Chapter 27
Casey
The Maldives, morning…
I spent the next morning having breakfast with Jack and Michelle and the two sets of Sullivan parents.
I hadn’t seen my mom or my dad in a year, and I didn’t have fond memories of the coldness between the two of them back when I was growing up.
But at least my parents were happy now, and happily remarried.
Then the women spent the afternoon at the spa, a gift from Michelle to her wedding guests.
Afternoon rolled into evening and soon it was time for the rehearsal dinner, held in the restaurant on the property that overlooked the turquoise waters.
I showered, dressed and clipped my hair in a twist on top of my head, loose tendrils falling around my face.
I zipped up the light-blue Hervé Léger dress that I’d purchased at Oliver’s.
I shoved away the sexy memories of those fevered moments in the dressing room. A dress was a dress was a dress.
I wandered across the property, strolling along the sandy, palm-tree-lined path to the restaurant. I was early, but figured I’d grab a glass of champagne at the bar to smooth over the evening, and take the prickly edge off being near to Nate.
I almost tripped in my peep-toed sandals when I spotted him already holding court at the bar, a stunning woman by his side.
She looked shockingly like Joanna. The resemblance chilled me.
This dark-haired beauty had the same mane of luxurious hair, the same emerald-green eyes, and that same long and lean body.
She wore a black pencil skirt, a silky tank top and black pumps.
As for Nate, he was too gorgeous to be believed in slacks and a button-down shirt, open at the neck.
No tie tonight. The tropical weather simply wouldn’t allow for it.
He held a scotch, clinked his glass with the woman’s, and then took a long swallow.
I winced at the ease of their interaction, and the way he’d seemed to slide seamlessly from me to the next woman he wanted in his bed.
Some kind of vibe was working between those two.
I could tell from the way he laughed at something the slinky brunette said, then the way she dropped her hand onto his forearm, ever so briefly, before letting go.
A worm of jealousy slithered in my gut, turning into a full-blown snake when the woman danced her fingertips across the bar and leaned forward, her silky sheet of hair dangerously close to Nate’s arms, those strong, sexy arms that had held me, pinned me, tied me up.
Oh, hell no. That was not going to fly.
I gripped the doorframe, ready to launch an attack.
Visions of a fantastic catfight danced in my head.
I’d lunge at the woman, grab that black hair, twist it hard, then scratch the woman’s neck.
Maybe even her gorgeous face. Anything to keep those claws off my Nate.
The battle would rage on, and I would yank her off the wooden barstool and tackle her, landing us both in a heap on the floor of the bar, me inflicting punishing blows.
All this coiled-up tension would be released in a cathartic, mano-a-mano fight between myself and the woman I hated for no reason other than that she was laughing and flirting with the man I was crazy about.
I lingered on my Fight Club fantasies for another minute, then shooed them away.
I was not a violent woman, and didn’t intend to become one now.
I believed in pleasure, in intimacy, and in love.
That’s why I did what I did for a living.
The more I fixated on this jealousy, the further I’d stray from who I truly was.
Besides, I had no plans to ruin my brother’s wedding for the sake of fisticuffs.
I relinquished my grip on the doorframe, smoothed a hand over my gauzy blue dress, then fixed my gaze on the large table near the edge of the sand.
As I walked behind Nate, he shot out an arm as if he were signaling to turn left on a bicycle, and physically stopped me. He cocked his head to the side, and flashed his trademark grin. “You don’t say hello anymore?”
I smiled, the kind that didn’t reach my eyes. “I didn’t see you. How are you?” I asked him as diplomatically as possible.
“Great. This is my property manager, Nicole,” he said, and the woman extended her hand. I shook it, but didn’t let go of the possibility that Nate’s property manager had her sights set on him.
“Nice to meet you. I have to go. I’m needed out there,” I said, gesturing to the veranda and the empty table reserved for Jack’s party, then picked up my pace.
In seconds, I heard the click of his shoes. His hand was on my arm. I turned around and looked down at his fingers wrapped around my wrist. I shook them off.
“What’s wrong?”
I gave him a pointed stare, as if he were crazy for even asking the question. “Nothing,” I said with a nonchalant shrug. “Why would anything be wrong?”
“You gave me the cold shoulder back there. And now. That’s not like you.”
“That’s because I have a rehearsal dinner to be at,” I said in a crisp, businesslike voice.
“So do I. But you’re early, and no one is here yet.”
I raised my chin. “I wanted to be early. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
He furrowed his brow. “Casey, I thought you wanted to be friends.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. Was I not trying hard enough? Would you like me to work even harder? Maybe sit down with you and Nicole and have a drink together? Because that’s what we’d do as friends, right?” My voice heated up angrily with each question I flung at him.
“Casey, this isn’t you.”
Something dangerous welled up inside me.
Something that felt horribly like no-holds-barred anger, like ragged jealousy, like all the pain I didn’t want to show him.
But I was tired, and I was jet-lagged, and on top of that I was really fucking sad.
So I let it all loose. “Maybe it’s not me.
But maybe you don’t know me. Maybe you should go spend time with Nicole.
She sure looks like she wants to be much more than friends with you.
You can get what you want from her,” I said, the cruel remark coming out of my mouth before I could stop it.
Nate nodded several times, absorbing my below-the-belt comment. His hand came down on my arm again, and he tugged me into a quiet hallway of the restaurant, leading to the restrooms.
“Do you want to go there? She’s one of my goddamn employees, and you better know me well enough to know I would never cross that line.
But if it bothers you so much that I’m talking to my property manager about how to keep growing the hotel’s revenue, then let’s discuss how much it bothered me that you were after Mister Lingerie,” he said, biting out the words.
I held my own against him, standing tall. “It didn’t seem to bother you at all. It didn’t even seem to affect you one bit when I told you why I was no longer going to pursue anything with him.”
“You think it didn’t bother me that you were hot for that asshole? Did you already forget Comet Stadium?”
I shivered briefly as the memory flashed before my eyes of our time together, the way he’d talked to me, so rough and jealous, and the way it had turned me on to no end. But that had all been a game, another move in the chess match of our lessons in seduction. Those lessons were over.
“No. I didn’t forget it. But sometimes I think you did,” I said, crossing my arms.
“I didn’t forget a thing. I remember everything about every night with you. Every day with you. Every hour with you. Like when you bought this dress,” he said, raking his eyes over me from head to toe. “By the way, nice dress.”
“Thanks,” I said coldly. “I’m thrilled to learn you can recall details of a blow job. I was worried that was starting to fade from your mind.”
He shut his eyes briefly and pursed his lips, fighting to hold back, it seemed.
I should do the same. I really should. It wasn’t my style to lash out.
I was direct, I was upfront, but I was also kind.
Only right now, I wasn’t. I was playing dirty because the snake inside me was stronger.
I wanted to shake Nate, yell at him to get over his ex-wife, shout at him to stop flirting with another woman.
And then slap him and tell him he never should have toyed with my heart in London.
“I’m sure, though, that all those lovely things you said to me that night in London have completely faded from your mind.
But then, I suppose it’s not a surprise.
We already know I’m not terribly good at reading men and what they really want.
Especially when they only say those lovely things in bed. ”
“What do you mean?” he asked, jamming his hands through his hair, messing it up. “I meant everything I said that night.”
“What does it matter now? We’re friends. We’re fabulous, amazing, wonderful friends.”
“Casey,” he said softly, reaching out a hand to try to touch me. I jerked away. “You’re not really acting like a friend right now. But then, I don’t feel that friendly either. When I see you in that dress, I don’t feel the least bit friendly. I feel—”
I cut him off. “I don’t care if this dress makes you want to fuck me.
All you ever wanted was sex and friendship.
I’m sorry that you only have one of those things now, but it’s all I can give you, and even then it’s really hard to be your friend with the way I feel for you.
” My voice broke yet again. I swiped at my face, trying to erase the start of the insubordinate tear.
“Excuse me. I need to go to the ladies’ room,” I said, giving him the universal excuse that freed a woman from any situation.
I rushed into the restroom, grabbed some tissues, and sank down in a soft chair in the sitting area, my head in my hands.
A minute later I heard the soft whoosh of the door opening. “Please don’t come in,” I said in a harsh warning.
“Hey. Are you okay?”