CHAPTER NINETEEN
Sutton
I let the shower’s warm water sluice over my body and wake me up.
We had fun last night at the beach. It was nothing spectacular if I’m looking at it from a business perspective. But bonfires, locals playing classic favorites on guitars, and different food and cocktail stations gave it a kicked-back, fun atmosphere. Definitely low-key but with a high-class feel.
And then there were questions from Brady.
His way of feeling out the situation between Callahan and me without asking point-blank.
I think I evaded well enough, but will definitely have to make a point of being out of the villa as much as possible so I can avoid any further speculation.
It was stupid of me not to think about it.
Here I am worrying about the consequences of us sleeping together while not considering that people might assume it anyway since we’re sharing the same villa.
That just goes to show how much Callahan clouds my thoughts and judgment. What if Roz hears we’re sharing the same villa and assumes I’m sleeping with Callahan though? I have a feeling she’ll be a lot harder to convince otherwise.
Why does this feel like déjà vu? A man controlling the narrative—my narrative—again, when I told myself, never again.
Hence, the question. What’s in it for me?
Those five words have given me back as much control as I can have in this situation without jeopardizing this opportunity.
It’s also made Callahan realize the uninhibited woman I was that first night is just a small part of the woman he has to work side by side with now.
And since I can’t move villas, as I was told there is no other staff villa available for the moment, the only solution I’ve come up with is that I be here as little as possible when Callahan is. Maybe that will cut down on the possibility of rumors.
With a groan, I turn the shower off and force myself to think about options for Ocean’s Edge and not Callahan. Do I suggest a rotating schedule of events that repeat every other week? That’s typically long enough in between for the guests to turnover so they don’t see a repeat night.
It’s definitely an option.
More structure for the staff so they know what to expect. More options for the guests to enhance their stay.
Callahan will say that’s what resorts that cater to the middle class do. I’ll have to have facts and figures ready to suggest otherwise.
Callahan.
I grab the towel as thoughts of him fill my head. His drunken cuteness last night. How appalled he was at my bikini. The sputtering. The commands. The wide eyes.
Before he walked in, I wasn’t one hundred percent certain I was going to keep the bikini on.
I am here for work after all and was going out with Brady and his husband, so I figured it might not be appropriate.
But the minute Callahan saw me and had objections to me wearing it, it cemented that I would most definitely be keeping it on.
He doesn’t know that the moment I walked out the door, I pulled a sundress out of my bag and slipped it over the bikini. It was fun to bait him, though. To watch him lose control when he’s a control freak.
But the man sure knows how to make his kiss leave a lasting impression on a woman.
It’s hard to stick to your guns when you want him just as badly. It’s even harder to not give in when he presses you against countertops and kisses you until your knees give out.
I check the clock to see how much time I have before my first meeting and then start pulling my clothes out to get dressed. It’s when I get to my underwear drawer that I find it completely empty.
“What the hell?” I mutter and turn to look around my room as if my pairs of panties miraculously grew legs and walked out of the drawer. I immediately start going through the rest of my dresser only to find my bathing suit bottoms are gone too.
My first thought is that some creep robbed us. I know it sounds weird, but I’ve been in a lot of hotels with my job and have heard a lot of stories.
With my towel wrapped around me, I throw open my door and stumble over a large box wrapped with a huge red bow at my feet.
What is going on here?
First my panties and now this?
I pick it up and set it on my bed, curious and confused when I see a card that has my name on it.
These should fix the problem.
—Johnnie
What?
When I lift the tissue-wrapped contents out of the box and open them, all I can do is laugh.
There on my bed are the biggest, ugliest, granny panties in every boring color imaginable.
We’re talking full coverage fabric from below your ass cheeks to above your belly button granny panties.
And at the very bottom of the pile are the most basic, black bathing suit bottoms that are much the same style.
My smile is wide as I shake my head at the contents in disbelief.
He really just did that.
I clutch my towel around me and grab my phone off the nightstand. He answers on the first ring.
“Sharpe,” he says nonchalantly when he knows damn well who is calling him.
“You’re kidding me, right?”
“About?” I can hear the smile in his tone.
“Granny panties? Seriously?”
I hear a door close, and I can assume he’s shutting the door to his office for privacy from the rest of the staff. “Well, since I’m holding the rest of your panties and bikini bottoms hostage, I think you’ll be happy with the many choices I provided you with.”
“Are you insane?”
“Probably.” He laughs, and I love that little sound of disbelief over the fact that he actually did this. Because that’s exactly how I feel about the whole situation between the two of us.
“You went through my drawers?” I know I should be freaked by this. I’m not.
“You left your door and your drawer open when you walked out to leave me while playing with the staff. Curiosity got the best of me. I mean . . . I was a desperate man. How could I not be when all of your underwear is completely sexy and more than a man in my dire situation needs to see or imagine.” He coughs over a laugh.
“But you can imagine me wearing these?”
“It’s so much easier on certain parts of my anatomy to imagine you in those, yes. So I took matters into my own hands.”
“Clearly.” I laugh. How can I not? “And now you’re holding mine hostage?”
“I figured a certain ransom could be paid in order to hand them over, yes.”
He’s clever. I have to admit that. He’s definitely clever.
“Tell me something. We’re on an island in the middle of nowhere,” I say.
“Yes, I’m aware.”
“And you were able to get all of these at the drop of a dime?”
He chuckles. “It’s amazing the things you can get when you have money.”
“You’re arrogant.”
“I know. You love it.”
I pick up a beige pair and hold them up. They’re massive and like something my great grandma used to wear over her Depends when I was a kid.
“Full coverage,” he says, interrupting my thoughts.
“What?”
“That’s what’s in it for you. Having your ass covered should someone find out about us.”
My jaw falls lax and then I laugh. That was witty and clever and fitting.
I hate that I kind of love it.
“Noted.”
“But that’s not the answer, is it?” he asks.
“Nope, but it was a pretty damn good take on it.”
“I should get some kind of brownie points for that, don’t you think?”
“Perhaps.”
“Perhaps?” he asks. “About that ransom, then . . .”
“Nope. I’m good.”
“What do you mean you’re good?”
“Exactly like it sounds.” I laugh. “I’m good.”
“What happened to good, old-fashioned negotiations, huh?”
“Sometimes you just have to take matters into your own hands. You’d know all about that with those long, cold showers you seem to be taking. Goodbye, Callahan.”
And then I hang up the phone without saying another word, needing to leave him hanging while I quietly swoon inside.
I chew on the inside of my cheek, my smile so wide my cheeks hurt. A flirting, creative Callahan is drop-your-panties hot.
Then again, I guess he already proved that in his own, unique way.
Game on, Sharpe.