25. Chapter 25
twenty-five
Rowan was right. The swimming hole was what they all needed after a full week of work and problems.
Chris couldn't believe it had only been a week since he'd been in Vinalhaven and met Rowan, Alex, and Oliver. They'd been working, eating, and living together the whole time. And in result, he had a good understanding of them already.
Oliver was a still-water-runs-deep type of man. He hadn’t shown Chris his passionate side except for his phenomenal cooking. Still, Chris knew there was some fire bottled up in him under that Zen demeanor. Maybe he’d get to see it someday.
Alex was the opposite. What you saw was what you got. She wore her personality proudly and unapologetically. She was the friend you’d always want at your party because she’d keep the fun going. Alex had shown she was a real friend by helping Rowan. Taking a break from her popular restaurant job in the middle of summer to cook for this wedding was a generous act. Most sous-chefs would fear losing their position.
Then there was Rowan. She surprised him the most. Chris wasn’t sure why, but she wasn’t who he’d expected. First, he’d thought she was a man. That would go down in history as one of the stupidest mistakes he’d ever made. His second mistake was assuming he could come here, judge everything—her included—in one glance and be on his way. The situation was much more perplexing than he’d anticipated, as was Rowan.
She was a complex woman. Determined and spunky, for one. She wasn't afraid to get down and dirty when her opponent backed her into a corner. But knowing that, Chris also thought she was honorable. The way she accepted Rae’s right to Bright Head assured him the Kelly siblings and Rae would coexist fine.
Rowan’s dedication to bringing the Bright Head Inn back to its glory reminded Chris of his long buried desire to continuing his own family legacy. Working with Rowan this past week had reawaken his childhood dream of taking The Sullens to its next phase.
Then there was the siren Rowan.
Chris hadn’t expected the level of heat they created together. They had burned the sheets on Friday.
But Friday had ended. They’d agreed it had been a one-day deal. That was what Rowan wanted: hot sex for the day. That was it.
Except I’m not done wanting her.
Watching her sunbathing in a two-piece number on the quarry’s granite earlier had been torture. How could he be this close to her without touching her again?
“What are you doing out here?” Rowan’s bedroom voice swept over Chris like warm velvet and brought him out of his musing.
“Just enjoying the sunset.” Chris flashed her a smile.
Rowan walked up the steps to the porch with a box under her arm. She went to Chris and sat next to him on the couch. “That was a fun day, huh?”
“It was,” Chris agreed.
The quarry had been fun. There had been families with kids, teenagers, and tourists enjoying the natural pool. Sharing the joy of a glorious summer day had bolstered their spirit in getting the inn ready for guests.
They’d continued the fun by going for a drink and dinner in town. The chefs had claimed exhaustion from the physical exertion and retired to their house. Chris suspected Alex was deliberately trying to give Rowan and Chris private time. Did Alex know what happened between him and Rowan?
“I needed that,” Rowan said.
Chris grinned. “Like you needed Friday?”
The natural pink on her cheeks deepened. “Can’t have Friday anymore, can we?”
Chris only chuckled. Though he wanted her, he wouldn’t be the one to suggest an amendment to the agreement. If she wanted him, she had to tell him.
“What’s that?” He glanced at the box on her lap .
“Samples from Morgan,” Rowan said excitedly.
“I thought you had all the weekend toiletries you need.”
“This isn’t toiletries.” She opened the box, took out a jar, and opened it. She inhaled the fragrance before handing it to Chris. “That is exquisite.”
A faint spiced sweet citrus fragrance emitted from the caramel-colored mixture inside it. Chris touched the tip of his finger to it and rubbed it in between his fingers. It felt rough.
“Some kind of scrub?” he asked.
“Wow, you’re good.” Rowan’s brows rose, impressed. “Sugar scrub. You like the scent?”
Chris nodded. “Fresh with a touch of sweet.”
Rowan took out a glass bottle and uncorked it. “Here’s a different one. What word would you associate this with?”
Chris exchanged the jar with the bottle. He carefully took a whiff and thought. “Woodsy. Warm. Comfort.”
Laughing, she said, “I said one, but I’ll take three.”
“What’s in it?”
“A mix of sandalwood, lemon, with almond base oil.”
“What’s that for?”
“Massage.” Rowan showed him the entire array of small bottles and jars. “These are the samples Morgan mixed up for me—for my future spa.”
Rowan’s face lit up with excitement. “We won’t have the spa I dreamed of for some time, but we can start small with one treatment room and in-room massage service.”
“You can convert one of the honeymoon cottages to a treatment cottage. It has everything you’ll need to do a full-body treatment. It might even have enough room for two treatment spaces.”
Rowan pointed to her forehead and then to his, indicating she had the same thought. “Great minds, buddy.”
“What are you going to do with those?” Chris asked as he poured a small amount of oil onto his hand and warmed it by rubbing his palms together.
“Try them, of course,” she answered, like he’d asked a stupid question.
Chris smiled, took her closest hand to his, and started massaging it with the warm oil. He used medium pressure to knead the fleshy part of her hand and fingers.
“What are you doing?” Rowan asked .
“Trying the sample,” he replied. “The oil feels nice.”
Chris moved to the inside of her wrist and circled her pulse with his thumb.
“Hmm.” Her eyes shuttered as he ran the pads of his fingers along the length of her forearm. He could tell she was enjoying it.
“When was the last time you pampered yourself, Rowan?” he asked.
She chuckled and opened her eyes. “I can’t fucking remember.”
Chris glanced at the oil before looking back at her. “I can give you a massage. Try out this oil for real.”
“Don’t tell me you apprenticed at The Sullens’ spa?” Rowan looked amused.
“Not at The Sullens. The massage therapists in Bali showed me a few of their signature techniques. I sense your muscles can use a relaxing rub.”
Rowan studied him with those eyes he’d become well-versed in reading. “We’re not supposed to do this again.”
“I’m only offering a massage.” Chris chuckled. “What kind of massage therapist do you take me for?”
“The kind that is very thorough.”
“Oh, I am.” Chris winked.
She laughed, but then said, “Chris Sullens, you’re on. Honestly, that’ll be an ultimate fantasy coming true.”
What the hell is happening to me?
With sheer excitement, Rowan secured the belt around the robe she had changed into. She’d never been this open with a man, let alone with a man she’d known for a week.
Rowan had never thought about asking Richard to role play or to spend a day just love making. She wondered why was it so easy to express to Chris about her carnal desires?
Because he looks at me like I’m a delectable dessert and literally loves to eat me.
When a woman knew how much a man wanted her, her inhibitions evaporated. And Rowan had no doubt a man like Chris Sullens, with his body, face, and money, had had a string of models, socialites, or celebrities with long legs, tight asses, and perfect silicone-filled boobs. But right now, he wanted her.
And that is all this is about—just right now.
With open eyes, Rowan walked out of the bathroom and into her bedroom, where Chris was waiting for her. He’d turned down the lights and lit some candles. There was a soothing sound of trickling water playing low and an aromatherapy fragrance in the air—a sample from Morgan.
“You’ve been busy.” Rowan couldn’t help but chuckle. The man was very detailed.
“I give only the best service, ma’am.”
“Did you just ma’am me?” She feigned an insulted expression.
Chris indulgently smiled. “What would you like me to call you?”
“Anything besides ma’am,” she quipped. “Supreme goddess will be ideal.”
Barking out a laugh, he obliged, “Very well, my supreme goddess. Lie on your belly.” He’d turned down her bed and arranged it for the massage. Robe or no robe, whatever you're comfortable with.”
The robe fell to the floor.
Chris tried hard not to laugh by biting his lips in and forcing his eyes away from her obvious assets.
Rowan was impressed. He was really trying to stay in character. She didn’t bait him further and did as he instructed. He covered her with the flat sheet and exposed only her left leg.
Rowan couldn’t see what he was doing, but the next thing she felt was warm oil spread by his large hands from her foot to the underside of her butt cheek. He repeated the movement with deeper pressure, ensuring the back of her leg was slick with oil before he started kneading her calf muscle with the base of his palms.
“You’re legit giving me a massage?” She was stunned.
“You deserve a massage,” he said. “Just relax.”
Rowan wouldn’t say no to a massage, but she felt a little disappointed. Though the feeling was fast forgotten as his capable hands coaxed her muscles to loosen. He moved to the right leg after a few minutes. She sighed contentedly when he used his thumbs to give her a foot massage. It felt heavenly .
Chris then covered her lower half before uncovering her upper body and pouring warm oil on the small of her back. He thoroughly rubbed it over her buttocks, then slowly up to her shoulders. She didn’t mean to moan, but it felt so good. She didn’t realize how sore she’d been all this time.
Since her arrival on the island, she’d painted, moved furniture, cleaned, and fixed anything that needed fixing. She’d taken care of all the work they’d abandoned after her father’s death.
He’s right. I deserve this.
“Turn over,” Chris whispered in her ear when he was done with her back. “Did you doze off?”
“Can you blame me?” Rowan murmured as she rolled onto her back. “You have excellent hands, you know that?”
Chris smiled as he put more oil in his hands and worked on the upper side of her leg after rearranging the sheet covering her. She kept her eyes open this time and watched him focus on the massage.
“You’re pretty good at this. I should hire you permanently,” she joked.
“I think I’ll stick with management.” His hand left her for a second to adjust the crotch of his shorts. The bulge under it was unmistakable. “I’m enjoying this way too much.”
“Oh.” Her eyes lingered there for a breath too long.
A sudden buzz interrupted the background music playing. Chris glanced at the display for a second to see what it was.
“Sorry, I kept that on in case Walt or Jane need to reach me,” he explained.
Chris’ assistant and event manager were coming from New York tomorrow. They were still understaffed, and Chris brought them on with no expense on Bright Head. Though her pride had wanted to say no, Rowan had accepted the generous offer.
“Is everything okay?” Rowan asked, seeing his lips flattened.
“Yeah. It’s just a text from my dad."
“Oh, is he all right?” Rowan pushed up to a sitting position, holding the sheet to her chest.
“He’s asking again when I’m heading to the Cape,” Chris said, urging her to lie back down. “Nothing serious.”
Rowan laid a hand on top of his instead, stopping him from massaging her. “You’re upset.”
Chris met her eyes. “No. Annoyed, maybe. I’ve already told him I’ll get there when I can. ”
“He may just need a date. My dad lived by the calendar on his smart phone. He had his assistant to book every appointment—business or personal—a few months ahead.”
“My dad’s assistant is his calendar. He barely can use a cell phone. In fact, I’m shocked he’s been texting me so much. He hates typing on the tiny buttons.”
Rowan smiled and added, “My point is just give him a date. So he can have something to look forward to.”
Chris laughed with a hint of irony. “George hasn’t looked forward to seeing me for at least two decades. He summons me once a year.”
“That can’t be true.” Rowan squeezed his hand.
“I don’t have the same relationship with my dad as you obviously had with yours, Rowan,” Chris said. “My dad hasn’t looked at me the same way since my mother died.”
Though his voice was steady, Rowan heard the underlying pain in it. She asked, “How old were you when she died?”
“Almost fourteen.”
“That’s awfully young to lose a parent. I’m sorry, Chris.” Rowan’s heart broke for the boy he was. She lost both of her parents as an adult, and it was the most devastating thing she’d experienced in her life. She couldn’t imagine dealing with that loss as a teenager.
“Thanks.” Chris pressed a kiss to her hand.
“What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Chris sighed, resigning to telling a story. “My parents tried for a long time for another child. They’d actually given up after years of different fertility treatments, and we were happy with just the way we were.”
A reminiscing smile emerged on his lips. “We were a team—the three of us. My dad managed the financial, top management, business development. Though my mother had a hand in all areas of the business, she focused on personnel, customer service, and the aesthetic. I bounced around between them, shadowing and learning from both of them since I can remember.”
Rowan curled her legs under her to give more room for Chris on the bed. “Hospitality has always been in your blood, huh?” she prompted as she watched him lie on his side.
“Born and bred for it,” Chris confirmed. “I loved watching my mom direct the decor staff during the holiday seasons. It was her favorite time of the year. She and her team would make the lobby of the Boston Sullens into an elegant winter wonderland.”
“What did you do with your dad?” she asked.
“He’d take me to construction sites. I got to wear a hard hat and inspect the barebone buildings. He taught me if I wanted to lead someday, I needed to understand every aspect of the business. It’s a lesson I’ll always remember.”
“It sounds like you had a great childhood.” Rowan mirrored his position and lay on her side, facing him. “Until a point. Your mother’s death changed all that?”
“Her death changed everything.” Chris looked at her. “Especially Dad. He was the backbone of our family, but she was the heart. When she was gone, it felt as if she’d taken the light with her. My father became withdrawn and short-tempered. He could barely look at me. I think I reminded him too much of her.
“She was the love of his life, his partner in every sense—both at home and at work. They complemented each other. They were better when they were together. He lost, literally, his better half,” Chris concluded.
“I can’t imagine what your dad went through,” Rowan said. “But you also lost a mother. Did your father forget that?”
“I had my grandparents. They gave me the help and love I needed. So did Rosemary and Thomas.”
“Who were they?”
“They’re the caretakers of our house at the Cape. I spent a year there with them after my mom’s passing before my dad sent me to boarding school in England.”
Rowan started to understand the riff between him and his father and felt sad for him. She touched his cheek. “That must be hard. Your father should’ve been there for you, Chris.”
Chris covered her hand with his. “It was what it was. I just had to quickly learn how to be independent.”
Though it was the adult Chris speaking the words, Rowan heard the regret of that fourteen year-old boy.
“But that didn’t stop you from needing your father, did it?”