Island Affair Page 7

  Beside him, Sara peered out at the street as she massaged the area above her left brow.

  An old man wearing a ratty T-shirt and shorts, a beat-up straw hat shoved low on his head blissfully pedaled by on a rusty beach cruiser. Luis followed the guy until he turned left on Eaton, probably headed a few blocks over to check out the action on Duval.

  Coño, talk about rude interruptions.

  “I guess we don’t have to bother making up our first-kiss story,” Sara murmured on a shaky laugh. An embarrassed blush bloomed on her face. “Not that I expect anyone in my family will ask.”

  “That’d be my familia who wouldn’t mind butting in with unwanted personal questions. Which, gracias a Dios, we don’t have to worry about.”

  Sara didn’t respond, and an awkward silence filled the cab.

  Luis tracked a flurry of flamboyán petals the breeze chased across the truck’s hood. Their fiery color mimicked the heated passion Sara had ignited in him with nothing more than the feel of her soft skin against the back of his hand. The soft brush of her lips against his.

  This was supposed to be pretend, he reminded himself. Their zany circumstances seemed to have skewed his sense of right and wrong. But he’d do well to remember that she’d asked him for help as a friendly favor. He had agreed mainly to fill the void of time off and assist someone in need. No sense mucking up their plan by allowing hormones to get in the way of common sense. Even if his hormones had never gone haywire like this before.

  Outside, a young couple stopped while their goldendoodle puppy sniffed the ground where the sidewalk butted up against a white picket fence in front of a neighboring Conch house. Probably a normal everyday activity for them.

  But for Luis, this entire afternoon was way outside his norm. Since Mirna’s death six years ago and the subsequent fallout with his younger brother, Luis hadn’t let himself get involved with anyone. He went about his job, pulling extra shifts as often as possible. Concentrated on building up his dive and snorkel side hustle with his boat. Answered the call for help from familia and friends.

  Sure, he had the occasional hookup. That wasn’t out of the ordinary.

  Real intimacy, though? What he thought he’d had with Mirna until the truth of her duplicity had been revealed after her accident? No gracias. Getting played for a fool by love once was enough.

  And yet here he was getting himself embroiled in another situation involving a lie and a woman he thought he could save.

  Helping Sara was one thing.

  Confusing her gratitude for interest was a mistake he didn’t need to make. If he’d learned anything from Mirna, it was that gratitude or, even worse, hero worship was no substitute for real love.

  Sara was in the midst of an emotional, stressful situation. She felt thankful for his assistance. That’s it. He’d do well to remember that.

  Which meant he needed to pull the extinguisher trigger and put out the remnants of the flash fire smoldering inside him. If not, her plan and his bid to help were doomed.

  “Are you—”

  “About that—”

  They spoke in unison, each quickly breaking off.

  “Ladies first.” Palm up, Luis gestured toward her.

  Sara dipped her head in thanks. “I’m the one who instigated all of this.” She motioned back and forth between them. “This whole charade idea, infringing on your time off. And, while it’s probably a good thing that we’re, uh, you know.” She stopped, swallowed nervously. Rubbed at the tiny worry lines wedged between her light brown brows.

  “That we’re, what?” he prodded.

  Sara huffed out a rush of air on what sounded like an embarrassed laugh.

  “God, it’s like I’ve time warped back to high school,” she muttered under her breath. Twisting completely around to face him, she hiked up the material of her peach dress, treating him to a flash of her shapely calf as she crooked her knee over the cupholders in the center console. “Look, you’re an attractive guy. And I’m, well, I like to consider myself a reasonably attractive woman—”

  His snort of disbelief had Sara stopping to give him the stink eye.

  “That was totally meant as a ‘hell yeah,’” he clarified, swiping a hand through the air to underline his point.

  Lips pursed in a cute pout, she hummed an “uh-huh” weighty with snark. “As I was saying, it’s only natural that we might be, you know, attracted to each other.”

  She paused, brows raised like she expected some kind of answer from him.

  After her less-than-thrilled response to his reaction moments ago, Luis played it safe and nodded.

  “I mean, I guess our, um, attraction might make us more convincing, you know? Make our relationship more believable? Though we should be clear. This is simply you doing me a huge favor, and me in turn making an anonymous donation to the fire station’s upcoming fundraiser for local schools. We are starting and ending this whole affair as friends. Nothing more. Right?”

  He couldn’t tell who she was trying to convince, herself or him, but her logic seemed—

  Hell, who was he kidding, logic had absolutely nothing to do with this plan of theirs.

  Sara waited, her brow creased with anxious expectation. Her hands wringing impatiently on top of her knee.

  Logical or not. He was all in.

  Luis turned the key to cut the truck’s engine. “I’m ready if you are.”

  A relieved smile spread across Sara’s mouth. And damn if that didn’t make him start thinking about kissing her all over again.

  Her cheeks plumped when she grinned. Her eyes flashed with the excited glimmer that made him want to do whatever it took to keep her feeling that way.

  Madre de Dios, he was in over his head here. Talk about shaking things up? This was earthquake, Richter-scale worthy.

  Thing was, for the first time in a long, long time, Luis didn’t care. Maybe this nutty idea of a one-week pretend affair with this quick-witted, intriguing woman who discombobulated his regimented, mostly solitary life was just what the doctor or, in his case, the Captain had ordered.

  The thought had Luis’s body responding as if a station Tone Out had sounded inside his cab. Adrenaline raced through him. His pulse ramped up. Every cell inside him tingled, invigorated and alive.

  In a flash of clarity, he realized Carlos had been right. In recent weeks—hell, even longer than that—Luis hadn’t felt this high, this thrill, on the job. Not like he used to. Definitely not since the car accident that had taken the life of a young college student several weeks ago. Dragging him back to a different accident. One with more casualties than the life it had taken.

  One that had left him basically treading water. Fighting against a current teeming with a barrage of painful, unwelcome memories. But this entire afternoon with Sara, he hadn’t thought about any of it.

  Any doubts he may have harbored were instantly quelled. Instinct reassured him that here, enjoying this welcome reprieve Sara unwittingly offered, was exactly where he was supposed to be.

  Now to make sure they made her family believe that, too.

  Chapter 6

  The rattle of Sara’s suitcase wheels quieted as she and Luis drew to a stop in front of a stately two-story Conch house.

  Luis let out a low whistle she took as a sign of his approval.

  Like many other restored historic homes in Old Town, this butter yellow beauty beckoned weary travelers with an expansive wraparound verandah on the first floor and matching balcony on the second. Traditional white wooden railings edged their perimeters, while dainty gingerbread latticework accessorized the high corners of each banister.

  Vastly different from the stark lines, minimalist structure, and neutral colors of her childhood home, the rental’s warm welcome continued at the top of the five or so white stairs leading to the verandah where it waited with open arms stretching out on either side of the front door painted to match the seafoam green shutters. Off to the left, a pair of rattan rocking chairs and a small, round end table
in the same seafoam green, their plump seat cushions covered in a tropical print, created a perfect spot for relaxing. On the right, a matching ottoman and hanging bench swing invited visitors to settle in and get comfy. Potted ferns and gerbera daisies in a bright mix of colors dotted the lower space, while hanging baskets teeming with lush ferns and vines decorated the upstairs balcony.

  This home spoke of family gatherings and special memories made, not secrets kept and young spirits wounded by overheard words and unbridged differences.

  A deep longing for the former seared Sara’s chest.

  “She is a beauty,” Luis noted. “I’ve always been fascinated by these old homes. How renovators take a crumbling structural shell, bring it up to code, and transform it into something like this.” He waved a hand to encompass the stunning building.

  “Apparently, my mom fell in love with the idea of staying in an authentic Conch house. She did all kinds of research on their architectural history. Then scoured several rental sites to find the perfect one.”

  “This looks about perfect to me. Your mom’s got great taste.” Luis reached around Sara to grasp the metal handle on the white picket fence gate.

  “That she does.” Her mom excelled at practically anything she put her mind to. Unfortunately, hands-on parenting hadn’t been a top priority. Sara pressed a hand to her belly, willing the nerves buzzing inside like fireflies caught in a glass jar to calm. “I’m told she also devised a detailed itinerary of all the local tourist spots she plans for us to visit while we’re here.”

  He pushed open the gate but stepped aside for her to lead the way up the bricked pathway. “Are you telling me I’m going to have to arm-wrestle her for main tour guide designation?”

  Sara chuckled, angling her head to look up at him as she passed by. Buoyed by his presence. “Now that I’d like to see.”

  Luis placed his hand on her lower back and fell into step beside her. Warmth from his touch seeped through the thin material of her dress. She started to move away, aware of the temptation he presented but that could only complicate their situation.

  “There you are.”

  The sound of her mother’s cultured voice had Sara stumbling a step. Luis’s hand slid from her waist to her hip, tugging her against his side to steady her. Instinctively her right arm looped around his waist for support.

  Casually dressed in navy capris and a light blue blouse, her dirty-blond hair styled in a cropped pixie cut now that it had finally started growing back, Sara’s mom stepped through the open front door. Despite her diminutive stature, her strong personality loomed large in Sara’s mind.

  “It’s wonderful to see you two,” her mom greeted, hands spread in welcome. “I was beginning to worry you’d gotten lost trying to find your way here.”

  “Hi, Mom, how was the flight down? Not too rough for you, I hope?” Sara asked.

  Her mom had been prone to airsickness before chemo. Since starting her treatment, the nausea had gotten worse whenever she traveled.

  “Oh, I’ve been better. But I’ve also been worse. Nothing a little reading or morning yoga in the gorgeous sanctuary out back won’t cure.” Her mother’s easy quip, so unlike her usual staid personality, had Sara slowing her steps with caution.

  She and Luis reached the end of the brick pathway, and he deftly lowered the handle to carry her suitcase up the stairs.

  Sara’s mom stared at him, her oval face, still thin from the weight loss during her treatment, alight with interest. The tiredness that had weighed down the corners of her light gray eyes had mostly lifted since Sara’s last visit to Phoenix over the Christmas holidays. Now a strange softness, vastly different from the usual keen determination, loomed in their depths.

  “Mom, this is Ric Luis.” Sara rattled off the double name they had agreed on, looping her arm around Luis’s waist again as they climbed the steps together. “Sweetie, I’d like you to meet the best pediatric surgeon in the state of Arizona, if not the entire West, my mom, Dr. Ruth Vance.”

  Luis held out his hand when they reached the verandah. “It’s a pleasure, Dr. Vance. I was just telling Sara, you selected a beauty as your Key West home away from home.”

  “That I did. But please, call me Ruth.” Sara’s mom clasped Luis’s large hand between both of hers, the typical reservation with which she had met Sara’s previous boyfriends curiously absent. “It is such a joy to meet you, Ric.”

  “Uh, likewise.” Luis shot Sara a glance she interpreted as here we go. “Actually, with family and close friends I usually go by ‘Luis.’ It’s nice to welcome you to my childhood home, Ruth.”

  “Oh, I hadn’t realized . . .” The tiny lines crossing her forehead deepened as her brows rose in obvious surprise.

  “I look forward to showing you and the rest of Sara’s family what makes the island so special to us locals,” Luis finished.

  “Sara, why didn’t you mention Ric, or”—Ruth’s eyes crinkled with a smile she sent his way—“Luis, was from Key West?”

  “I thought I did, didn’t I?” Heart pounding with unease at the fib, Sara leaned in to press her cheek against her mom’s cool one for an air kiss. “It probably slipped my mind in all the trip preparations.”

  Once again, her mom surprised Sara by reaching her slender arms around Sara for a hug. After a stunned second, Sara stiffly reciprocated the gesture. The bony shoulder blades along her mother’s back were a stark reminder of Ruth’s frailty. Despite whatever happy front she was putting on for Luis, she was still regaining her strength. The stamina that had driven her for hours at the operating table not quite what it used to be.

  Her mom’s frailty reminded Sara that this trip was meant to be a rejuvenating, mood-lifting vacation. No matter how nervous Sara felt about lying by pretending with Luis, her mother’s peace of mind held more importance.

  Leaning back from their hug, Sara gently grasped her mother’s shoulders. “You’re looking great, Mom. I think a little island sun and balmy weather will do you good.”

  “Yes, well, this humidity will probably turn my hair into a frizzy football helmet. But at least it’ll be a full helmet now.” She palmed several spots around her head where, until recently, the hair had only grown in patches.

  Angling toward the lush front yard with its thick green grass, dark pink bougainvillea vines trailing across the picket fence, and stately palms, Ruth sucked in a chest-lifting deep breath. “There’s something about the ocean air, isn’t there? I’m anxious to dig my toes in some sand and stare out at the vastness of the open water. It has such a calming, Zen-like effect. We don’t get this in Phoenix, do we?”

  Sara stared in disbelief at the woman whom she favored in coloring and facial features but who stood a good three inches shorter in stature while towering over her in strength of character. Who was this introspective woman? Dr. Ruth Vance didn’t talk about calming effects and Zen anything. She was more interested in learning about cutting-edge procedures and medical devices. Pushing herself to the limits if it meant saving another patient.

  Rest and relaxation? That was for the weak.

  “Ruth, are you out here?” Sara’s dad poked his head around the door, his brow wrinkling as the blue-green eyes his DNA had given her widened with joy when he spotted her. “Sar-bear, you made it!”

  He opened his arms for a hug, and Sara scooted around her mother, happy as always to oblige him. “Hi, Dad, it’s great to see you.”

  “Thank you for making the effort to come,” he whispered in her ear. “This is important to me. To her.”

  “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

  Her dad squeezed her tighter, something he’d been doing more of the last few times she’d visited. “You’ve been feeling okay? No, you know, urges or triggers?”

  Sliding out of his embrace, she gave a brisk shake of her head. “I’m good. You don’t have to worry.”

  And she wanted to keep it that way. Her strong, dependable dad had been devastated by her mom’s breast cancer diagnosi
s. Battling the disease as patient and caregiver rather than physicians had changed them both. In ways Sara was still getting used to herself.

  “Charles, meet Sara’s partner, Luis.” Her mom grasped Luis’s elbow, ushering him closer.

  “Hel—excuse me? I thought it was ‘Ric’?” Her dad stared at the three of them, one graying brow quirked, hands deep in the pockets of his khaki slacks. His infamous penetrating gaze had intimidated many an intern and resident over the years.

  “Ric Luis,” Sara clarified.

  She plastered on her camera-ready smile, hiding her inward cringe. Por favor, Mamá Alicia, she prayed, let her parents buy this first of many threads to the story she and Luis had concocted.

  “Luis to close friends and family. Hello, Dr. Vance.” Calm and collected as always . . . well, as he’d been the entire afternoon . . . Luis dipped his head in greeting. “I’ve heard quite a bit about you, sir.”

  “That makes one of us. Though rest assured, I intend to learn quite a bit about you during our stay here.”

  Hands clasped, the two men eyed one another. Her father blatantly sizing Luis up. Luis doing his Vin Diesel impression, all measured calm and tough guy–ish and, God help her, sexy as hell. If she wasn’t so freaking nervous, she would have laughed at the male posturing.

  “Charles, don’t intimidate our guest,” Sara’s mother admonished. “Let me show them to their room; then we can all meet around the pool to get acquainted.”

  Sara’s stomach bottomed out at her mom’s words. Crap! How had she not thought about sleeping arrangements? About the fact that Luis didn’t have a—

  “Did you leave a suitcase in your car?” her dad asked. “Isn’t this one yours, Sar-bear?”

  She met Luis’s gaze, her mind spinning with possible responses. If the same oh crap thoughts clamoring in her head also clamored in his, it didn’t show. His composure remained unruffled.

  “I thought you might appreciate some privacy all together,” he said, and Sara found herself bobbing her head in agreement. “It’s not a problem for me to stay with family this week.”