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Resort to Love Page 8
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“If you haven’t booked anything, you can stay at my place. If you want,” she offered.
Nate’s double take was classic sitcom quality. He twisted in his seat, angling his torso toward her as his gaze continued alternating between her and the road ahead. His green eyes flashed both question and surprise.
“Are you sure?”
Not really, the voice of reason whispered in her head. Stubbornly, she silenced it. “Yes.”
His shoulders visibly relaxed.
“I’d like that.” The warm smile he gave her before focusing back on the road had her insides melting.
Stop it, she chided herself. This was merely a thank you for his help. And only for one night.
What could it possibly hurt?
“Paul, seriously,” Nate told the assistant manager at Bernardino’s B&B. “If you want to touch base with the kitchen staff to make sure everything is running smoothly for breakfast, I don’t mind covering the front desk and answering any questions for guests who stop by.”
They stood near the Art Deco-painted wooden secretary desk in the living room at the largest of the three bed and breakfast homes Sal and Vivi owned in Key West.
“Oh no, I couldn’t possibly ask you to do that.” A tall, lanky older guy, Paul waved off Nate’s offer with his manicured left hand. His silver wedding band and a black and silver thumb ring caught the sunlight streaming in through the windows lining the front wall of the three-story Victorian home. A rainbow-colored mix of leather strap bracelets adorned his wrist, matching the miniature rainbows splashed across his short-sleeved button-down. “Sofía called to say you’d be heading to her bungalow in the back of the property. I can show you the way. Come on, honey.”
Spinning on his loafered heel, Paul sashayed through the B&B’s first floor, passed the kitchen, and out the back door. They stepped onto a wooden deck with an amoeba-shaped jacuzzi nestled center stage. The backyard teemed with thick vegetation blooming with late spring flowers. Bright orange and purple plumed Birds of Paradise fought for attention amid red and white bleeding hearts, pink and yellow hibiscus, and deep purple orchids. Bougainvillea vines climbed the privacy fence, their bright pink and fuchsia petals creating a backdrop of vibrant colors.
In the far right corner of the oversized lot, a large banyan tree held court, limbs arching through the air to provide shade for those seeking relaxation. The tree’s aerial roots stretched down from the limbs to the ground below, enveloping the trunk in a visual masterpiece of nature.
To the left of the banyan tree, at the property’s far edge, sat Sofía’s bungalow. Once a private suite for guests, Sal and Vivi had turned the brightly painted studio apartment over to Sofía as part of the enticement package when they’d lured her away from Miami.
Nate followed Paul up the four steps leading to the raised porch that ran the length of the small building, the height a necessary hurricane flood water precaution. The soft pink exterior with white trim matched the main house’s Victorian design. An aloe plant and an orchid nestled in clay pots greeted him, along with a “Bienvenidos” jute mat in front of the red painted door.
“Home sweet home,” Paul sing-songed. He unlocked the deadbolt, then handed the spare key to Nate with a flourish. “If there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate. It’s a little crazy around here at the moment. With Sofía at the funeral and now Sal scaring ten years off all our lives...well, I’m hobbling around like a dame with one stiletto heel snapped off.” He pressed a palm to his chest, giving an exaggerated sigh. “But it’s all good. Praise whomever or whatever floats your boat, as long as Sal’s back to his lovable gruff self soon enough, we’ll all be fine.”
As much as Nate wanted a shower followed by uninterrupted shuteye, if there was one thing he could handle while half asleep, it was running a small operation like Bernardino’s. Even if there were two other smaller properties in the mix. He knew Sal and Vivi had stepped up to carry a little extra weight around here when Sofía had raced off to Paradise Key for Lily’s services. Without the older couple for back up, Paul had to be juggling quite a bit.
“Look, why don’t I get cleaned up, and then, as long as you can keep pouring me fresh coffee, I’m an extra pair of hands for whatever you need during the morning rush.” Nate understood the importance of welcoming guests to the free full breakfast, ensuring their day started off with a friendly face before they either ventured out to tour the island or checked out knowing their stay was appreciated. While guests were being attended, other staff stayed busy handling the day-to-day tasks behind the scenes that kept the properties running smoothly. Chipping in to help was easily something he could do to alleviate some of the stress on Sofía.
Paul tucked his chin, his assessing gaze combing Nate from head to Sperrys and back up again. “Are you offering your services?”
Paul’s arched brow punctuated his innuendo, and Nate threw back his head on a laugh.
“As a breakfast chafing dish replenisher, front desk direction giver, bed linen changer...I’m your guy.”
“Pity, I got all excited for a second there.” Paul’s teasing wink assured Nate they were going to get along just fine. Which was good, because he planned to stay here as long as Sofía needed him.
“Let me grab a shower and quick change. I’ll head over to the main house shortly.” Nate twisted the knob, then pushed the door open. Behind him, he heard Paul clamber down the wooden stairs.
“Oh, and one more thing.”
Paul’s call had Nate turning around to see what the assistant manager might need.
“Sofía’s pretty hush-hush about her private life. But that doesn’t mean I won’t do a little prying.” Brown eyes flashing with a playful warning, Paul waggled a finger at Nate. “She’s a gem, that one. Not all are worthy of her.”
On that note, Paul strutted away, thin hips shaking side to side in his pale blue linen walking shorts.
Nate didn’t have to be reminded of Sofía’s worth. He’d known it all along. Stupidly, he’d held back in the past, wanting her to voice her opinion on where they stood, rather than him revealing his feelings for her first. Too afraid of rejection.
Yet, it was what he’d ended up with anyway.
Sofía cutting all ties had gutted him. Melanie being strong enough to stand up to her family had put him in a tailspin of self-approach that, for a brief period, had landed him at the bottom of a whiskey bottle. Or two or three.
This second banishment to Paradise Key had been like an antibiotic shot in the arm, starting him on the road to recovery. Though not down the path his father anticipated.
No, Nate had an idea for a new plan with a different end goal. It wasn’t going to be easy. He’d have to finesse some conversations, dig deeper into his research, crunch a lot of numbers, and hope his assessments were correct. The final step would involve convincing several key people.
At the top of his list: Sofía.
Chapter Eight
Sofía started to take the stone-marked walkway leading from the front yard at Bernardino’s along the left side of the main house around to the back. It was the closest, fastest route to a warm shower and comfy bed. She had just enough time for a thirty-minute power nap before she picked up Vivian and headed back to the hospital in a couple of hours.
Instead, she veered toward the steps leading up to the wide verandah that wrapped the perimeter of the first floor. It was already two in the afternoon, nearly check-in time. Despite her fatigue, she should make sure Paul had been able to keep everything on track. Especially since every room at Bernardino’s was booked.
Out of habit, she scanned the open verandah, making sure no cobwebs hung from the white gingerbread trim adorning the framework. The aloe plants and orchids had been watered, their pots strategically placed around the two blue and sea-foam green rockers nestled on opposite sides of a white-framed ceramic tile-topped end table. It was a comfy spot to people watch or enjoy the cooler spring weather in the early mornings or late evenings.
The urge to si
nk into one of the rockers and let the gentle swaying lull her to sleep, bringing her a respite from the running worry-filled commentary in her head, was tempting. The past twenty-four hours had dealt her two serious blows. First the bank’s denial, then Sal’s heart attack. But responsibilities awaited her inside. Poor Paul had been left to handle all three locations on his own today, with two employees having called out sick.
Wearily, Sofía pushed open the front door. The sound of classical music playing softly in the background greeted her. Paul’s favorite mood relaxing station. Unfortunately, the music’s tranquil vibe was shattered by his screech of surprise when he saw her.
Before she could react, her assistant manager raced around the check-in desk along the far right wall in the family room. As soon as he reached her, Paul threw his scrawny arms around her in a pretty good rendition of a bone-crunching bear hug.
“Good God, it is such a relief to see you! How’s the big guy doing? I know he’s out of surgery, but what are his doctors saying? When are we going to have him back here driving me crazy? How’s Vivi? I can’t imagine what that poor woman is going through? And you!”
Paul finally pulled back from his death-squeeze hug, only to grab onto Sofía’s shoulders and give her a little shake. “What’s with you holding out on me when it comes to this new manfriend of yours?”
The mix of emotions in Paul’s voice, racing from concern to despair to scandalized accusation, had Sofía’s head spinning. Whether from lack of good sleep, her hyper-stressed state, or her disillusion over the increasing odds of her being able to win the Paradise Key Resort bid, she had a hard time following his rapid-fire questions.
“Honey, where have you been hiding him? He is a hunk with a capital H!” Paul’s sotto-voce impersonation didn’t quite work when he tacked on a loud, lip-smacking, “Mm-mm!”
On cue, Nate strolled out of the laundry room at the end of the main floor hallway. His arm muscles flexed beneath his T-shirt sleeves as he hefted a plastic basket filled with folded white beach towels in front of him. Despite the tired lines etching his handsome face, he lit up when he saw her.
“Hi, how’s Sal doing?” he asked, like it was perfectly normal for him to be doing housework at Bernardino’s.
Sofía frowned, dismayed to find him here. “What are you—”
“She was just about to fill me in,” Paul interrupted. “Why don’t you leave that basket on top of the dryer and come join us? I’ll put those towels away later. You’ve done enough work already.”
“Sure. Give me a sec.” Nate swiveled to head back down the hall.
As soon as Sofía caught herself admiring his view from behind she turned her head away, only to find Paul taking advantage of the chance to admire the sight Nate treated them both to.
Paul shot her a knowing look, his perfectly filled in reddish-blond brows waggling playfully. Subtext—see what I mean! He nudged her shoulder, pushing her toward the living room with its red cushioned sofa and matching ottoman.
Sofía narrowed her eyes at him, but followed. She dropped her shoulder bag on the tile floor next to the sofa and plopped down, exhaustion catching up with her.
Nate being here threw another log into the flash fire that had become her life in the past two weeks since Lily’s death. He’d broken a sort of unspoken rule between them.
In the past when he’d visited her in Key West, they’d kept to themselves. Usually he booked a room at a hotel with a sunset view, allowing them to have more privacy away from her work place. Even the one time Nate had stayed overnight with her, they’d avoided interacting with guests and the staff. Sal and Vivi had met him only because they’d run into each other at a local restaurant.
But Nate had never set foot inside the main house. She’d worked hard to keep a clear separation between her real life and the semi-fantasy world created by their occasional hook ups. Now that they didn’t even have those, she didn’t want to see him naturally fitting in at Bernardino’s. He didn’t need to be joking with her staff and winning them over. Nate wasn’t around for long. Soon, he’d be off doing his father’s bidding. That’s how it always was with him.
Frustration welled within her, and she grabbed Paul’s wrist to pull him down beside her.
“When you texted to say you had it under control after Frankie and Joy went home sick, I didn’t know you meant you had recruited Nate,” Sofía whispered harshly. “What were you thinking?”
“Oh, I didn’t ask him to do any housework, girl.” Paul slapped a silver-ringed hand to his chest. “That was all his idea. Though, I did hint at recruiting him for a little something else, but he wasn’t buying what I was selling.”
Paul chuckled, pleased by his own joke. Sofía slapped a hand to her forehead in dismay.
“Oh, don’t fret. You know I’m fully committed to Ralphie. Your Nate and I were only having a little laugh together. Like I said, he’s a good man, that one. I can see why you’ve been keeping him a secret.”
“He’s not my Nate,” Sofía clarified. “We’re...we were...well, it’s complicated. But we’re not together.”
“Whatever you say, sweetie.” Paul patted her knee with a sly grin, then leaned back on the sofa cushion and crossed his pale legs.
Before she could warn him to behave, Nate rounded the corner into the living room.
“So Sal’s out of surgery, right?” he asked, settling on the ottoman angled off her end of the sofa. His knee brushed hers. Even through her black leggings, the light contact sent little sparks of awareness darting up her leg.
Sofía edged away in a bid to create more space between them.
“Yes,” she answered. “Sal was in recovery when we left. The doctors recommended we give him some time to rest, so I convinced Vivi to come home, shower, and lay down for a bit before we go back.”
“Poor Vivi’s probably a wreck after everything she went through last night.” Paul wrung his hands, frown lines marring his brow.
“She was pretty freaked out when Nate dropped me off at the hospital, but she’s staying strong,” Sofía said. “The doctors said we’re lucky Vivi reacted so quickly by calling 911. That was crucial.”
She went on to explain about Sal’s two blocked arteries, which had led to his early morning angioplasty surgery and the stints that would hopefully help alleviate his chest pain and pressure. So far, he was holding his own. To be safe, they planned to keep him for the next two days and ensure there weren’t any complications. Following his release from the hospital, there were some major lifestyle and eating habit changes in store for Sal. Vivi had promised to keep an eye on it.
Sofía punctuated the retelling of the events and the doctor’s orders with a large yawn. Which, apparently, was contagious because Nate followed suit, covering his mouth with a fist.
“Have you gotten any sleep yet today?” she asked him.
Nate rolled his shoulders as if trying to relieve their tension. “Not yet. Paul’s had his hands full.”
“Less so with your large, highly capable ones around,” her outspoken assistant manager threw back.
The two men grinned at the brash joke.
Dios sálvame, Sofía prayed, rolling her eyes to the heavens. But she’d been asking God to save Sal since last night, so she figured asking Him to save her from Paul’s cheeky sense of humor might be too much.
“Look, you two need a break. I’ve got things covered. Besides, only one room is turning over here so it’s all good. Go get some rest.” Paul gave her thigh a quick double pat, then he pushed off the couch. “I’ve got some towels to put away, then I’ll stroll around the corner to the other properties.”
Nate covered another yawn with his fist, sending Paul a half-hearted wave with the other hand. Poor guy, he’d driven through the night, then been put straight to work.
“Paul’s right,” Sofía told him. “You’ve definitely earned a break. And if I don’t get some decent sleep soon, I’ll wind up passing out right where I am.”
“Maybe the gue
sts would see it as an interesting piece of live art,” Nate teased, his tired eyes crinkling with his smile. “You can title it ‘Chica on a Couch.’”
Sofía huffed a short laugh, waffling between happy to have him here during this scary time with Sal and worried about how seamlessly he fit into her world. Especially when she knew his father’s pull would easily rip Nate out of her life again.
“I’d probably go with a title like ‘Sleep Deprived,’” she suggested on a worn-out sigh.
Nate nodded, only to have it interrupted by another yawn.
“Come on,” she told him. “The clock is ticking closer to four, when the doctors said Vivi and I could visit Sal again.”
He reached for her hand as they rose from their seats. Instinctively, she threaded her fingers with his. Warmth from his palm seeped into hers, traveling straight to her heart. Afraid she felt too much where he was concerned, Sofía forced herself to let go, using the guise of bending down to straighten a few Florida Keys travel magazines left out for guests.
Cuidado.
The warning was a faint caution whispering in her ear. Two years ago, she’d played it off like Nate’s decision to commit to another woman rather than her didn’t matter. The girls had known differently. In their own ways, they’d rallied around her.
Evie, who typically texted because her work schedule kept her running most of the time, had actually called to check on her as soon as Nate and Melanie’s engagement had been announced. Jenna and Lily had tried cajoling her into heading up to Paradise Key for a girls’ weekend. Lauren had sent a bottle of bubbly and a box of gourmet chocolates, with a note about how getting rid of an unworthy man was a cause for celebration.
It was easier to think of Nate in Lauren’s jaded divorcée terms—unworthy. But when she looked at herself in the mirror, if she was honest with herself, part of Sofía understood the reasoning behind his decision. After all, she’d turned down scholarships to out-of-state colleges and job offers on the West Coast, so she could stay close to her familia—especially her younger brothers who looked up to her—because she knew the importance and strength of family ties. While she believed the ones Nate’s father held were the kind that choked, she would never ask Nate to risk severing them, even if it seemed like the better option. That was for him to decide.