Something to Believe In Read online

  All in all, things were looking up.

  Now, if only everyone would stop treating her as if she were going to break.

  Apparently, one suicide attempt was enough to put you on permanent mental health watch.

  She smiled in spite of the topic, noticing Maho, her adopted cat, winding his way between her legs, meowing for her attention. She picked him up and cradled the cat like a baby.

  “Lilah, what did I tell you about that cat?” Lora said, entering from the private section of the resort, wearing a frown. “I know it’s a lost cause to ask that you find a different home for him, but at the very least, please don’t keep him at the front desk. What if our guests come in with allergies?”

  Lilah shrugged. She used to worry about her sisters’ approval or disapproval, as it were, but not anymore. She knew there were bigger issues to worry about on any given day and potential dander allergens for guests was not one of them. “When is Lindy flying in?” she asked, pressing a quick kiss on the top of the cat’s head before gently setting him on the floor.

  “She had to reschedule her flight,” Lora said. “Something about Carys’s school and not being able to get her independent study approved. Sorry, Li, but she said she’ll be on a plane as soon as possible.”

  “It’s okay,” Lilah said, smiling to hide her disappointment and her mild irritation that everyone felt the need to tiptoe around her feelings. It wasn’t as if she were going to fling herself into the sea with every drop of bad news. She twisted a hank of her long hair and secured it to the top of her head in a messy knot, then busied herself with straightening the desk. “It isn’t that big of a deal.”

  “I know, but you miss her so much when she’s gone. I wish I could understand that twin thing but...well, it’s a mystery to me.”

  Lilah’s smile widened at her sister. To look at Lora today was to see a woman transformed by the power of love. Corny as it sounded, it was true. Lora had once been a royal bitch to put it lightly. Now, she was still Type A—which rubbed against Lilah’s naturally creative and flighty Type B personality—but at least now she didn’t make small children cry with a look from those witchy blue eyes. “It’s okay. Besides, now that she’s engaged to the CEO of a multimillion dollar company, her visits aren’t so few and far between.”

  “Gabe has been good for Lindy,” Lora agreed. “And not just because of his frequent-flier miles.”

  Lilah chuckled. “Yes. He’s been pretty good. I wish I could’ve seen her first play. I’m sure she was amazing.”

  Since moving from Los Angeles to San Francisco, Lindy had hooked up with a theater group that actually appreciated her acting talents and not just her pretty face and body. For that, Lilah was inordinately grateful. She’d always been uncomfortable with the lifestyle Lindy had been immersed in while living in L.A.

  “Are you thinking of going out tonight?” Lora asked, switching gears.

  Her tone was innocent enough but the concern beneath the innocuous query smacked of trepidation. Lilah withheld her annoyance, knowing her sister’s concern was coming from an honest place but it raked against her raw nerves all the same.

  “I’m just wondering... Thought maybe I’d go with you,” Lora added, trying to offer a plausible excuse.

  Lilah gave her sister a knowing look. “You haven’t been interested in going out in years but suddenly you want to spend a night out on the town?”

  “That’s not true,” Lora protested, going so far as to seem wounded. “I didn’t have time to go out before...now I do.”

  Lilah sighed. It was pointless to argue. Lora wasn’t going to admit she was being overprotective. “I was thinking of going to the Rush Tide. There’s going to be a live band tonight. Reggae.”

  Lora tried not to wrinkle her nose but Lilah knew her sister hated reggae almost as much as she hated jazz. Finally, Lora gave up on the false smile she had frozen in place and broke down to admit, “No, you know I hate reggae. Gives me a headache.”

  Lilah smiled and glanced away, privately relieved. It wasn’t that she didn’t love her sister, but since the whole embarrassing incident happened a few months ago, she’d been trying to get her head on straight and so far, she was succeeding. But when her sisters handled her with kid gloves, it made her want to do something recklessly stupid. And Lilah knew that wasn’t a healthy impulse.

  “All right, Celly is taking the night shift then?” Lora asked, and Lilah nodded. “Okay. Well...have fun and be safe. Are you meeting friends at least? I hate the idea of you going out alone. I know you don’t worry about this, but there are freaks out there. It’s not the same island we grew up on.”

  “You worry too much,” Lilah said, but the dark, pained look Lora flashed gave away her guilt. Somehow Lora thought she was responsible for what Lilah had done. It didn’t matter how many times Lilah assured her nothing she’d said or done had been part of her thought process the day she’d walked into the ocean and tried to drown herself, but it didn’t matter. Lora shouldered that guilt nonetheless. Lilah sighed, hating how everything had changed. She almost wished Lora would just snap at her and stop acting like a neutered dog.

  “Yeah, I’m meeting Stacy at the bar for hot wings before the show,” Lilah lied for Lora’s sake. Maybe if she thought she was meeting up with friends she’d lose that perpetually worried frown line creasing her forehead whenever they talked.

  “Oh, good,” Lora said, openly relieved and breathing easier. “I’m glad to hear it. Okay, well, have fun and be safe out there.”

  Lilah nodded. Watching as Lora walked away, she wondered if there’d ever come a day when everything would be normal again.

  Likely not.

  Her family was suffering from a psychic scar that she created and she didn’t know how to fix that. Dr. Veronica said time would help but Lilah was afraid she’d broken something intangible and there would be no going back to what once was.

  And a part of her was okay with that because to go back to what it was like before would be to return to those dark days of endless insomnia and the suffocating cloak of sadness that dragged on her shoulders each day.

  A delicate shudder followed the thought. No, she thought fiercely, anything was better than that, even if it meant fielding her sisters’ overprotective questions and putting up with their worried expressions each time she sneezed or wasn’t smiling.

  She took a sip of her iced tea just as a tall, lean but well-built man walked into the lobby. His expensive Teva sandals and equally expensive sunglasses gave him the air of someone accustomed to fine things, even on vacation. While Lilah would ordinarily steer clear of such a self-important ninny, a smile warmed her mouth as if she was helpless to prevent it. For the first time in months, Lilah felt the faint tingle of attraction. It’d been so long since she’d felt anything remotely resembling attraction that at first she didn’t recognize the feeling.

  The man walked to the desk with a lazy gait, alternately taking in the surroundings and Lilah in turn. It appeared by his widening smile that he appreciated both.

  “Welcome to Larimar,” Lilah said brightly. “Do you have a reservation?”

  “Not yet,” he said, his New York–accented voice sending goose bumps rioting up and down her forearm. He removed his sunglasses and leaned into the counter, his brown eyes gazing at her with such impish playfulness that Lilah immediately smiled in return as he said, “Here’s the deal, seems my hotel double booked my reservation and I need a place to crash for a few days. I asked
around and the locals said Larimar was a pretty nice place. I can see they weren’t lying,” he added, openly flirting with her. “What’s your name, gorgeous?”

  “Lilah,” she answered. “And yours?”

  “Justin—” there was the slightest of pauses “—Cales.”

  Nice name. It rolled off the tongue like a fine wine. “Well, Mr. Cales, you’re in luck. We happen to have a bungalow open. It’s the prettiest one, too,” she confided. “It even has an open-air shower big enough for two.” She met his stare boldly, not caring that she was flirting shamelessly. Lindy would’ve been so proud.

  His grin deepened, revealing the cutest dimple she’d ever seen. He was gorgeous, no doubt about it and she wouldn’t mind getting to know him better. Those dimples alone should be against the law. It’d been a while since she’d had anyone to cuddle with. She didn’t care for the term boyfriend. She much preferred to consider her love interests as friends, though not friends with benefits because that just sounded wrong. Besides, life was too short for labels anyway. Lora’s voice in her head reminded her of one of the rules: no fooling around with the resort guests, and Lilah’s mood dampened slightly. Although, Lindy broke that rule and it seemed to have worked out fairly well for her.

  Technically, this guy would only be their guest for two days.

  After that, he was fair game.

  “I don’t think I can resist the temptation of an open-air shower big enough for two,” Justin said with mock seriousness as he handed her a platinum credit card. “Does it come with room service?”

  She offered a throaty laugh, unable to stop flirting. There was something about him that drew her and she had no interest in fighting it. Dr. Veronica said she needed to start interacting with people outside of her comfort zone. Well, now seemed like the time to give that a try.

  “Your room key, Mr. Cales,” she said. “Enjoy your stay.”

  He accepted the key and grinned as he shouldered his bag. “Something tells me I will.”

  And something told her, she was going to make sure of it.

  CHAPTER TWO

  JUSTIN FOUND THE BUNGALOW and let himself in. It smelled of coconut and lavender and he half wondered if the cute receptionist smelled nearly as good. He had definitely caught the vibe from the slender blonde that she was game for a little fun if he was interested. And he was definitely interested. She’d been just the right kind of woman for his tastes, willowy with bee-stings for breasts, and doll-like blue eyes that a man could get lost in for hours. Oh, yes...just his kind of woman.

  He did a quick wander around the bungalow and found it more than adequate for his needs while he waited for a room at the Worchester. There was a bohemian charm to the place even though it wasn’t like one of those eco-friendly hotels he’d seen on Discovery Channel where everything was made from hemp. He made a beeline for the open-air shower and, just as Lilah had promised, it was certainly big enough for two, especially for him and a certain blonde.

  He jumped onto the bed and tested the springs, noting with satisfaction that they were silent as the grave, which would certainly be appreciated when he put those springs to use.

  He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor with a mild groan. The balmy air of St. John felt like a moist blanket wrapped around his lungs and it was taking a bit to get used to. The moment he’d stepped from the plane in St. Thomas he’d been gobsmacked by the humidity. As a native New Yorker, he knew a bit about humid weather but this was taking things to a new level. A clap of thunder surprised him and he popped to his feet to peer out the wide window. Dark clouds boiled on the horizon, looking ominous and foreboding. Damn, that storm rolled in quick. A flash in the sky followed the noise and he frowned. So much for going to the beach to cool off. He’d done a little checking before arriving and it was supposed to be the drier season, but apparently he’d brought the rain.

  He fished his phone from his shorts pocket and dialed his best friend, Keenan Lincoln. It was about three in the afternoon in New York, which meant Keenan was probably still lounging in his pajamas, nursing a nasty hangover.

  “Hey, man, how’s paradise?” Keenan asked in a sleepy tone when he picked up. Justin could almost picture Keenan kicked back in his favorite chair, trying to shake off the previous night’s drinking binge, as he slowly returned to the land of the living.

  “Hot and humid,” Justin answered, frowning as rain started to hit the flagstones. “And wet.”

  “Wet? Isn’t it supposed to be the dry season?”

  “I’m not sure there is a dry season in the tropics. But yeah, it’s supposed to be less rainy. I guess.” Since he didn’t call to chat about the weather, Justin got to the point. “I want you to come down here and help me tear up this quaint little place. We’ll put a New York stamp on every hot chick from here to St. Croix. What do you say?”

  “Sounds fun,” Keenan said, though there was a definite catch to his tone that puzzled Justin. If anyone was down for some wild debauchery it was Keenan Lincoln. The man had partying down to an art form. “Listen, man, I gotta be honest with you... Your old man doesn’t want me following you to St. John.”

  “Excuse me?” Justin said.

  Keenan sounded uncomfortable as he said, “He said something about you needing some alone time to think things through and I don’t know what that means but he was real serious about you not having your friends with you. He was pretty clear on that score.” Keenan paused, then said, “Your old man was real mad about that tabloid story, huh?”

  “You could say that,” Justin grumbled. “What did he say to you?”

  “He... Well, you know your dad... He’s got some serious connections and I sure as hell don’t want to end up in his crosshairs. My old man would shit a brick if he found out I’d done something to piss off Senator Cales. That’s just plain stupid, you know?”

  Yeah, he knew, Justin thought bitterly. In other words, his father had strong-armed his friends into staying away. That son of a bitch.

  “Screw him,” he said recklessly, anger clouding his thinking. “What’s he going to do? Ruin your career? You don’t have one. You’re just like me, highly educated for zero purpose and you like it that way. Who cares what some self-important politician told you to do or not do.”

  “Yeah, easy for you to say. And eventually, I’m going to have to get a job. My old man is getting tired of my antics and he’s making some serious rumblings about me growing up and taking care of my affairs. And frankly, if that’s the case, I don’t want to shoot myself in the foot over this. It’s not worth it, man.”

  What was the world coming to when Keenan passed up the opportunity to thumb his nose at an authority figure? Hell, that had to be a sign of the Apocalypse.

  Keenan tried to smooth Justin’s ruffled feathers. “Hey, so you’re being forced to party alone. That never stopped Justin Cales, right? You can find a good time at a funeral, my brother,” he joked, but Justin wasn’t in the mood to laugh. He was too pissed. He’d figured if he was going to vacation, he wanted his usual crew to vacation with him. He’d been looking forward to tearing it up Caribbean-style with some New York flair. But no...his father had known that’d be exactly what he’d do and had taken steps to suck the fun out of his plan.

  He had half a mind to call up the obnoxious prick and tell him to stick his vacation up his tight ass but self-preservation won out.

  “I’m sorry, man,” Keenan said, sounding as if he felt wretched about bailing on h
im like a puss. “I hope you understand.”

  “Yeah, no worries,” Justin said, but there was a definite edge to his tone that he couldn’t hide. “Take it easy, man.”

  “C’mon, don’t be like that,” Keenan said. “I feel bad enough as it is that we got snapped by the paparazzi. Maybe if that damn picture hadn’t run, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

  “Maybe,” Justin agreed, but in his heart he knew it was bullshit. His dad had been quietly fuming about his lifestyle for months. The tabloid picture had simply been an accelerant for his father’s plans. Anger percolated deep inside at being forced to dance to Senator Cales’s tune. “I’ll send you some Caribbean rum, so you know what you’re missing.”

  “Sounds good,” Keenan said, but Justin could tell Keenan still felt like a rat for leaving him high and dry. Selfishly, Justin was glad. Whatever happened to fraternity brother loyalty? Apparently, it had its limits.

  “Hey...try to have fun. I mean, how bad can it be? You’re on a tropical island, right?”

  “Yeah,” Justin said. “It’ll be fine. It’s just nice to have a wingman, you know?”

  “You, my brother, have never needed a wingman. Go tear it up. I expect to hear wild tales of total debauchery when you return. Do something that’ll really piss off your dad. Kinda like one last hurrah!”

  Justin smiled, warming to that idea. “That’s a thought with merit.”

  “All right.” Keenan yawned. “I’m about two cups short of my usual coffee infusion... Catch you later, Cales.”

  “Later, Lincoln,” Justin said, and clicked off. He tossed his phone to the bed and stripped. If he wasn’t heading to the beach just yet, he could at least rinse off the travel grime. He stepped into the open-air shower and started the water. Before he could step into the spray, the heavens opened up and the rain poured down.