Page 5 of Playing It Forward

She smiles at me. I don’t know her well – or at all really – but I can tell it’s fake. “How can I help you, Mr. Allen?”

Mr. Allen? She knows my name. “You know who I am.”

She starts to roll her eyes but stops and clears her throat. “Of course. You’re a valuable guest at Hideaway Haven Resort.”

“And you work at the resort as a bartender.” I nod to the tray of drinks she’s carrying.

She blinks down at the tray. “I’m the events coordinator. But I help out where I can.”

“How nice of you.”

She shrugs and the tray of drinks wobbles.

“Careful.”

“Careful? Why? Is Ava sneaking up on me again?” She glances behind her – oblivious to the tray in her hands – and the tray wobbles again. I try to catch it, but before I can, it tips over, and the glasses crash into Terri’s chest.

“What the mermaid!” She drops the tray, and the glasses shatter on the floor.

She stares down at the mess for a moment before hurrying into action. “Stay here. I’ll get a broom.”

She scurries away and I follow her. She opens a closet and grabs a broom. When she turns around, she bumps into me. I steady her with a hand on her shoulder.

“What are you doing?”

I nudge her backwards into the closet. I switch on the light and shut the door behind me.

“I’m not going to assault you.” I raise my hands in the air and back up as far away from her as possible in a tiny closet. “But I thought you should know your top is soaked and it’s see-through.”

She gasps. “See-through?” She glances down at her blouse and cringes.

“Flying pirates. I never should have worn this to work. It’s not work appropriate, but I thought…”

I don’t know what she thought because my brain can no longer follow her words since she’s unbuttoning her top. My mouth waters to touch her skin. Is it as smooth as it appears? My cock twitches. It wants to more than touch. It wants to sink into her.

I whirl around to face the door.

“What are you doing? Don’t just stand there. Help me.”

“How am I supposed to help you?”

“This is a supply closet. There must be towels somewhere.”

Of course. I should have thought of the towels myself. But there wasn’t enough blood flow to my brain for thoughts of towels.

I search the shelves. I don’t find any towels. But I do find some napkins. They’ll have to do.

I face Terri and freeze. She’s now standing in her bra – her white, lacy bra that does nothing to hide her nipples.

“Um… you’re…” I motion toward her chest.

“Oh, please. You’ve probably seen more women’s chests than a gynecologist.”

I bristle. “I’m not Tanner Long. I’m not a player.”

“Whatever. Are you going to help or what?”

I hold up the napkins. “I have these. Do you want me to…?”