Sun-Kissed Secret Baby by Leigh Jenkins
Chapter 9
“Hello?” Allie stepped into her cabin, pocketing her key and looking around.
Dead silence.
Not that she should have expected anything else; she was sure Sadie would have taken Daria under her wing for the evening as promised. But the emptiness felt almost eerie.
Her suspicions were confirmed by a note, scratched on the top of the notepad provided by the resort, to the effect that Daria was over at Sadie’s, that they were watching a movie and would probably be a few more hours. Allie was glad her daughter had found a friend, and that Sadie was clearly competent and trustworthy enough to manage, but where did that leave her?
She pressed her fingertips to her lips, feeling again the imprint of the kiss that lingered there. What an absolutely mind-boggling development: within the span of a few short hours, her secret was out, Sam had lost his mind with rage that was probably justified—and then kissed her.
She didn’t want to think about that kiss… had no idea how to process it, deal with it. Wasn’t sure how to categorize how it had made her feel. And to be honest, that swirl of emotions was the last thing she needed to deal with right now.
She needed an escape.
She considered restlessly prowling the gardens once again, but she’d done so last night, and look how that had turned out! Did Sam play his guitar in the garden every night? She couldn’t bear the idea of facing him again.
So instead of proceeding out to that path via the little porch gate, she left through the cabin door, following the soft buzz of activity in the resort’s hub. She wasn’t hungry, wasn’t sure she could eat anything after the kind of afternoon she’d had, so she took a seat at the bar rather than at a table.
She noticed to her relief that the evening’s entertainment was a woman, a crooner with a voice like treacle whose melodious jazz riffs rolled out of her mouth and into the room. Thank God she didn’t have to face the mini-Sam lookalike tonight!
Half a Heineken later, she felt a presence at her elbow, as someone slid onto the bar stool next to her. She turned, more out of instinct than curiosity. It was a sandy-haired man in a striped business suit, tie loosened in that classic way men have when they are done working for the day but not yet prepared to fully shed their executive persona. He looked to be nearing forty, and had deep-set, light blue eyes and a thin moustache.
He acknowledged her with a grin. “Hey, there.”
She smiled back uncertainly, trying to be polite but not wanting to invite too much conversation yet.
He looked her up and down, slowly, and she felt herself flush. Maybe his gaze was a bit too brazen but she hadn’t sat at a bar in a long time, hadn’t had an evening free of mommy duties in more months than she could remember… but the thought that someone was checking her out did have its appeal.
She took another sip of her beer, noticing how his gaze lingered for the merest moment on the way her lips wrapped around the bottle. His lips curved in appreciation.
Well, okay then.
“Just arrived, huh?” he asked.
“Last evening.”
He nodded as if congratulating himself at his powers of perception. “Been here more than a week. Third trip to the island, too.”
“Oh?”
“Business. Oil business. There’s a small but thriving energy sector here in Sabina, you know.”
Allie’s lips curved a bit; her mind was thrown back to their first visit, when her girlfriend Saira, the youngest of their party, had taken especial delight in bombarding them with facts and figures about Sabina. Saira’s parents, of Indo-Caribbean descent, were from here, but had migrated with her when she was quite young.
“So I’ve heard,” she said.
“Here on behalf of my company to hammer out an oil purchase deal. It’s been tough negotiating,” he shrugged confidently, “but we can get them to come around. We always do.” He offered his hand. “Ryan.”
“Allie.”
He glanced at her beer. “You almost done with that? Can I buy you another?”
She held it up to show that the fluid level was only halfway down. “I’m good.”
He gave her the kind of smile that would charm the scales off a snake. “Next one’s on me, though.”
She nodded, well aware that in accepting, she was agreeing to spend at least a little time with him. But what was wrong with that? She was on vacation.
He ordered a bourbon rocks, and when it came, held the glass up to the light skeptically, then said snidely to the bartender, “Sweetheart, are you trying to drown this? Why are there three ice cubes in here?” He slid it back along the bar. “Make me a new one with one cube, please. I’m paying enough for it as it is.”
He turned to Allie once he had received his remade drink, shrugging, pleasant once more. “Gotta keep them on their toes.”
Allie shifted uncomfortably; she’d spent her entire career in food service and knew what it felt like to be on the receiving end of “being kept on your toes”.
He was talking again. “So, you here alone?”
She shook her head. “Here with my daughter. She’s in the Aqua Camp.”
“Cool,” Ryan said. “I love kids.”
Allie relaxed.