Chapter 9
CHAPTER
NINE
TESSA
“I need to call my daughter,” I tell Linc when we arrive back at the cottage. “Then I think I’ll get some food delivered. I want to work on the pitch some more.” I still haven’t rewritten the script yet. My chest feels tight at the thought of all the work I still have to do.
It looks easy, taking videos and loading them to social media. But there’s a reason why influencers get paid so much. There’s an art to it.
But if I’m being truthful with myself, it’s not work that’s making me feel edgy.
It’s him.
Ever since I put lotion on him earlier, all I can think about is how his body felt. Hard. Warm. And completely enticing. I hate that I’m attracted to him, but I am.
Stupidly attracted.
“You sure you don’t want to go out to eat?” he asks, his brows dipping.
“I’m tired,” I tell him honestly. “It’s been a long day. And I’m getting worried about seeing James Gold. I want this presentation to go perfectly.”
“It will,” he tells me. “Because we’ve got it under control.”
“Under control doesn’t mean leaving it until the last minute,” I remind him. Even the thought of doing that sends a shiver down my spine.
“I know. But dinner will take an hour, tops.”
“You go,” I tell him. “I know you hate being cooped up.”
He blinks, as though I’ve found a truth about him that he doesn’t want me to know. But it’s obvious he doesn’t like being in one place for too long. If he’s in the cottage for more than an hour he starts to pace the floor.
At first I wondered if he suffered from claustrophobia, but then I realized it wasn’t the enclosed space, per se. It’s not moving. He likes to move. Never be in one place for too long.
He’s like the littlest Hobo. No wonder he loves his job so much. All that traveling would make me shiver, but it makes him thrive.
“I’ll go for a walk,” he says. “Pick us up some food. We can eat and work tonight.”
“Seriously?” I ask him. “Because I don’t mind if you go out.”
“Yeah you do.” There’s a hint of a smile on his face.
“No I don’t.”
“I’ll be back in an hour,” he tells me. “You want anything in particular?”
“I wouldn’t mind those fish tacos again.”
“On it.”
As soon as he leaves I head for the bathroom, taking my shorts and t-shirt off, then my bikini before I step under the perfectly pressurized shower. The water feels like a massage on my shoulders, washing away all the stress and anxiety that I can never quite shake off.
I’ve been tense since Maya asked Linc about the dance party. And yes, mostly because I can’t dance and he’s going to find that out. But also, because I don’t like her at all.
I can’t believe she suggested we have a threesome.
I try to push it out of my mind. Because it’s none of my business. If he wants to sleep with somebody that’s his call.
So why is there a weird pull in my chest at the thought of another woman touching his body the way I did when I put the lotion on. Of him smiling at somebody else the way he smiles at me when he’s not thinking about how annoying I am.
I squeeze a handful of shower gel out to wash away the lotion I have on my own body. My skin is warm, soft, and my nipples are so hard they tingle.
I slide my hand between my legs, thinking of Linc’s touch there and then pull it away because that’s so wrong.
We’re workmates. Without the mate. And yes, I think we’re warming to each other. But I shouldn’t be thinking about how easily he could lift me against the tiles and slide inside me.
How good he’d feel. How strong he’d pump against me until we were both breathless.
I reach back and turn the shower knob until the water is freezing, because I need a damn wake up call.
When I get out of the shower, I pull on my pajamas, because there’s no point in getting dressed again if I’m not going out. And then I dry my hair enough so I can twist it into a bun before I sit down at the table and pull my phone out, determined to stop thinking about him.
It only takes two rings for Zoe to pick up. And as soon as her face appears on the screen I relax into mommy mode, thankful to have my girl to concentrate on.
“Hey sweetie, how’s things?” I ask her. It looks like she’s in the bedroom at her dad’s house. Her hair is down, the thick strands falling over her face. The curtains must be closed because she’s surrounded by gloom .
“Boring,” she says.
“Oh.” I blink. “What’s up?”
“Dad and Melissa are having a date night. Her mom’s here and she’s brought some friends around.”
“What kind of friends?” I ask.
“A group she plays some kind of card game with. They’re drinking cocktails and eating some kind of horrible pasta. It stinks of garlic.”
I give her a sympathetic smile. “You hate garlic.”
“Right? I suppose I should be grateful,” she huffs. “At least I get to avoid the PDA for a night. Dad and Melissa are disgusting.”
It’s funny, because nobody tells you about this part of divorce. You’ve moved on, you’ve accepted it, but you can never truly walk away. Jared and I used to have disgusting PDA. And I don’t miss him, not at all. But for a minute, I find myself missing being wanted.
“It’s better than them arguing,” I say, trying to cheer her up.
“Oh they do that too. And other stuff.”
“What stuff?” I frown.
Zoe frowns, like she’s realized who she’s talking to. “It doesn’t matter,” she says. “I just hate it. Please come home.”
“I’ll be home for the weekend,” I promise her. “And we’ll go out to the diner. You can eat anything you like, as long as it doesn’t have garlic on it.”
She looks slightly mollified. “I want a burger. Melissa doesn’t like red meat. She says it’s full of toxins. Even dad’s turning into a health freak.”
I’d love to see that. Jared never did anything that involved breaking a sweat when we were married. And he loves burgers, the same way Zoe does.
If she was at home, I’d order her Door Dash, get her a burger. But one thing I promised myself after the divorce was that I’d respect her dad’s wishes when it was his parenting time.
I’ve seen too many kids torn apart by the parents they love to do it to her. No matter how hard it is sometimes.
“How’s school?” I ask her, changing the subject.
“Boring. We’re doing algebra in math. I hate it. And Ella’s having a sleepover on Friday but Dad says I can’t go, because it’s family game night.”
“Family game night sounds fun,” I say, encouragingly.
“About as fun as getting your fingernails pulled out one by one,” she mutters.
I’m about to reply when the door behind me opens. I turn to see Linc walking in. He takes his sunglasses off and looks over at me.
“Oh, you’re still on your call,” he says. “Sorry.”
“Who’s that?” Zoe asks. Because when I turned, I must have angled the phone at him.
“It’s my co-worker.”
“I’ll go,” he mouths at me. I nod.
“Hi co-worker. What’s your name?” Zoe asks, her voice echoing through the speaker. She sounds more animated than she has since I called.
“His name is Linc,” I say. “We’re working on the pitch I told you about.”
“Hi Linc,” she says.
“Hi.” He looks so relaxed as he walks over and smiles at her. The smile she gives him back is huge. “It’s Zoe, right?”
“Yeah.” She can’t hide how pleased she is that he knows her name.
“Hey, is that a Linebackers t-shirt?” he asks her. I lift a brow, surprised he knows who they are.
“It is,” she gushes. “They’re my favorite band.”
“Mine too. I know the lead singer.”
Her mouth drops open. “You do? ”
“Yep. I think they’re coming to New York next month. I could probably get you a backstage pass if you’re interested.”
“Oh my God!” she squeals, and for the first time since I called her she looks like an overexcited teenager. “That’s amazing. Mom, did you hear that?”
“Yeah, I heard.” I give her a smile because it’s nice to see her happy. I know the past few years have taken their toll on her. Jared and I both took her to family counseling when we first told her about the split, and she’s had some individual counseling since.
But I know the upheaval has been hard anyway.
“I’ll send Ryker a message. See what we can do.”
“That’s amazing. Thank you so much,” she says.
“No problem.” He glances at me. “I’m going to get changed. I dropped in on the restaurant. They’re going to send food over at seven. That work?”
“It works great. Thank you.” I smile at him.
“Bye Zoe,” he says. “I promise you’ll have your mom back soon. Thanks for lending her to us.”
“Any time,” Zoe says. And if she wasn’t thirteen years old, I’d swear her voice was all breathy.
Even kids get entranced by Linc Salinger.
“Has he left?” she whispers, after he’s grabbed some fresh clothes from his suitcase and headed into the bathroom.
“Yeah.” I’m not going to explain that he’ll be back. Or that we are, in fact, sharing a cottage. Sure, I like to be truthful with my child.
But there are some things she doesn’t need to know.
“He’s kinda cute. And he knows Ryker. How cool is that?”
“Very cool,” I agree.
“Can I go now?” she asks. “I want to tell my friends that I know somebody who knows the Linebackers.”
“Sure,” I say, because it’s so good to see her smile. “I’ll call you tomorrow. I love you.”
LINC
We eat dinner outside the cottage as the sun sets. They sent over both fish and chicken tacos, along with some chocolate desserts that we’ve stashed in the refrigerator for later. And a jug of cocktails – Bahama Mamas of course. We’ve only had a glass each. Enough to relax but not get drunk.
Because I know Tessa wants to get some work done. And I’m okay with doing some work, too.
“Your kid seems pretty cool,” I say, loading some tacos on her plate before filling my own. William said to leave the dishes on the deck when we’re finished and he’d pick them up later. I make a note to leave a huge tip with them, because the man deserves it.
“She has her moments,” Tessa says, though her cheeks pink up with pride. And I like that a lot. “She’s excited about meeting her favorite band though.” Her eyes meet mine. “Unless you were kidding.”
“I wasn’t kidding,” I tell her. I’d never let a child down like that. I’ve been let down too many times myself. “I sent Ryker’s manager a message after I took a shower. He’s agreed to organize some tickets. Said Zoe could bring a couple of friends with if she wants. And I’m assuming you’ll want to go with her too.”
“Someone will have to,” she says. “They’re too young to go alone.”
“I guess teenage hood isn’t what it used to be,” I muse. “I went everywhere alone.”
“Me, too.”
I take another bite of the fish taco and groan. “I could seriously live on these for the rest of my life. ”
“You should start up a blog about hotel food,” she tells me. “It could be your side hustle.”
“Now that sounds like a lot of work I don’t need. Ever notice that once something starts earning you money it’s not fun anymore?” I ask her.
“Never become a sex worker then,” she says, lifting a brow.
And I start to laugh because it’s so unexpected. Christ, I like her, and that’s so weird to me. And yet it feels completely natural, too. “Damn, that was my back up plan. Now you’ve put me off.”
“I doubt anybody could put you off something you want to do,” she says.
“What makes you say that?”
“You have the silver tongue thing going on. You can persuade anybody of anything. It’s disconcerting.”
“It is?”
She nods. “Yeah. And annoying because I wish I had the silver tongue.”
I shift in my chair, because now I’m thinking about tongues and Carmichael and it’s a pretty distracting combination.
“Not like that.”
“I know.” I smile. “And I don’t have a silver tongue, or whatever it is you think I have. Because if I did, you wouldn’t hate me.”
“I don’t hate you.” Her voice is soft.
“Okay, then you did. Until you realized I’m a good guy.”
“The jury is still out on that.” She’s smiling. “But I think you’re good enough to sleep in my bed tonight.”
I choke on my mouthful of taco, and Carmichael starts to laugh.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” she says. “I meant it’s your turn for the bed. I saw how achy you were again this morning. ”
“It’s fine. I’m getting used to sleeping like I’m folded in two.” I take a sip of the cocktail to wash down the errant taco.
“No, I insist. You need to be on top form for dancing tomorrow night. I’ll take the sofa.”
“You’re not sleeping on the sofa,” I growl.
She tips her head to the side, the corner of her lip quirking. “Careful,” she says. “If you keep on like this I’m going to start thinking there’s a gentleman inside you.”
“I can categorically state there’s never been a gentleman inside me,” I tell her, lifting a brow.
“Is that a euphemism?” she asks.
I shrug. “Nope. And I’ll take the sofa.”
“We can share the bed.” She says it quickly. Enough for me to do a double take.
“What?” My brows pinch. I must have misheard her.
Her cheeks pink up adorably. “It’s a big bed. I tried to starfish in it last night but I still ended up almost falling out. I’m a compact sleeper.”
I pull my lip between my teeth, because I’m still not totally sure she’s serious. But I’m totally sure that sleeping in the same bed as Carmichael would be unwise.
Yes, I know she’s not into me. And at any other time I wouldn’t be into her either. But here, in Exuma, I feel like I’m finding out about the real her. You lose your inhibitions on vacation in a way you never do elsewhere.
And seeing Tessa without inhibitions is kind of enticing.
The thought of us being under the same covers, her warm body close to mine, makes my blood heat up.
“It’s not a good idea.”
“It’s that or I sleep on the sofa,” she tells me. “Take it or leave it.”
I run my finger around the rim of my cocktail glass. “It’s funny, because you’re more of a gentleman than I am.”
“I don’t think so,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I’m just sick of seeing you walking around like an old man every morning. We can build a pillow wall between us if you’d like.”
“A pillow wall?” I try not to smile. But she’s so fucking cute I’m not sure I can handle it. “You think that will keep me away from your side?”
“No. I trust you to stay on your side without a barrier,” she says, and it just about slays me. “The pillow wall would be there to make you feel better. Come on, let’s both get a couple of good nights sleep and then we can go home and pretend that none of this ever happened.
I pretend to muse her offer over. “It’s a deal,” I say.
“It is?”
I nod. “If you promise you’ll delete that fucking video, then yes.”