Chapter Four
Ryan
Did Meredith notice when my gaze flicked down to her tits? I got the impression she was admiring the scenery and didn't pay any attention to me. Not that I care. But damn, a man only has so much willpower, and Meredith is a beautiful, sensual woman. The fact that I caught her swimming in the waterfall pool with no clothes on doesn't help.
Of course she was naked, you moron. It's a nudist resort.
As I lead Meredith back to the main resort building, she insists on chatting like any normal person would. I do my best, but my attraction to this woman is hard to resist. When she tells a joke, I smile and manage a slight chuckle. She is one of the nicest people I've ever met, but that only makes it harder for me to stay professional around her.
"So, Ryan," Meredith says, her voice as silky as warm honey, "you never did tell me how you ended up working at a nudist resort. Seems like an...interesting career choice."
I clear my throat, trying not to let my eyes wander to her tits again. "It's a long story."
She bumps her shoulder into mine in a playful gesture. "I've got time. And I literally can't leave the island unless Rene flies me to Fiji."
I sigh, knowing I shouldn't encourage this conversation but unable to resist. "Let's just say I needed a change. A big one."
"Okay. I can relate to that. It's why I'm here, actually."
As we walk, her arm brushes against mine, sending electricity through my body. I clench my jaw, reminding myself of the rules I'd written for myself which are somewhat stricter than the guidelines for my staff members. But with every step, every smile she throws my way, I feel my resolve weakening. I shouldn't even be entertaining the idea, but something about Meredith draws me in.
I know the dangers of letting my guard down, of allowing even a small crack in the wall I've built around myself. Yet, the more time I spend with this woman, the more I find myself wanting to know her—beyond the polite small talk and surface-level pleasantries.
Her laughter is infectious, her enthusiasm for life palpable. How can one person be so endlessly cheerful? It's a stark contrast to my own subdued nature, and maybe that's part of the allure. She represents everything I've shut out: spontaneity, joy, the pursuit of real happiness. Why do I crave her attention like this? It's been years since I've felt this kind of pull toward someone, and it's as disturbing as it is exhilarating.
"What kind of change are you looking for?" I find myself asking.
She tilts her head, considering her answer. "I'm not entirely sure. Freedom, maybe. A chance to rediscover myself, for sure." Her amber eyes meet mine. "What about you? Did you find what you were looking for here?"
I hesitate, torn between maintaining professional distance and opening up. But I give in and answer her question—sort of. "I found...peace. And a fresh start."
Meredith's smile softens. "That sounds nice."
We've reached the main building, but neither of us moves to go inside. The balmy evening air wraps around us like a cocoon, filled with the chirping of night insects and the distant crash of waves.
Meredith lowers her voice to barely above a whisper. "Ryan, I realize you're trying to keep things professional. I know it's ridiculous, considering that we just met earlier today, but I can't help feeling like there's...well, something between us. "
I swallow hard, my heart suddenly pounding. "Meredith, I—"
"You don't have to say anything," she interrupts gently. "I just wanted you to know that if you'd ever like to talk or anything else, I'm here."
The invitation in her words is clear, and it takes every ounce of willpower I possess not to pull her into my arms right then and there. Instead, I take a deep breath, forcing myself to remember I'm the general manager. I need to stick to the rules and my duties.
"I appreciate that, Meredith. But as a staff member, I can't—"
"Of course, I understand." A flicker of disappointment flashes on her face before she masks it with a smile. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Let's just pretend I didn't say anything, okay?"
I nod, relief and regret warring inside me. "That's probably for the best."
We stand here for a moment, gazing at each other, and I wonder if she feels the same tension as I do. The hot kind. I should walk away, end this conversation before it goes any further. But my feet seem to be rooted to this exact spot, and my eyes are locked on Meredith's. Then she takes a step closer, near enough that I can smell the faint scent of coconut sunscreen on her skin.
"You know, Ryan, sometimes the best things in life happen when we let go of the rules a little."
My throat tightens, and it feels like invisible hands are squeezing my throat. "Meredith..."
She reaches out, her fingertips barely brushing my arm. "I should find my friends. We all promised to have lunch together in the dining hall."
The touch of her fingers on my arm sends a jolt through me, and I have to fight the urge to pull her into my arms and kiss her. Instead, I take a step back, putting some much-needed distance between us.
I clear my throat, my voice now sounding strained even to my own ears. "The dining hall, right. It's, uh, just through those doors and to the left. But I'd be happy to escort you."
Meredith's hand falls back to her side, but her eyes never leave mine. "You're so sweet, Ryan, but I can manage on my own. Thank you for the directions and—the company."
I paste on a polite smile, not trusting myself to speak. As she turns to go, I can't help but admire the way her hips gently sway and the graceful curve of her back. Just before she reaches the swinging doors, she glances over her shoulder, catching me staring.
"See you around, Mr. Interim General Manager," she says, with a knowing smile that makes my dick twitch.
I watch her disappear into the building. My chest feels like a lead weight has landed on it.
Dammit . This is exactly what I was trying to avoid. I run a hand through my hair, frustrated with myself for letting things get this far. I should have shut it down immediately, maintained a professional distance. But something about Meredith makes it impossible to keep my walls up. Though I shouldn't do it, I can't stop myself from striding into the dining hall to grab a table in the far corner, partially hidden by a potted plant. From here, I can see Meredith and her friends, but they can't easily spot me. I tell myself I'm just doing my job, keeping an eye on the guests, but deep down I know that's bullshit. I'm here because I can't stay away from her.
Strictly so I won't look like a stalker, I amble over to the buffet and grab some food and a glass of Noni juice. It has antioxidants or something. Then I settle into my secluded corner, the plate before me offering up a colorful array of island delicacies. The lomi lomi salmon looks amazing—cubes of cured salmon nestled among diced tomatoes and onions, the vibrant reds and pinks a feast for the eyes as much as the palate. I take a forkful, savoring the delicate balance of salt and citrus that dances on my tongue.
And still, I keep glancing sideways at Meredith.
Next, I try a thick slice of pineapple coconut bread, its golden-brown color enticing me to try. The sweetness of the pineapple melds perfectly with the rich coconut, and I find myself tearing off chunks with my fingers, propriety be damned.
My continuing struggle to avoid looking at Meredith has given me a crick in my neck, but I still can't stop watching her. She's laughing with her friends now, her head thrown back, exposing the graceful curve of her throat. I force myself to rip my gaze away, instead focusing on the plate in front of me.
But it's no use. My focus is drawn back to her like a magnet—the industrial-strength kind. She's gesturing animatedly now, telling some story that has her friends in stitches. I find myself wishing I could hear what she's saying and be a part of that easy camaraderie.
Suddenly, Meredith's eyes flick in my direction.
I duck my head, pretending to be fascinated by my food, but I can feel the weight of her focus on me.
Meredith slides her chair closer to Lila while laughing at something Maya says. Even from this distance, the joy she exudes from every pore is infectious. I find myself smiling despite my best efforts to maintain a neutral expression.
Since I've finished my main course, I decide to amble over to the buffet again and snag more grub. If Meredith sticks around for much longer, I'll gain ten pounds before I walk out of the dining hall. But the moment I settle in at my table again, I realize there's another problem. Meredith and her friends have moved two tables closer to me, apparently because the table had become wobbly. Now that the ladies are only a few yards away, the acoustics in this section seem to amplify every word the women speak. So, I bow my head and focus on my eating, as if that will help.
"Fancy meeting you here."
That voice startles me. I raise my head to see Zara standing by my table, a knowing smirk on her face.
"I'm just having lunch," I tell her stiffly.
Zara raises an eyebrow. "Uh-huh. And the fact that you have a perfect view of a certain someone has nothing to do with it?"
My face grows warm because I've been caught red-handed like a kid with a cookie jar. I'd bumped into Zara earlier, before I found Meredith swimming alone at the hidden pool in the woods. Do older women gossip? While I ponder that notion, I mutter and stab at my salad with more force than is necessary. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Zara laughs heartily enough that everyone must hear her. "Oh, sweetie, you're not fooling anyone—least of all me." She slants toward me, her voice now a conspiratorial whisper. "You know, Meredith's been talking about you. A lot."
My head snaps up involuntarily. "She has?"
"Mm-hm." Zara is clearly enjoying herself. "She wanted to know all about the handsome, brooding general manager who rescued her from certain death at the waterfall."
Zara is teasing me, I know. Certain death? That ridiculous. Besides, this conversation is beginning to sound like high school all over again. I'm forty-two years old, for Pete's sake, not sixteen.
I grunt noncommittally, trying to appear unaffected by what Zara said. But inside, my heart is racing. Meredith's been asking about me?
As Zara continues to prattle on, I try to tune her out, but her statement about Meredith keeps whirling through my mind. I shouldn't care what a guest thinks of me, no matter how sexy she is. I shouldn't want to know more about her either. But I do.
"Look," I say, cutting Zara off mid-sentence, "I appreciate the, ah, information. But there's nothing going on between Meredith and me. There can't be. It's against resort policy."
That's not technically true. But I'll keep that information to myself.
Zara rolls her eyes dramatically. "Oh please. Rules are made to be broken, sweetie. Especially when there's chemistry like what you two have."
I open my mouth to protest, but Zara holds up a hand to stop me. "Save it, handsome. I've seen the way you look at her. And trust me, she looks at you the same way when you're not watching."
Finally, Zara saunters away. I try to focus on my food, but my eyes keep drifting to Meredith. As if she can sense my gaze, she glances up just in time to catch me staring. A slow smile spreads across her face, and she wiggles her fingers at me in a sort of wave. I quickly look down at my plate, my heart pounding. This is ridiculous. I'm acting like a lovesick teenager, not a professional resort manager. I need to get a grip. But as I force myself to eat, I can't help but overhear snippets of conversation from Meredith's table.
Maya's voice carries over to me. "So, Mer, what's the deal with you and the hot staff guy? Ryan, right?"
I nearly choke on my salad.
"Oh, there's no deal," Meredith replies, but I swear can hear the smile in her voice. "He's just...nice."
"Nice?" Lila scoffs. "Honey, that man is a living, breathing Greek god. And the way he looks at you? Definitely more than just 'nice'."
"Lila's right," Maya chimes in. "That man's icy exterior melts like a glacier on the sun when you're around."
I shift uncomfortably in my seat, torn between wanting to hear more and knowing I should leave. This is inappropriate on so many levels. But I've never thought of myself as icy, and that's rather disturbing to hear. Professional, yes. But I'm no iceberg.
"Okay, fine," Meredith admits with a sigh. "He's...intriguing. And yes, incredibly attractive. But he's made it clear nothing can happen between us. Resort policy forbids it, I guess."
"Since when has that ever stopped true love?" Zara chimes in, having rejoined her friends. "Rules are made to be broken, sweetie."
I can practically hear Meredith rolling her eyes. "It's not love, Zara. I barely know him. This conversation is embarrassingly juvenile."
"But you want to know him better," Maya suggests slyly. "Come on, you can at least admit it to us. We're your best friends."
There's a pause, and I find myself holding my breath, waiting for Meredith's response.
"Maybe I do want that," she finally admits, her tone softer than usual. "But it doesn't matter. He's not interested."
I grip my fork tightly, fighting the urge to stand up and tell her how wrong she is. Instead, I force myself to stay seated, my food forgotten as I strain to hear more.
Lila clucks her tongue. "Oh, honey, if you think that man isn't interested, you're blind. The sexual tension between you two is thick enough to cut with a knife—one of those high-carbon steel blades."
I nearly choke on my drink at Lila's words. The conversation at Meredith's table has taken a turn I wasn't prepared for. Part of me knows I should leave, that eavesdropping like this is wrong. But a stronger part keeps me rooted to my seat.
"It isn't like that," Meredith protests, but even from here I can hear the uncertainty in her voice.
Zara huffs. "Oh please. I just talked to him, and let me tell you, that man is one step away from spontaneous combustion every time he looks at you."
Is it really that obvious? Shit, I need to work on my poker face.
"Zara!" Meredith hisses. "Keep your voice down. He might hear you."
"Good," Maya declares. "Maybe then he'll finally make a move."
Meredith growls at her friends. "He can't do that. I'm sure he has to abide by some kind of fraternization policy—with guests and employees. I respect that, even if it's...disappointing."
I shift uncomfortably in my seat even as a surge of longing at Meredith's words hits me in the chest. She's disappointed that we can't be together? It doesn't matter how either of us feels, though. But does the resort have that kind of policy? I never bothered to check because I never imagined I'd lust for a guest.
Lila huffs. "Well, if you ask me, sometimes rules need to be bent a little. Especially when there's clearly something special brewing."
"That's right," Maya agrees. "Life's too short to let bureaucracy get in the way of potential happiness."
Fortunately, the four ladies have finished their meal, and they stand up, heading toward the dining hall entrance. I watch as Meredith and her friends amble out of the dining hall, their laughter fading as they disappear through the doors. The remainder of my food sits untouched in front of me, my appetite gone. I can't stop replaying their conversation in my head, especially Meredith's words.
She's disappointed. And she wants to know me better.
I shake my head, trying to clear it. This is exactly why fraternization policies exist—to prevent this kind of distraction, this emotional entanglement. But knowing that Meredith feels the same way I do only makes it harder to resist the temptation.
With a heavier sigh, I stand up and bus my tray. As I'm heading out of the dining hall, I catch a glimpse of Meredith through the window. She's standing by the pool, her hair catching the sunlight as she throws her head back in laughter at something Zara said.
Time to re-read the fraternization policy.