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I look down to confirm my breasts are still somewhat contained in the bikini top. I blanch at how much skin is showing. A lot. Holy hell. I shift material to the right, but then my nipple almost pops out, so yeah, we’ll just leave it as it is.
A few minutes later, Blaze leaves his station carrying what look to be two innocuous water cups. I know because when guests order at the bar, their drinks come in fancy resort-branded cocktail glasses. These are boring clear plastic. When Blaze reaches us, he leans down and explains in a hushed conspiratorial tone, “Vodka sodas with a splash of lime.”
“Yes!” Lara says, taking hers greedily. “You’re the best.”
I give him a big smile. “Awesome. Thanks, Blaze.”
“No problem, Paula.”
Wait.
Hold the phone.
Paula?
Lara snorts and nearly chokes on her drink.
Okay, so this isn’t exactly great, but it’s totally understandable! Blaze has only worked here for what? Two months? And we’ve only met a dozen or so times. It could happen to anyone. It’s cute, actually. We’ll be laughing about this moment next year when we’re celebrating our one-year anniversary.Remember when you didn’t even know my name?! Ha ha ha.
I’m about to clarify—sweetly, of course!—that my name is actually Paige, not Paula, but Blaze’s attention cuts to something over our heads on the opposite side of the pool. His easygoing expression is wiped clean in an instant. The color starts to drain from his face.
Obviously, I turn to see what could possibly have him looking so worried.
It’s Cole.
Of course.
He’s standing on the pool’s edge in a suit and tie. A menace in navy blue.
He’s not scowling, not firing off uncouth threats. But all the same, he sends Blaze packing, running back to his spot at the grotto bar like his life depends on it.
Wonderful.
Cole doesn’t look at me. He watches Blaze with his astute glare until he’s working again, faster than ever.
Cole is far enough away that he wouldn’t hear me unless I shouted, so I’m forced to use telepathy.
Good going, jerk.
His gaze finally flits to me, then down to my vodka soda.
What’s in the cup, Paula?
I hate you.
During this heated standoff, a resort guest walks up to Cole to ask him a question, and Cole’s entire demeanor changes, that smile, thoseeyes. He can be so charming if only he wants to be. With me, heneverwants to be.
Lara lets out a slow, steadying breath. “Jesus, that man can wear a suit. God, look at his butt.”
“I would rather permanently lose my vision.”
“You’re missing out. It’s perfect.”
“Perfect.Pfft.Hardly.”
“Oh, look who’s coming . . .”
Just as the hotel guest walks away, a pretty blonde with red-stained lips strolls up to Cole and touches his arm.
