Something to Believe In Page 5

  Lilah suppressed a shudder. She hated the feeling that her time with Pops was coming to an end. Even though it’d been ten years, she still hadn’t come to grips with the loss of her Grams.

  “Celly, we have to find a way to save Larimar,” Lilah said quietly. “It’s the glue that holds this family together. What will happen if we lose Pops and Larimar? It’s too awful to even contemplate.”

  Celly patted Lilah’s hand with her careworn and roughened one and said, “Yah be surprised what one family can handle when they made to. Yah worry too much. Everything will happen as it should.” A smile creased her mouth as her gaze canted sidewise. “Don’t look now but there’s a beautiful mon walking dis way. Yah call dibs?” Lilah gasped at the island woman’s bold suggestion and swatted at her. “What? A woman has needs, yah know.”

  Lilah swallowed her laughter when she realized it was Justin walking their way. He walked into a room like a playboy just looking for a good time, but there was something that pulsed just beneath the surface of that easygoing exterior that spoke of deep strength. Since going through everything, Lilah had gained something of a sixth sense about people. Celly insisted that it was because she’d straddled both worlds with one foot on the earth and the other in the heavens until modern science had yanked her back to her body. Of course, when Lora had heard that theory, she’d snorted in derision and muttered under her breath something unflattering about “that superstitious Crucian woman” and had rolled her eyes so hard, she nearly tipped over. Lilah didn’t know what to believe. She just seemed sensitive to people now. And there was something about Justin that drew her—which was exactly why she needed to avoid him.

  “Are all the island women as beautiful as you?” he asked, staring at Lilah, then deliberately switching his gaze to Celly as if the question had been directed at her all along. Lilah blushed and looked away. He extended a hand to Celly. “Justin Cales. Larimar guest. And you are...?”

  “Yah be smooth as the underside of a conch shell yah be and just as pretty.” She chuckled. “What can we do yah for?”

  “Actually, I was hoping maybe you could help me to convince Miss Lilah, here, to show me the sights around your lovely island. Obviously, I’m not from around here. I stick out like a sore thumb. The locals will see me coming a mile away and I’m sure I’ll pay way too much for even a taxi. Can you help a poor guy out? I promise I’m not a pervert or ax murderer...just a mildly adorable tourist who has a soft spot for pretty tour guides.”

  Lilah smothered the grin that found her lips anyway. He made her insides feel like warm chocolate melting in the humid heat. Damn, he was charming. And those eyes ought to be illegal.

  “Sorry, I have to work,” Lilah declined sweetly.

  “Foolish girl,” Celly said, shooing her away from behind the counter. “When a good-looking man come knockin’ yah don’t show him de door until yah’ve had some fun. Now go, chile. Nothing here I can’t handle for de day.”

  “But Lora—”

  “Bah, Lora is in love wit de sound of her own voice. Things get done, that’s all dat matters. Show this young mon the island the real way.”

  Justin grinned, placing his hand over his heart in a show of utter gratitude. “Bless you for helping a poor guy out. Karma will surely smile on you.”

  “Go on wit your pretty mouth,” Celly said, waving him away, but a smile flirted with her mouth. She waved a finger at him though, saying, “Don’ mess wit my favorite Bell or I send a jumbie after yah.”

  Lilah laughed at Justin’s quizzical frown. “A ghost,” she explained, moving from behind the counter against her better judgment. “But don’t worry, as far as I know jumbies are out of season right now.” She cast Celly a playfully exasperated look and then followed Justin outside. “What are you doing? I told you I wasn’t interested in anything serious.”

  “Who said anything about serious? I just need a tour guide I can trust,” Justin said innocently. “I mean, just because we knocked boots doesn’t make us married, right?”

  Her cheeks heated just a little and she lifted her chin with a small laugh. “Right. Okay. I guess I got the wrong impression last night. I thought you were interested in something more...”

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We had a great time. Where’s the harm in spending a few more hours together?”

  She weighed his logic and when she couldn’t find an obvious flaw she grudgingly agreed. What was a day or two? It wasn’t as if they were going to fall helplessly in love in the space of a few hours. She smiled. “All right. You got yourself a tour guide. But the minute I feel things are getting...attached between us...”

  “Sounds perfect to me. If you knew me better, you’d know I’m the last person who’s looking for deep and meaningful. I promise.”

  “That’s a dubious way of reassuring me.”

  “But does it work?”

  “Knowing that you have commitment issues and are likely a major player?” She took a moment to consider, then answered, “Yes, actually it does.”

  “Great.” He grinned. “Now that we have that out of the way...refresh my memory on the sex part? Is that part of the tour guide special?”

  She gasped and climbed into the Jeep but a secret smile lit up her insides. “Get in or you’re going to end up walking into town.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Justin said, chuckling as he climbed into the Jeep beside her. Then he cast her a glance as he said, “So...just to be clear, would it be terribly inappropriate if I told you how sexy you look this morning?”

  “Yes.” But she loved it. “Try to keep that kind of talk to a minimum.”

  “Where’s the fun in that?” She leveled a serious look his way and he lifted his hands in mock surrender. “Can’t blame a guy for trying. But I should warn you—”

  “Warn me about what?”

  He leaned forward and she saw it coming but couldn’t seem to pull away because as much as she was putting up fences, she was secretly delighted when he pushed them down. “I’m terrible at following rules that don’t suit me,” he murmured right before brushing his lips against hers.

  Oh. Damn.

  * * *

  JUSTIN KNEW HE SHOULDN’T but he really, honestly couldn’t help himself. It sounded corny—and if any of his friends could see him right now, they’d laugh their asses off—but Lilah was a drug he wasn’t quite ready to quit. Maybe it was because she sweetly but plainly told him that she wasn’t interested in anything serious, which was a 180 from the women that usually pursued him. In his current circles, it was as if he had Most Eligible Bachelor stamped on his forehead in neon letters, because they simply flocked to him, draping themselves over him and availing him to their generous assets without reservation. But he could spot a socialite on the marriage prowl within seconds of meeting a woman. His buddies called it a gift, a calling to help prevent untimely snaring, so he definitely knew Lilah wasn’t simply being coy.

  But he didn’t care. She was unlike any woman he’d ever met and he wanted more—any way he could get it.

  He pulled away and her eyelids remained fluttered shut; her dark brown lashes rested on her cheeks as a tiny smile flirted with her mouth. “You are impossible,” she said, slowly opening her eyes.

  “I like to think of myself as an opportunist,” he clarified.

  “And you felt I’d left you a wide-open opportunity to kiss me?” she asked.

  “Can I help it that you are just irresistible? Really, I think that’s more on you,
than me. I’m defenseless against your beauty and charm.”

  * * *

  LILAH ROLLED HER EYES and gave him a gentle shove as she started the Jeep. “Don’t push your luck. Now, do you want to see St. John or not?”

  He grinned, not the least bit sorry for stealing that kiss. As long as it’s with you, darling...I’d visit the moon. And in fact, he was going to steal as many kisses as she’d let him. “I’m all yours, sweetheart,” he said, sliding his sunglasses into place.

  Lilah chuckled and put the Jeep into Reverse, muttering with a headshake, “Tourists.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  LORA CAUGHT A GLIMPSE of Lilah leaving in the Jeep with someone she didn’t recognize and she immediately went to find answers. She withheld an audible sigh when she saw the only person who might have those answers was Celly.

  “Where is Lilah going?” Lora asked, getting straight to the point.

  Celly shrugged. “I’m not her keeper. She no baby.”

  “I know that but why are you working her shift? Is she coming back in a few minutes or something?”

  Celly sighed and cast Lora a short look. “Yah treat her like a chile when she a woman grown. Mind yah business, leave her be.”

  Lora held her temper in check by the thinnest of margins. Why did this woman insist on pushing her buttons? Didn’t she realize that Lora was her boss? “One, she’s my sister, and two, she’s supposed to be working, and three, she’s been through a rough ordeal. I don’t think she needs to invite complications by starting a relationship.”

  “Who say she startin’ anything?” Celly waved Lora’s concerns away with an irritated flick of her wrist. “I say I will take her shift. She’s young. She doesn’t need to be cooped up like a bird in a cage. She needs to stretch her wings if she going to fly.”

  Lora narrowed her gaze at Celly. “Need I remind you that Lilah nearly drowned a few months ago? We all thought it best to give her some space but look how that turned out.” Celly looked away, finished with the conversation but Lora wasn’t. The steam building under her collar was beginning to redden her ears. “Celly, I know you feel a certain amount of protection because my grandfather has a soft spot for you but you are not irreplaceable. You need to show me a bit more respect.”

  “And why is dat? Yah threaten to fire me the minute yah walk on de sand and yah expect me to grovel at yah feet wit gratitude? Yah crazy, girl. Yah earn respect not demand it.”

  Lora felt distinctly chastised, which only served to anger her more. She sputtered, all manner of hotheaded, ill-conceived words threatening to fall from her mouth, but Pops wandered in and Lora was forced to stuff them down with a dark glower promising a return to the topic later. “Pops, what’s wrong?” she asked, when his typical easygoing smile was replaced with a confused frown.

  “I can’t find your Grams... She’s not anywhere. I—I don’t remember when I saw her last. Do you?” He turned frightened, somewhat glazed eyes to Lora and she smothered a flutter of panic. She wasn’t very good at pretending, even for Pops. It wasn’t natural for her to lie, even if the lie was for the greater good. She glanced around, looking anxiously for Heath. He was so much better at this than her. But Heath was nowhere to be seen. Pops’s lip quivered and he scratched at his head, his voice wobbling with uncertainty. “I got bad things in my head, sugar bird. Was she sick? No, that can’t be right. Is she at the doctor, maybe?”

  Celly moved in, smooth as whipped cream, and gently led Pops out of the foyer, saying, “Mr. Jack, she went to town on an errand, said she’d be back latah. But she told me to make some fresh banana bread for yah and I think it’s just about ready to eat. Let’s go take a look.”

  Pops relaxed and wiped a dot of sweat from his brow. “That Lana...always shopping. She’s going to bleed me dry one of these days but she knows my weaknesses, that’s for sure. Banana bread, you say?”

  “Fresh from de oven,” Celly said with a proud nod. “With just a touch of coconut to make it island bread.”

  Lora watched as Celly expertly maneuvered Pops out of the foyer and into the private residence of the resort. The tightness in her chest loosened but it was replaced with a different sort of frustration. As much as she and Celly seemed to butt heads at every turn, the Crucian woman was adept at handling Pops. Of course, now there was no one to man the front desk. Sighing, she slipped behind the counter and resigned herself to a little reception work but was soon distracted by the total chaos on the desk. There were paper clips mixed with loose staples and sticky notes all over the place with various reminders and important dates, which she noted with irritation, should’ve been transferred to the calendar so everyone could, at a glance, know what was needed or happening. Damn it, people. They needed to adhere to some kind of organizational structure if they were going to save Larimar. Everyone running around doing their own thing with their own little quirks and touches was part of the problem.

  She was knee-deep in organizing the chaos when Heath entered the lobby. Even as irritated as she was, the sight of Heath momentarily took her breath away. He was the most handsome man she’d ever known. And she wasn’t just saying that because she slept next to him every night. He still walked with a mild limp from his fall off the roof but she hardly noticed anything but his dazzling smile because when he looked at her, the world disappeared.

  Briefly.

  “Celly is going to kill you for messing with her system,” Heath joked, reminding Lora of the ugly business earlier.

  She stiffened and returned to her task. “Well, Celly needs a new system. One that isn’t grounded in chaos theory. This is a mess.”

  “Well, I’m just saying, she has a system and it seems to work fairly well and since she works the front desk the majority of the time, I’d leave her to it. I know I’d have a fit if someone came into my shop and started rearranging my tools.”

  Lora paused, struck by the uncomfortable reasoning. Heath was right. But Lora struggled with admitting that simple fact, not because of Heath but because of Celly. She glowered at Heath for making his point. “I didn’t mean to start changing everything... It’s just that she had staples mingling with paper clips,” she said as if her reasoning ought to be self-explanatory.

  “A crime, I’m sure,” Heath said, smiling and not the least bit offended by her scowl. “Now stop rearranging someone else’s workstation before they cut you off from the boiled bananas.”

  Celly made boiled bananas better than The Wild Donkey, which was saying something considering the ramshackle eatery had been serving the local fare since the 1930s.

  And it just happened to be Lora’s favorite.

  She groaned. “Why does she hate me?” she asked, trying to return the desk to the way it was but in the end she gave up and resigned herself to another tongue-lashing, or worse, sullen silence.

  “She doesn’t hate you,” Heath assured Lora. “But you do have a way of talking down to her that probably doesn’t help your case.”

  “I do not,” Lora retorted indignantly. “I state my mind and I don’t mince words, that’s all. I’d think she’d respect that seeing as she’s the same damn way.”

  Heath’s look said he didn’t buy it. “Lora, you got off on the wrong foot is all but that can be fixed. She’s a great woman if you give yourself a chance to know her. Grams would’ve loved her. In a way—”

  “Don’t say it,” Lora warned with a growl. There is no way that hard-bitten woman with the bad attitude was anything like her Grams. Not in a
million years. Not even if Grams had been a long-haul trucker who chewed cigars and spit chewing tobacco. She shuddered at the thought. “Grams was sweet and loving and just a bit quirky—” and she loved me “—whereas Celly—”

  “Celly what?” The strident query followed as Celly returned to the front desk. Lora didn’t have the chance to answer for Celly’s gaze lit on the desk and her frown darkened to a deep, angry scowl. “What is this? My desk has been ruined.” Her accusatory gaze swung to Lora with knowing ire. “Yah did this?”

  Lora lifted her chin. “I did.”

  Heath sensed the tension ballooning in the air and tried to intervene with his signature good humor but Celly silenced him with a wave as she addressed Lora. “Yah made dis mess...yah clean it. Yah seem to know what’s best for everybody even if yah don’t know what’s best for yahself,” she said darkly. “Until yah keep your nose out of what’s working...I’m going home.”

  “What?” Lora said, dumbfounded. “What do you mean you’re going home? Who will man the front desk?”

  Celly grabbed her purse and slung it over her shoulder. “That’s yah problem. Not mine.”

  “Now, wait a minute,” Lora protested, following Celly and imploring with Heath to help her. “You can’t just leave in the middle of the day like that. You told Lilah you would cover her shift...”

  Celly stopped and skewed her gaze at Lora. “I did. But yah out of control. Learn some manners and I return.”

  Manners? Lora stared after the woman as she walked out the door. “What just happened?” she asked Heath. “Did she just quit?” Then hearing the plaintive tone in her voice, she straightened and said, “Well, then fine. She can be replaced. This is good, actually. I’ll just go through the applications and find someone more suitable for our needs.”