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“Can’t or won’t?”
“Take your pick. The result’s the same.” When he reaches the Jeep, he hops over the driver’s door instead of opening it. It’s a bit of a slick move, reminding me of Luke Duke in the Dukes of Hazard. (Not the movie, the old TV series. My dad used to watch reruns with me when I was little, and I was solidly in the Luke camp. Bo’s cute, too, though.) Actually, this guy kind of reminds me of Luke. Tall, dark hair, and devilishly handsome. Except this guy is also built like a tank. All muscles on his muscles.
Oh, my God, Paige! Stop ogling him! You’re in the middle of a crisis! “Please, I’ll pay you anything. I’ve got, like, four hundred dollars left on my credit card. Well, maybe a little closer to three, but it’s all yours. For just a tiny piece of your day.”
He starts up the engine. “Sorry, sweetheart, I don’t leave the ground for under five hundred.”
I reach out and touch his forearm. “Please. I’m desperate. I need to get to my sister’s wedding. I’m one of the bridesmaids and the pictures are going to start in a few minutes. If I’m not there, she’ll never forgive me.”
His face softens. “I wish I could help you, but there’s a storm blowing in from the south. Too dangerous. There’s no way you’re getting to Lover’s Cay today.”
I burst into tears, too upset to be humiliated. That’ll come later I’m sure, but for now, there’s only the soul-crushing defeat of having spent the past fifty-five hours in airports and on planes, only to get this close, and not be able to make it.
I nod at him and whisper, “Thanks, anyway.” Then I turn and slink away, dragging my suitcases along the tarmac.
I look up in time to see him pulling out of the parking lot and onto the highway, then I make my way back to my bench and dig around in my purse for my phone. I’m going to have to call my mom and fess up. This is going to be ugly. For like, the next twenty-five years of my life. Farts.
Chapter 2
Mac
I pull onto the highway and start for home. I’ve been up since four in the morning to do a sunrise tour over the island, then I shuttled some rich people to Grenada because they wanted to switch Sandals Resorts. All I want to do is go home, have a beer and fall asleep in my hammock for a few hours.
I made the right choice to refuse that last job. I know I did. I don’t want anything to do with that girl because I know her type, and her type is nothing but trouble, no matter how drop-dead gorgeous she is. That long, bouncy brunette hair, those full pink lips, all those curves just making my hands itch to touch them…dammit if it hasn’t been too long since I’ve had a woman.
But I don’t want that one. No way, no how.
I turn on the radio and the DJ’s voice comes on. “…The storm is set to hit St. Lucia at three pm today. The Coast Guard has issued a request for all boats to come back to shore immediately…”
I shut off the radio and glance at the clock. It’s five after one. I could totally make it to Lover’s Cay and back in plenty of time. An image flashes through my mind. It’s the pain in the ass walking back to the deserted airport with her shoulders slumped over. I know she’s sitting on a bench right now, crying her eyes out. I feel a pang in my chest.
No, I’m not going to change my mind. This is not my problem. Don’t go taking in another stray, now, Mac. The last one bit you.
I think of her face as it crumpled up and she started sobbing.
“Goddammit.”
I turn the jeep around and go back, regretting what I’m doing before I even do it. When I stop in front of her, she’s got her eyes shut tight and she’s talking on the phone. She’s too engrossed in the conversation to notice me pull up next to her.
“That is so unfair, Mom! I’ve spent the last fifty-five hours in airports and on planes! I haven’t showered in days! The last meal I had was a tiny package of peanuts yesterday. I’m tired and starving and broke and now I’m stuck here at the airport and—.”
I get out of the jeep and clear my throat loud enough for her to hear. She stops talking and looks up at me.
“Let’s go,” I tell her.
She stands and quickly starts gathering her things with one hand. “Mom! I might just make it after all! I think I found a lift!”
Hanging up the phone, she looks overly excited. “Really? You’ll really take me?”
“So long as you don’t waste any more time yakking. I’m serious about that storm. I want to be back here on solid ground in forty-five minutes.”
“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” She throws her arms around my neck and gives me a huge kiss on the cheek. Well, that wasn’t so horrible. For someone who says she hasn’t showered, she sure smells nice—like vanilla shampoo or something. My cock wakes up and asks what we’re up to. Nothing, unfortunately. Wrong kind of ride.
“Sorry!” she says, blushing. “I’m just so excited.”
“I can tell.” I lift her suitcases and pop them in the backseat. “Get in.”
She runs around to the other side of the Jeep and climbs in. “I’m Paige, by the way. Paige Stanwood.”
