All I Do: Paradise Beach #3 Read online

  I know this tone, because he’s laughed at my jokes like that.

  Oh. Ohhh. I’d turned him down earlier today. And he…

  My heart leaps into my throat.

  His snarky comments from the other day about his brothers’ weddings run through my mind.

  He’s here with another woman. Maybe on a date. Looks like a date. She’s incredibly cute.

  I’m frozen to the ground as I stare at them.

  The Playboy of Paradise Beach has already moved on.

  I throw the bike lock back in the basket and hop on, pedaling furiously away from the tiki bar. The breeze sends my tears streaking down my face.

  Chapter Eighteen

  REMY

  “Damien’s on the phone!” Nat yells.

  Skipping over to the table where I’m sitting with Sadie, my sister waves her oversized iPhone in the air. I reach for it and peer at the screen.

  “Bro, where are you?” I yell, holding up my beer. I don’t mind being a bit loud because we’re the only ones sitting on the little deck at the tiki bar tonight. “I didn’t think you’d call today, since you’re on vacation and all.”

  “Kate and I are in Rome. We’re about to go to Pompeii,” he says, grinning.

  “Wow, that hotel looks swank. You on a balcony or something?”

  “Yeah, check this out. Wait. Goddammit, how do I work this? Kate, tell me how to operate this camera. Kate? Shit, she’s already in the shower,” my brother mutters.

  The video jumps and shakes, then switches from his bearded, ugly mug to a panorama of a European square, complete with a historic fountain.

  “Wow. Nice. Max hooked you up, didn’t he?” Natalia says.

  The video pans for a few seconds, capturing the bustle and buzz of scooter traffic and honking cars. Then it jumps and shifts again to my twin brother.

  “Yeah, he did good. We’ve been here a few days, and now we’re headed south. It’s been so fucking awesome being out of Syria. And especially seeing Kate.” There’s a glint in my brother’s eyes, and I can tell he’s been doing a lot more than seeing his new wife.

  “Good for you, man, you deserve it.” I tip my beer to the screen. The phone is precariously perched against a plastic holder advertising happy hour specials.

  “Where are you all?” Damien asks, scratching his furry jaw. It looks like he hasn't shaved since he left — his beard's that long.

  “Lime and Salt. I’m with Nat, and we ran into Sadie and her brother, so we’re gettin’ a beer with them.”

  Sadie pops into view behind my left shoulder. “Hey dude! Say hi to Kate for me. By the way, I’m off to go slay Nat's score at pinball.”

  We all laugh, and Damien shakes his head. “Goddamn, I miss that. Have a beer for me.”

  “Six more months, right?” Nat asks, a line of concern grooved between her brows.

  We all try not to voice our worry about Damien. But when we see him on video chat, it’s hard to keep that worry from seeping into the open. Each month he’s overseas, he looks older. More serious. More depressed.

  Today, though, he’s none of those things. Must be Kate and the power of love. All that mushy stuff.

  “Yeah, six more months. Hey, how are Dad and Ma? And how are things at the resort with Max?”

  “Doing well,” Nat chirps. “Dad and Ma are planning their big cruise. The resort’s doing well. We got a nice write-up in Florida Trend. Let’s see, what else? My jewelry’s now in three more stores.”

  “Awesome. You’re kicking ass, sis.”

  Nat grins. “And Tate and Isabella are working hard on some turtle thing. With Lauren. A book or something. Oh, and your twin has a girlfriend.”

  I laugh. “Do not.”

  “Shut up.” Nat swats me on the chest. “Wanna know how I know it’s serious?”

  Damien’s cracking up. “How?”

  “Because we’ve been here at Lime and Salt for an hour and he hasn’t flirted with a single woman.” She leans in. “Not even Sadie, who’s wearing a really low-cut top tonight. Remy’s been sitting and talking with Sadie like she doesn’t even have boobs.”

  Damien’s eyebrows shoot up. “Seriously? You? Shut the fuck up.”

  “Aww, come on, man.” I wave my hand in the air dismissively. “You know I’m not interested in Sadie. She’s like another guy.”

  “Bro, you really have a girlfriend?” Damien asks skeptically.

  I shrug. “Leilani’s not a girlfriend, not exactly. She’s more like a…” I grin. “A magical unicorn mermaid that spreads joy and love wherever she goes.”

  Damien brings the phone close to his face so that only his eye is visible. He moves the camera in and out. “What did you just say? I didn’t quite catch that. Repeat.”

  Nat giggles. “Let me translate. Your twin brother has a friends-with-benefits situation with a beautiful, awesome woman who is opening a mermaid-themed bar. In her spare time, she dons sexy mermaid outfits and swims half naked in the Gulf of Mexico.”

  Damien strokes his beard, grinning. “Well, shit.”

  I lean into the phone and lower my voice, trying and failing to hide my excitement. “It’s everything I ever wanted, man. Like, we’re totally good friends plus we hook up. We talk and have sex. Talk, sex. Wash, rinse, repeat. Sometimes we watch movies together and eat pizza. This way, I can remain spontaneous; she has her space to focus on her business…”

  “You two exclusive?” he asks.

  I shrug. A funny, fizzy feeling in my stomach appears whenever I wonder if Leliani might be dating someone else. I don't think she is. God, I hope she's not. “We haven’t talked about it, but yeah. I mean, I don’t want anyone else, and hell, why would she, when she's got this anytime she wants?”

  I raise my arm into a bodybuilder pose, showing off my bicep. Nat rolls her eyes and swears under her breath.

  “Damien, who are you talking to—Oh," a woman's voice squeals in the background. We’re treated to a flash of a naked limb — Kate’s — and then the phone points towards a chair leg.

  “Gotta run, guys,” Damien says. “Kate’s out of the shower.”

  “Hey Remy, hey Nat!” Kate hollers.

  “Talk soon,” Nat cries.

  “Bye, bros,” I yell.

  Nat taps the phone. “Damn, whenever we’re on with him, we all start yelling, don’t we?”

  I take a sip of beer and nod. “Can’t help it. Just feels too good to know that he’s okay.”

  “He looked happy just now, though. Thank God.”

  Nat and I exchange glances. We’ve talked amongst ourselves regarding how concerned we are about Damien and his past depression, but we’ve never shared our concerns with Tate, Max, or our parents. And definitely not Kate.

  No, Nat and I figure we can monitor the situation with him without making a big deal. We're like the front line of his personal mental health team.

  If we need to, we’ll get him help when he returns home. But maybe he won’t need it. Maybe Kate’s the thing that will turn his mood around. I can only hope. Although I think even I’m smart enough to realize that the love of a good woman won’t fix my brother’s darkness, an unfortunate byproduct of war.

  “Hey, where’s Leilani tonight? She should be here,” Nat says.

  I shrug. “She said she was busy with the business. Mermosa’s grand opening is in about a month.”

  “Shouldn’t you be helping her, as her official mentor?”

  “I asked her earlier if she needed my help and she said no. Weird, I haven’t seen her since Sunday, at Ma and Dad’s dinner.”

  Nat’s perfectly groomed left eyebrow quirks up. “Is there trouble in mermaid paradise?”

  I shake my head emphatically, but something inside my gut is still uneasy. “Nah. We’re just doing our own thing. We’re not joined at the hip like Max and Lauren or Tate and Isabella.”

  “No? You two spend a lot of time together.”

  “Yeah…” my voice trails off. We were spending a lot of time together. Al
most every night. But I haven’t seen her for seventy-two hours. My schedule for the next few days flies through my mind. I have a couple of night fishing charters coming up. And a couple of long days after that. Which means I might not get to see her for a while. That doesn't sit well with me.

  “You know, come to think of it, I might just pay her a visit tonight. I miss her.” I take out my wallet and check my cash level, then slide off my seat.

  “I’ve got the tab,” Nat says.

  “Cool. I’m going in to say goodbye to Sadie and her brother.” I squeeze my sister’s shoulder and slip inside.

  Sadie’s alone at the pinball machine, wiggling her entire body as she works the flippers. There had been a brief moment in time earlier this year when I’d thought I might hook up with her. She’s cute, but now that Leilani’s come into my life, I realize that I have zero chemistry with Sadie. Besides, Sadie's got the hots for the island's mayor. That’s what Nat says. She's a cool chick, though, and I like hanging out with her.

  “Hey, girl, I’m outta here,” I say.

  “Sweet. Catch you later. Can’t take my eyes off this game. See ya.” The machine lights up and makes little bloops and beeps. Sadie jumps into the air and whoops. For some reason, my sister and her friends are all into this particular machine — Roller Disco. It’s from the 1980s, and I think it’s a little ridiculous, but whatever.

  I climb in my truck and fire it up. My need to see Leilani is raging now. On the way, I spot a baby blue, 1965 Ford F150 truck parked in the lot of the island grocery.

  Perfect.

  The truck’s run by Manny, the guy who owns the Pink Orchid. Sometimes he sells flowers out of the back of the restored, vintage vehicle. Nat and Ma are always raving about the flowers that come from his truck, so I figure I might as well grab a bouquet for Leilani.

  I pull up alongside and roll my window down.

  “Hey, Manny,” I call out.

  He walks over and shakes my hand.

  “Do I pick out the flowers? How does this work?” I laugh as I climb out of the truck.

  “Nah, I’ve got you. How are your parents? Heard from Damien?”

  In the span of five minutes, we get the rundown of each other's families, and he gathers a bouquet that looks like it should be in a magazine or an Instagram spread. I hand him a fifty.

  “Keep the change,” I say, my heart swelling at how much Leilani’s going to dig this bouquet. It’s a riot of pink and purple, her favorite colors. “My girl’s going to go crazy over these.”

  I gently set the flowers on the passenger seat and drive away.

  My girl? Did I just call her my girl?

  I did, and it feels damned right. Because that’s what she is.

  I tear up the walkway to her bungalow, and rap on the door. Holding the flowers out in front of me, I beam when the door swings open.

  “Hey, beautiful,” I say, leaning in to kiss her.

  She sniffles. “Hey.”

  “Got these for you. Have you seen that flower truck around town? I passed by it just now and thought of you.” I press the bouquet into her hands.

  She stares at the flowers, then blinks. “They’re gorgeous. Thank you,” she says slowly. Then she sniffles again.

  I stroll into her condo and flop onto her light blue sofa. “You got a cold? Feeling okay? Why are you sniffling?”

  Because her place is small, and the kitchen is open to the living room, I watch as she bustles around, opening cabinets. She takes out a vase and fills it with water.

  “No, I’m not sick,” she says.

  “Good. Wouldn’t want you feeling bad for your big opening. How’s the project? Sorry to just bust in on you, but I wanted to see you. It’s been too long.”

  All her focus is on the flowers, and she’s arranging them in the vase. She carries it over to the dining table, which is where she stacks all of her notebooks. Then she sits at one of the chairs at the table.

  She’s in a little, pink, floral dress, and I can tell that she’s not wearing a bra. My dick jumps to life. Fuck, I'm horny as hell.

  “It has been a few days, hasn’t it, Remy?" Why does her voice seem so distant?

  “Beautiful, come on over and sit next to me.” I pat the sofa.

  Slowly, she rises and crosses the room. With an uncomfortable look, she perches on the far end of the sofa. I slide over and fold her into my arms.

  “Hey. I’ve missed you,” I whisper. “Come here. Kiss me.”

  I try to tilt her chin up, but she wriggles out of my arms. “Um, we need to talk.”

  Oh, shit. I’ve never been in a relationship, but I know that those four words — we need to talk — are never good.

  Chapter Nineteen

  LEILANI

  I hate confrontation.

  Probably because of what I went through with Brent. Or because my parents fought like Roman gladiators when I was a kid. Pitched battles, hurled plates, thrown punches, that sort of stuff. Maybe that’s why I hung in with Brent for so long — tolerating a level of verbal abuse was easier than courting confrontation.

  But I’m a new woman now, one that doesn’t hesitate to face problems head on. Right? I’ve gotten this far in my new life, so I need to face facts and tell Remy what I saw and how I feel. It’s only fair. And don’t I need to make myself a priority?

  I rub my lips together and stare at Remy, all sprawled out on my sofa. He’s so gorgeous, with his foxy smile and amber eyes, so at ease, wherever he goes. Whether it’s on my sofa or at a tiki bar with another woman, he just belongs.

  Except, he doesn’t belong in my condo. Not if I have any dignity left. I straighten my spine.

  “I saw you with another woman,” I say in a clear voice. “At Lime and Salt.”

  His eyes widen. Oh yeah, I’ve totally caught him. And he thought that a gorgeous bouquet would clear his conscience…

  “Hunh? What are you talking about?”

  My hands curl into fists. “You were sitting on that little deck of Lime and Salt, about an hour and a half ago. I bicycled over there to have a drink. That’s when I saw you. You were laughing as though she were the best comedian in the world. She had red hair. Big boobs. Super cute, in a black tank top. Don’t tell me I’m insane or that I was seeing things. I know what I saw.”

  Remy scoots away from me. “What? You should have called me. Why were you going to have a drink by yourself? I would have come to get you and we could’ve gone to the bar together.”

  “That’s not an answer to my question. Which means you were with her. And by the way, you’re not the boss of me.”

  “I’m aware I’m not the boss of you. Jesus. But I wanted to see you today. I’d called you earlier. I don’t understand.”

  “See how you’re diverting away from the real issue?”

  “There is no real issue,” he says, an edge to his voice.

  Instinctively, I shrink my body back, but I can’t help but unleash verbally. I unclench my hands and wave them in the air. “So you took out another woman instead, because I wasn’t available. Great. You couldn’t have me, so you trolled around and found someone else. Do you have women on speed dial in case your main fuck isn’t around? Am I even your main fuck?” I fold my arms across my chest. Now I’m pissed. Spoiling for a fight.

  “What? Is that what you think I feel about you? That you’re just my main fuck?” He sits up straight.

  I shrug. “Who knows?”

  He takes a big gulp of air. “I didn’t troll around. I don’t have a string of women on speed dial. And I don’t want anyone else. Don’t diminish what we have by calling yourself that. Christ.” He throws his hands in the air. “I was there with Nat, and then her friend Sadie came over and we got to talking. You probably saw us together when Nat was inside, playing pinball. Sadie was telling me all about some drunk tourists who’d been on her pirate ship.”

  I scowl at him. I’d gotten used to Brent lying to me about various things and I’m unsure if Remy’s telling the truth. That’s a p
roblem when you’ve been abused and the target of gaslighting. You never know when to believe someone.

  Or how to believe someone.

  “Hmm. I don’t know. You looked pretty cozy with her.”

  “Oh, babe,” Remy groans. “I wasn’t cozy at all. I was thinking of you the entire time. You gotta believe me. Please don’t be jealous.”

  He reaches for my hand and squeezes.

  “I’m not jealous.” I pause. “Okay, I’m a little jealous.”

  Remy chuckles and pulls me into his body, maneuvering me onto his lap. “You have nothing to be jealous about. Sadie also has a huge, unrequited crush on the mayor of Paradise Beach.”

  My brows knit together. “The guy who owns the hot dog cart? What’s the name of his business again? Am I thinking of the same guy?”

  “Yep. That one. It’s called I Dream of Weenie.”

  An unexpected laugh bubbles up in my throat. Remy chuckles, too. He says the hot dog cart’s name again, in a low, sexy voice. While kissing my cheek. So freaking adorable. I let out a sigh.

  “Look, Sadie’s a pistol, except when it comes to him. Nat tells me she’s totally smitten with him. There’s absolutely nothing between us. Never has been. Never will be.”

  I nod. “She was quite cute.”

  “I guess. Not as cute as you.”

  I press my forehead into the soft fabric of his T-shirt, feeling his muscles underneath. I shrug.

  “I thought you and Sadie knew each other. Thought Nat introduced you.” He strokes my hair.

  “No, not yet. Nat wants me to go out on her pirate ship some afternoon.”

  “Yep. That’s her gig. She’s cool. You’ll love her.”

  I sit up and face him. “I’m sure I will. I’m not jealous of her. I don’t hate her. I’m not trying to forbid you from seeing her, or want you to gouge your eyes out so you can’t look at other women.”

  He grins. “Good.”

  “I’m not like that. I just felt weird when I saw you together. Dammit, Remy. I don’t know what we’re doing here. We’re supposed to have a sex pact and be friends with benefits and all that. And I don’t know if you’re seeing other people, and I can’t stop you because you’re not mine and—”