Sweet Surrender Page 7

  When his heartbeat had slowed to a somewhat normal rate—that of a horse galloping through the countryside, rather than one in the Kentucky Derby— he kissed her again. Softly. Swiftly.

  “I should go before this goes too far,” he said.

  “Would it be bad if I said I didn’t want you to leave?” her voice was barely a breath of a whisper.

  Ian laughed. “Not at all. I want to stay, Caty, but I don’t want you to hate yourself or me tomorrow. Besides, I’ve got a wedding cake to bake in the morning. I’ll give you a call in the afternoon. If you’re free tomorrow night, we could have dinner again?”

  “Two nights in a row? Watch out, Casanova. The natives will talk.”

  “Let ‘em.”

  ~*~

  Dinner didn’t happen the next night, or even the day after that, but Ian had called—several times. And in between the calls he’d sent her funny little texts that made her laugh and smile. She had been looking forward to that second dinner, to set the gossiping tongues of Mimosa Key wagging, but she got it. Weddings took a lot of work. Making the perfect cake took hours. Days really. Besides, she kind of enjoyed the little getting-to-know-you game the two of them had engaged in.

  One thing she had learned was that Ian told the worst jokes. Seriously. She’d heard better from five-year-olds. On Friday, a gorgeous bouquet of blue and purple orchids had arrived. The card had simply read, ‘Thinking of you, Ian.’

  In all the years she’d been with her ex, he’d never once sent flowers. Not on her birthday or anniversary or even when they’d had a killer fight. Ian’s flowers were currently in the middle of her kitchen table, but last night she had placed them on her dresser so they’d be the first thing she saw when she woke up. And thankfully, today is the wedding day.

  She’d already made her morning delivery to the Twisted Pelican and dropped off their desserts for the night. As soon as she delivered the batch of strawberry cream cheese cupcakes to Mandy, she was free for the day and could prepare for her night with Ian.

  The main parking lot of Casa Blanca was packed. Not surprising with the wedding set to get underway in less than an hour. So Caty bypassed it and drove around to the small lot near the bungalows used by Mandy and the security staff. This was an area of the resort most guests didn’t see, but was every bit as lush and gorgeous as the rest. Tessa Galloway Browning, part owner and wife to Chef Ian Browning, had her farmette back here where she grew all the resort’s fresh herbs and vegetables. It was like being in another world. Paradise.

  Caty turned off the car and took a deep breath as she climbed out. The salty air, pungent with plant life and a tinge of fertilizer, filled her lungs and caused her eyes to water a bit. Guess every paradise has to have a downside. She grabbed the box of sweets from the back, glared at the two chirping birds that landed on the branch over her clean car, and headed down the path.

  “Knock, knock,” she called out as she walked into the office. Caty looked around the small space that had originally been built as staff quarters. It was really just a one-bedroom bungalow with a living room/kitchen combo, a bedroom and a bath. She knew that Mandy used the bedroom now as a storeroom for cleaning supplies. Setting the cupcakes on the kitchen counter, she went find her friend. As she reached for the storeroom door, Tricia walked into the office.

  “Hey girl, did you bring us more of your yummy cupcakes?” The young housekeeper was already heading toward the counter before Caty could respond.

  Caty just laughed. There was nothing better than seeing someone enjoy the fruits of her labor. “I’m glad you like them.”

  “Like is such a weak word. Love.” Tricia took a bite, closing her eyes and sighing deeply. “Isamutbutterword.”

  Caty’s brain turned the scrambled sounds coming out of Tricia’s mouth into what she thought might be “is a much better word.” The girl might be her biggest fan, based on the fact that she was reaching for a second cupcake. “I think you might be bordering on addiction, but that’s okay. Just keep spreading the word and I’ll keep supplying your habit. Hey, have you seen Mandy around?”

  “Oh yeah.” Tricia licked the crumbs from the corner of mouth. “She had to run up to the main office. Said if I saw you to send you that way. My parents’ anniversary is next month. Do you think you could make a cake for their party?”

  “Of course.” Caty and Tricia worked out the details before Caty thanked her and headed out to find her friend. Light strains of music and laughter floated over the air as Caty got closer to the main building with its white stucco walls and red-tiled roof. Most likely the wedding guests mingling before the big event were enjoying all that Casa Blanca had to offer while they could, which was a lot. Caty didn’t blame them, as the place was breathtaking. It was like stepping into a modern Moroccan oasis with everything you could want for a relaxing vacation—pool, spa, gourmet food, crystal clear waters lapping at white sand beach—or a dream wedding.

  Caty wandered along a tree-lined path that took her over a little wooden bridge spanning across a stream. She stopped here just to enjoy the view. The Barefoot Brides had been busy that morning and several white-topped tents were set up on the beach not far from the pool and restaurant patio. A bit further down the beach sat a colorful hot-air balloon. The balloon itself lay across the sand, uninflated, while a petite blonde and two men walked around it and the basket.

  “Caty, right?”

  She’d been so engrossed in the balloon setup that she hadn’t noticed the dark-haired woman join her. “That’s me, and you’re one of the Barefoot Brides. Ari McBain.”

  “Good memory. Rumor has it you were dropping off more cupcakes today.” Ari watched the activity around the balloon with Caty, not seeming to have a care in the world, even with a wedding about to take place.

  “Strawberry cream cheese. They’re in Mandy’s office. That is if Tricia left any for the rest of the staff.” Movement under the white tent caught Caty’s attention and she shifted to get a better view. Ian was prepping for the cake setup.

  “Are you still planning to enter the Bonanza bake off at the festival?” Ari’s ebony eyes searched Caty’s face before she turned to watch the action on the beach.

  “Yes, of course. Why do you ask?”

  Ari glanced down at her watch, pulled out her phone and her fingers flew across the keypad. “Sorry. It’s almost show time. I’d heard you and Ian O’Malley had dinner the other night at Junonia.”

  “So?” Caty had no idea what one had to do with the other or why it mattered to this woman. She was about to tell her it was none of her business and then remembered who she was and bit her tongue.

  Ari smiled. “You want to tell me to mind my own business. I get it. It’s just that I saw the way he looked at you and you at him. This might sound crazy, but I think he’s The One.”

  “The one what?” This conversation is getting stranger and stranger by the minute.

  “Your one true love. My Grandma Good Bear always told me she believed that each of us has one true match and when you meet them, you’ll know it. What I’ve learned is that some of us deny it, but I’ve gotten pretty good with at being able to spot the real deal. The couples that are true matches. And I think you and Ian are it.”

  “Ari, that’s ridiculous.” She let out a sigh and looked across the beach to the tent. Ian had turned and was now watching her. She gave him a smile and waved. “I don’t even know if I believe in true love anymore. Lust? Now that’s something I believe in and yeah, I’ll admit to that.”

  “You know what’s funny? I didn’t believe her either. She told me when I met The One, my heart would feel like it was expanding to, quote, ‘make room for love that will last a lifetime.’ My spine would tingle and shoot sparks to my fingertips until I touched him. I’d see white lights in my head and my body would go numb. Sounds insane, right?”

  “Not to be rude, but you said it.”

  “Honestly, I thought she’d filled my head with the fantasy of The One to keep me from messing ar
ound with boys.”

  Caty laughed and gave Ari’s grandmother kudos for trying. “Not a bad plan, although I’m not sure an effective one.”

  “More so than you’d think.” Ari turned back to face her. “Here’s the thing. When I met Luke, my husband, I felt all those things.”

  Caty held up her hands. “Ari, it’s a lovely story, but I don’t get why you’re telling me any of this. None of that happened to me the first time I met Ian or when we ran into each other again. None of that happened even happened when he kissed me. Well, there might have been lightheadedness because I forget to breathe, and there was definitely tingling going on.”

  Ari gave her a little shoulder nudge as the two of them laughed. “Look, from what I saw there is some serious chemistry brewing between the two of you. The bake off will be great PR for the both of you just don’t let it come between you. I think you’d regret it.”

  They didn’t have time to talk more as Ari’s phone rang and she said goodbye as she hurried to handle last minute details before the wedding started.

  Chapter Seven

  As Saturday afternoon rolled into evening, Ian was still smiling and why the hell shouldn’t he? The bride had been thrilled with her cake. The Barefoot Brides had been ecstatic with him—from charming the mother-of-the-bride, who had wanted something totally different than her daughter, to his chipping in to help with a few unexpected setup snafus before the guests arrived, and everything in between. Plus, Caty had bought him worms.

  Pretty sure that means she likes me. The thought had him grinning again. He knew he probably looked like a demented fool with his perma-grin and chuckling to himself, but he didn’t give a damn. He’d dated enough women to know Caty was the real deal. Over the years he’d been given expensive bakeware. Tickets and passes to concerts, movie premiers and A-list events. Electronics and techware. None of it came close to Caty’s gift.

  He reached into the back seat of his Mustang and grabbed the bags of food he’d picked up from the Twisted Pelican, along with the six-pack of Dos Equis. He’d taken no more than a few steps when he stopped. It had only been three days. They’d only had one date. He hadn’t been able to get Caty out of his mind—thoughts of her consumed him night and day. It was too soon. This is not what he wanted.

  He turned to go back, to leave. He’d just hop in his car and head to the mainland, send her a text with some lame excuse, and find someone else to spend his evening with. That’s all he needed. This crazy little place had finally gotten to him. He should have known he couldn’t handle living on an island. Hell, did it even qualify as an island? The place was what, twelve miles long, eight miles wide. More like a spit of sand.

  The air chilled around him, sending shivers along his spine.

  Great. Just what he didn’t need.

  “You gonna stand on her lawn all night, boy?” O’Malley’s face shimmered and faded, but Ian knew he was still there.

  Ian pressed the palm of his hand against his chest, massaging the pressure. “This isn’t what I wanted.”

  The ghost laughed. “Love seldom waits for us to invite it into our lives, my boy.”

  “We’ve only been on one date.”

  “I knew Siobhan was the one for me before we even had our first date. By the end of the night, I was madly in love with the woman.”

  “I’m not in love, old man.”

  “Give it time, Ian, my boy. Give it time.”

  Ian let his breath out slowly, hoping it’d ease the pressure. He really didn’t need to have a heart attack on Caty’s front lawn. “Gramps, I didn’t come home to find a wife.”

  “No, you came home to find a life.” The cool air shifted, wrapped around him and pushed him forward. “Well then, go to her. She’s…what is she doing? Having a stroke?”

  Ian looked up and almost dropped the six-pack. Caty stood in front of the large kitchen window, her back to him. She had piled her hair up on top of her head and wore a summer top barely held in place with skinny straps. He smiled as she gave a little shimmy and shake, dancing across the kitchen.

  He laughed as she dropped into a classic air guitar stance, then threw her hands up and resumed her sexy little moves. “She’s dancing.”

  “And they said my generation didn’t know how to dance,” O’Malley grumbled.

  Ian didn’t know about that, but he knew what he saw before him: a playful, fun, slightly wild, sensual woman hiding behind the face Caty showed the world.

  Every instinct in him said to run, run in the opposite direction, to get in his car and not stop driving until he hit the Pacific. This—whatever this was—wasn’t what he wanted, especially with another baker whom he’d have to worry about being in constant competition with, but it was his to claim. All he had to do was walk through that door.

  “Such a pretty lass. A bit strange, but who I am to judge? You and your gram talk to dead people.”

  Ian chuckled because the man had a point. As she continued with her dance routine, Ian lost the urge to run and instead wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and dance. He’d put on something slow and sultry, not that he wasn’t enjoying whatever she had on now with the way her hips moved. “No, she’s beautiful.”

  He took a step forward and the normal, humid air of Florida swamped him.

  “Yeah, it’s okay, Gramps. I’ve got this.” Ian took a few more minutes to enjoy the show. She was really getting into the act when she spun around and her gaze met his. Ian held up the food bags and continued to the door. Caty met him with a slow smile and pretty pink cheeks.

  Bob Seger played in the background.

  “How long were you standing out there?” she asked.

  “Long enough to know you’re a closet rocker.” He kissed her forehead and walked her backward until he reached the kitchen where he could put the food and beer down. Then he did what he’d been dying to do for the past three days.

  He took Caty Kennedy in his arms and kissed her.

  She tasted as sweet and as addictive as the finest European chocolate. She looked up at him with those warm eyes as her arms twined around his neck, the smile blossoming on her face.

  “Well, hello to you too.” She laughed. “I could get used to that kind of greeting, but I hope you brought dinner as promised because I’m starving.”

  “Dinner, dessert and maybe more if you’re good.”

  Her lips curved up, turning the sweet smile into a dare. “Now where’s the fun in that? Didn’t you know good girls rarely make history—or have fun?”

  “True,” he murmured as he nibbled along her jawline to the soft spot below her ear. If he kept this up they’d never get to dinner, and while Caty seemed more than ready to skip the meal and dive right into the after-dessert treats, he wasn’t sure he was ready. And that thought alone should be a requirement for him to hand in his man card. Turning down a beautiful woman? Yep, he’d lost his mind. “We should eat before it gets cold. You said you were starving and I can’t have you passing out later on.”

  She slid her arms from around his neck and stepped to the side and around the counter. “If I didn’t know better, Ian O’Malley, I’d say you were trying to wine me and dine me.”

  He pulled the covered dishes out of the bag and set them out before following her around the island counter. “Would that be so bad?”

  She paused in front of the open cupboard and looked at him. “I don’t know. It’s not what I was expecting. Not really what I wanted or was thinking about at this point in my life, but I like you, Ian. I like spending time with you.”

  He paused with his hands on the plates in the open cabinet over her head. Now he looked down into her pretty face, with those eyes that seemed to see more than they should, to say more than was she was ready to say.

  “Is that a yes?” It had better be because he had no intention of walking away, nor was he looking for a quick one-night stand.

  Caty stood on her tiptoes and brushed her lips across his. “Yes.”

  “Good. Now
let’s eat, so I have the strength to ravish you later.”

  She laughed and ducked out from under his arms to grab the silverware.

  “Promises, promises.”

  Together they dished up the jambalaya, grabbed a beer, and headed to the living room. He hadn’t even realized how hungry he was until they’d popped the tops off the takeout containers. Instead of the woman in front of him, he focused on the aromas of spicy andouille sausage, chicken, and sweet shrimp wafting in the air, tantalizing his taste buds.

  “How did the wedding go?” Caty sat with her legs curled up under her, facing him on the loveseat. She blew on the hot rice and Ian’s brain blanked for a moment as he pictured those sweet lips of hers on his skin.

  “Uh, good. Everyone was happy. The bride and groom said ‘I do’ and no fights broke out.”

  “And really, who could ask for more than that?”

  They sat quietly eating with old-school rock playing in the background, which made him think of her shaking her booty across the kitchen when he’d arrived, which in turn had him shifting to release the pressure from the front of his shorts.

  “Everything okay?” Caty asked as she sat her plate on the coffee table.

  “Why didn’t you stop and say hi today when you were at the resort?” He’d seen her talking with Ari and hoped she’d come talk to him. Hell, he’d done just about everything to will her over, short of waving her down or yelling her name.

  “You didn’t need me distracting you.” Too late for that.

  Caty shifted, leaning back, as she snuggled her toes under the edge of his leg. He set his empty plate down, picked up one foot, and ran his thumb across the arch.

  A whimper escaped her lips. “Oh my gawd. Please, don’t stop.”

  “So what were you doing at the resort?”

  “Dropping off more birthday cupcakes for Mandy’s crew.” The look of ecstasy was briefly replaced with a scowl. He softened the pressure, thinking he’d pressed too hard, when Caty opened one eye and glared. “You’re not done are you?”