Allie. I’ll keep the girls for the evening. Daria will be safe with me. You go on ahead and have your… uh… conversation…”

Allie wanted to run to the poolside, haul her daughter out of the pool and… and what?

“I would appreciate that, madam,” Sam intervened, nodding at her courteously.

Thought part of her bristled at his temerity, another part of her cringed. There was no point in protesting. The time of her reckoning was upon her. She nodded her thanks wordlessly and lifted her arm to signal to Daria that she would be back.

Then she felt Sam’s hand close upon her bicep, a manacle of iron. All he said was, “Let’s go.”