Wicked Gentleman Page 2
Who hasn’t been shoved up against a dirty bathroom sink and been jack-hammered from behind?
This girl.
My sex life was on life support, and I was coming dangerously close to having the last rites read to my vagina.
After snagging a bottle of water from the fridge, I settled onto the wicker sofa that was much too large for this humble living room. The palm tree pattern was hideous but completely appropriate for Florida. Everywhere I looked I could feel my grandmother’s presence, from the sea shell lamp to the crazy collection of old wooden ships that lined her bookshelf. I didn’t have the heart to pack any of it away, besides it all added charming character to the space.
I opened my laptop and pulled up my email. After checking out the flash sale at Old Navy, I clicked on the email from my new boss. I scanned the message making sure I had all the details correct.
Dear Miss Brockman,
On behalf of Hart Resort & Spa I’d like to personally welcome you to the team. At Hart Hotels Inc. we are dedicated to providing our guests with the highest level of customer service. Our highly personalized, round the clock service combined with our elegant and luxurious surroundings are admired by many and replicated by none. We offer exceptional quality and our greatest asset is our people. You are now one of those people.
Please arrive at the Hart Resort & Spa Pro-Shop at 7:00 a.m. for your orientation. Lunch will be provided by our catering service. Upon completion of your training, you will receive a $300 club voucher where you will be able to shop our exclusive Hart Designs collection of golf wear.
Sincerely,
Carol Edgerton, Director of Hotel Operations
Hart Hotels Inc.
Nervous, I pulled up the notes app on my phone and typed all the important information. I planned to arrive early, and mapped out my route to Hart Resort. I’d actually driven it three separate times this past week and even planned an alternate route in case of traffic problems.
For good measure, I checked my spam filter in case anything got shuffled over by mistake. Nothing of importance. Just one person asking for $50,000 and a scam for Wal-Mart rewards points. Just click the link to the survey, and you’ll automatically earn one-hundred dollars in bonus points. Right.
The mention of Wal-Mart made me smile though it reminded me of Gran. When I’d spent a few weeks here with her last summer, the first thing she said we needed to do was hit Wal-Mart and grab some deals. I hated the place, but I’d indulge her because she loved using her coupons, especially when she could double or triple her savings.
One afternoon, as I was packing up the items she’d instructed be donated to the local women’s shelter, I’d discovered an envelope with several hundred dollars in Wally World gift cards in her coupon basket. There was no note about what was supposed to be done with them so I called my mom and she told me that Gran would want me to use them to buy groceries and essentials. And that is just what I’d done, but now I was down to my last hundred dollars. This job came in the nick of time, or else I would have been forced to dip into my savings.
That was not happening. Flashbacks to a conversation with my father in high school came flooding back. You can’t balance your finances for shit. You’re a stupid little girl. Just one more thing you managed to screw up.
I snapped my laptop shut, and shoved it under the coffee table. In desperate need of a shower, I made my way to the bathroom. After stripping out of my clothes, I tossed them into the hamper.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror. You are not stupid.
Tomorrow was a new day, filled with possibilities to be great.
HEFTING MY SHOPPING BAGS INTO my car, I was fully satisfied with my new work wardrobe. With, orientation and training complete, I was so ready for a drink. Sitting in a conference room for six hours watching videos and taking quizzes left me feeling stir crazy.
I slammed the trunk shut and walked around to the driver’s side. I’d just unlocked the door when I heard someone shouting my name.
“Stevie? Hey, Stevie!”
As I turned around, my ex, Cord Robinson stopped short of crashing into me.
“What the shit,” I mumbled.
“I thought that was you.” He removed his cap and wiped the sweat away with this forearm. “How did you find me here?”
Seriously? Arrogant ass. Of course, he would think I was here for him.
“Cord, I had no idea you were on Salissa Island. I came here for a job.”
“Oh, I see. Are you staying here at the hotel?” He seemed genuinely interested, but if he thought he could sweeten me up with small talk he’s out of his damn mind.
“No, my grandmother, Ruby left her place to me when she passed away just before my graduation.”
He flashed his charming smile at me, and then he opened his mouth. “Convenient graduation gift.”
I shot him a glare. “Yeah, Gran dying was a super awesome convenience.”
His shoulders slumped. “I didn’t mean it like that, and I am sorry to hear about your grandma, Ruby was a lovely lady.”
“Thank you. I miss her.”
I didn’t want to be nice to this man. Scanning the parking lot of the resort, I looked for anyone I might have recognized giving me a reason to check out of this conversation. No humans in sight. My eyes flicked to the pelican sitting on the post near the lake. He looked at me and then flew away. Even he didn’t have the decency to snatch me up and take me with him. I glanced at my watch hoping that Cord would take the hint.
“Are you hungry? Let’s grab some dinner. We could split a pitcher of beer like old times.”
Apparently, he didn’t get the signal. And why he would ever think I would have dinner with him was beyond me. That was rich.
I laughed in his face. “No, I do not want to have dinner or do anything with you for old times’ sake.”
He scowled. “Don’t be like that, okay?”
“You cannot be serious. There’s a reason we broke up and her name was Cindy,” I reminded him.
“Sandy,” he corrected, folding his arms across his broad chest.
“Oh, of course, excuse me for not knowing the correct name of your side piece.”
Cord’s remorseful eyes met mine, and for a moment I remembered all the good times we shared. We started dating the summer before my junior year of college. Cord was the Golf Pro at Sweet Water Country Club where I’d worked so many summers. I couldn’t believe that Cord Robinson was working at our club. Admittedly, I’d been a little star struck and nearly ran him over with a golf cart one morning. When he jumped out of the way, the coffee he’d been carrying had spilled all down the front of his shirt. I made it up to him by getting him another coffee, and a new shirt.
I never thought I’d be the girl who’d date an older guy. What would a twenty-six year old retired, semi-pro golfer have in common with a soon to be college junior? His passion for golf, and my appreciation of the sport brought us together along with crazy hot, instant chemistry.
Ughh. No, Stevie. He’s your past, and you need to leave him there. Digging deep I remembered the night I found out he’d cheated on me with Sandy, and how much he’d hurt me. There’s the anger I needed to tell him to take a hike.
“Cord, I need to get going, okay?”
“Not even one drink?”
“Nope.” I turned away from him, and opened the car door. I dipped my head and slid into the seat.
He took a step forward, catching the top of the door with his hand. “I’m not with Sandy anymore. Turns out she wasn’t a faithful girlfriend. So there’s your karma if that’s what you were looking for.”
A smug smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. Good you deserve that, you cheating dickhead. Saying nothing I jerked on the door. His fingers uncurled from the metal, allowing me to pull it closed.
Exiting the parking lot, I cranked up the radio. Maneuvering around the main road, I got up to twenty miles per hour and then my car slowed. The radio went silent, and the air conditioning stopped
working. I gave it a little more gas. Still nothing. I managed to coast to the back of the hotel parking lot, safely off the road and out of the view of guests. After the car was in park, I removed the key.
It was dead. D-E-A-D. I climbed out and stared blankly. “I have a full tank of gas. I just filled up this morning,” I said to no one.
I climbed into the driver’s seat turning the key once more. Nothing. Ughh. I stood and slammed the door closed.
Looking underneath, the hot pavement stung my hands. “Stupid car.”
“Having trouble?” I heard a deep voice say.
With my ass in the air and crouched down on all fours, I must have looked ridiculous. Standing upright it was just my luck to find a pair of gorgeous, intense blue eyes staring back at me. Trouble, I suppose he was the guy Taylor Swift warned us about.
This man was incredibly good-looking. Dressed in a graphite grey suit that looked seriously expensive. My slow reaction gave me a minute to assess the situation, the situation being this tall drink of water standing in front of me with the impossibly broad shoulders and a smile . . . well, that smile is where the trouble began.
“What was your first clue, my ass in the air?” I asked, shaking the remnants of earth from my hands.
“Well, the way your ass looks in those shorts, you did grab my attention.” His thumb grazed along his chin, a dirty glint shone in those blue eyes. “You want me to take a look?”
“You’re wearing a suit, should you be getting your hands dirty?”
“Just hand me the keys and if it comes to that I can show you just how good I am with my hands.”
“Key is in the ignition.”
“Let’s see what the problem seems to be.” Sidestepping me, he flashed that killer smile once again.
Did my panties melt and slide down my legs?
He eased into the driver’s seat and I watched as his left hand gripped the steering wheel. His fingers tapped against the wheel as he turned the key. Nothing.
He looked up at me. “I assume that you have plenty of gas?”
I nodded. “Yeah, I filled it up this morning.”
He ran his thumb along his jawline and stepped out of my car. “I’m going to get my car. I have jumper cables, we can give that a try.”
“Okay.”
Stammering and speaking only one word? This guy was around me for two minutes, and my tongue was rolling out of my mouth like a cartoon character.
Shaking off my personal embarrassment, I slumped into the driver’s seat. My head fell back and I closed my eyes. “Please, just let it be the battery.”
I heard the hum of an approaching engine and my eyes snapped open. A sleek black Range Rover parked in front of my puny blue Focus. I wondered what his job at the resort could be. If I was a betting gal, I’d say sales more than likely.
He shrugged out of his jacket, removed his tie, and then rolled up the sleeves of his white dress shirt exposing his holy fucking amazing forearms. Gahh female Viagra.
I watched him obsessively as he unzipped the cords from the bag and carefully affixed them to his battery then mine.
“Okay, go ahead get into your seat, and then on my direction turn the key.”
I nodded and did what I was instructed. Seconds later, he pointed his finger at me and I couldn’t help but smile. I turned the key, but nothing happened.
Fuck you! I bent my forehead to rest on the steering wheel.
I felt his shadow looming over me, and I lifted my head to see him smiling. What the fuck did he have to be so happy about? Oh yeah, he drove a Range Rover. A perfectly nice ride and probably never had car trouble.
“If that’s an offer we can work something out, I’m sure of it.”
I stared at him confused.
“You said, fuck you—out loud.”
I felt the blush creep up my neck and spread to my cheeks.
I chuckled nervously. “Sorry about that. I’m just having a not so great day. Well, actually it was a great day, but then I ran into someone . . .” I snapped my mouth shut.
“Please continue.” He smiled again.
“Okay, you have got to stop smiling because I’m having a hard time stopping myself from grinning like an idiot. You make me want to smile, and as you can see, I’m having a rather crap day.”
He laughed and walked back around the front of the car. “I don’t know what is wrong with your car. Do you have a company you can call for a tow?”
“No,” I answered truthfully. “Do you have any recommendations?”
“Yeah, I might know a guy.”
“Might or do?”
He shut the hood of his vehicle and then wiped his hands off onto a towel. This guy was certainly prepared. Probably a Boy Scout when he was younger.
He pulled his cellphone out of his pocket. “Hey, Liza, I need a tow at the hotel. No, a friend of mine, her car is out of commission. Can you send someone over to pick it up?”
Friends? When did we become friends?
He ended the call and I stared at him, my brows raised slightly.
“What?”
“Friends, huh?”
“Well, you did offer to fuck me, so I think that puts us on the fast track to friendship.”
“I did not offer,” I choked out, feeling somewhat shocked and embarrassed by his remark.
He shoved his cell into his back pocket. “The tow truck should be here soon. Can I drop you somewhere?”
“No, that’s okay. I can just take the bus.”
He eyed me. “I insist, let me save you the trouble of having to wait for the bus.”
This guy was quite the salesman. If I were any weaker, I’d probably have bought two timeshares and a month at a villa from him. “You’re not going to take no for an answer are you?”
“Nope.” He shook his head. “Go get your things. Be sure to grab your garage door opener, too . . . uhmm . . .”
Fantastic, now he was tongue tied. “It’s Stevie, and I don’t have a garage,” I tossed over my shoulder, lifting my tote bag and purse and then kicking the car door closed with my foot.
“Stevie,” he repeated, taking the bags from my hands. “Short for?”
“Nope, that’s it, just Stevie Nicole Brockman.” I had no idea why I felt compelled to divulge my entire name to him.
He smirked, and closed the door. “Good to meet you, Stevie Nicole Brockman.”
“You too, uhm?”
“Jax.”
Jax. He was beautiful in the way that wicked things were.
Thirty minutes later, I was cruising down the highway on the way to my apartment. In my hands I held a business card and information from the repair shop. My fingers rubbed over the raised lettering. I hoped nothing major was wrong with my car, but with my bad luck I was certain it would be an expensive repair.
My eyes flicked around his car, taking in the beauty of the interior. My navy shorts complimented the burgundy leather seats, and the dash was perfectly shiny and clean. No trace of a rogue French fry or empty water bottles on the floorboard of the backseat. This was a grown-up’s car.
I started to second guess myself, as I ran my fingers along the white stitching. The only other time I’d been seated in an expensive car was when Dan, Tiffany’s date for prom, drove us there in a rented Cadillac. Maybe I should have taken the bus.
At the red light, I looked over at Jax and lingered a bit too long with my stare. It couldn’t be helped; he was easy on the eyes. His jawline was covered in a sexy five o’clock shadow, the perfect amount of facial hair.
“I thought I knew everyone who worked at Hart Resort and Spa. But, you’re a new face to me.” He turned slightly to face me.
“Yeah, I’m a newbie. Caddying for the guests and today was my orientation.”
“And how did the training go?”
“It was okay, I guess. I could have done without the hours of videos, though. It’s pointless for me to know how to clean up a hazardous spill, or a public restroom. But, I did enjoy the rules for
properly cleaning a player’s balls.” A giggle bubbled up from my throat, but I quickly realized how immature I sounded. Heat crept over my cheeks. My eyes stayed glued to the windshield, afraid to look in his direction. At this point, he had to have been regretting his decision to offer me a ride.
“Yeah,” he chuckled. “Caddying and housekeeping training shouldn’t overlap.”
Okay, so maybe I hadn’t fully embarrassed myself. “What about you? Boring desk job?”
“Not always. I do get to travel from time to time.”
“My house . . . apartment is just up here on the left. You can turn at the light near the Dry Dock Bar and Grill.”
He laughed, and I nervously messed with my braided ponytail. There are only a few places in Salissa Island that were perhaps labeled as “run-down” and this area was definitely not as posh as the rest of the island.
“That has to be one of the worst names for a bar,” he huffed, and flicked his turn signal.
“Oh yeah, why is that?”
“Well it’s a bar, and word ‘dry’ is in the title.”
“That’s not so bad. What’s in a name anyway?”
“True. I think I just find it ironic.”
I snuck another look at him, spying the corner of his mouth turned up. He even had perfect lips, and I wondered what it might be like to kiss him. Wow. I just took a hard left into Fantasy Island.
“Speaking of worst names,” I began trying to shake the crazy fantasy from my head. “My friend tends bar at Quench. It’s my favorite spot. That’s where I was going to go after work, but now with my car situation, I shouldn’t spend any extra money.” I’d done it again, giving up personal information. Rambling was a specialty of mine.
Jax shot a glance my way. “Yep, I’ve been there, coldest beer on tap in town. I’d love to know their secret.”
“The secret to what?”
“How they get their beer to stay so cold.”