Free No Take Backs by Kelli Maine

C hapter One
    The sun beats down on us. It’s hot. Sauna
hot. The kind that makes the air heavy and saturates your skin with
a sheen of moisture.
    I let my eyes roam over your tan, sculpted
chest down to where your fingers thread together resting on your
abs.
    “Like what you see?” you ask. Smiling, you
reach out and trace your finger along my cheek. I wish I could see
your eyes behind your black sunglasses.
    “You know I do.”
    You chuckle and link your hands again,
relaxing on your lounge chair.
    The pool water ripples in the breeze,
sunlight glinting off its surface. Pinkish-purple bougainvillea
twines up to the palm frond roof of the pool-side bar. How did we
get here? Us together? There were so many obstacles between us.
    Over the past few months, Turtle Tear has
been transformed from ancient ruins to a luxury resort on a private
island in the Everglades. In the distance, the work crew bangs and
saws, finishing the last few rooms in the hotel.
    “Let’s cancel tomorrow,” you say. “I don’t
want to share you.”
    “We’ve waited too long for this.” Even
though it’s only been about six months for me, you’ve waited years
for this day to come. Tomorrow is the grand opening of Turtle Tear
Resort to our friends and family. After that…well, I haven’t
decided if I want to open it to the public, or keep it private. I
guess I’m not ready to share this place or you with anyone else
either. “After they’re all gone, you can become a hermit.”
    You take my hand and kiss it. “At least you
promised me we could stay in the tree house
    and not crowd in the hotel with everyone
else.”
    I roll to my side and run a finger down your
arm. “I love our little hideaway.”
    Footsteps sound from the covered walkway. I
sit up and turn to see Riley, your new assistant, step out from the
shade and into the pool courtyard. “Why are you wearing dress pants
and a tie?” I ask him. “Are you insane? It’s sweltering out
here.”
    You sit up, and your knees bump against
mine. “Riley likes to look professional.” You grasp the left side
of my red bikini top and tug it closed. “And you’re a little too
casual. More like falling out.”
    “No interest in sharing me with this
assistant then?” I whisper.
    You clench your jaw, but don’t reply. I was
teasing, but struck a nerve bringing up the reason I left you last
time.
    “Ms. DeSalvo,” Riley interjects, spots of
pink on his cheeks from either the heat or from overhearing my
comment, “your mother and aunt are scheduled to arrive at ten a.m..
tomorrow morning. Do you have a preference of which rooms are
reserved for them?”
    I shade my eyes and glance up at him,
wishing I hadn’t forgotten my sunglasses back in the hotel. “No.
I’m sure you’ll pick very nice rooms for them. I trust your
judgment. But can you do me a favor?”
    He nods, eager to please. “Of course.”
    “Call me Rachael.”
    A sheepish grin spreads across his face.
He’s young, twenty-two at most, not that I’m much older. But his
reserved manner and uncontrollable blushing make him seem a lot
younger. “Can I get you another drink from the bar, Rachael?”
    I pick up my empty mimosa glass from the
small table beside my chair and hold it out to him. “That would be
amazing of you. Thanks.”
    “Mr. Rocha?” he asks, taking my glass.
    You pick up your half-full bottle of water
and shake it in Riley’s direction. “I’m good, thanks. But that
reminds me, when’s the domestic staff getting in?”
    “Three this afternoon.”
    Riley trots off toward the bar on the
opposite side of the pool and courtyard. “Someone has a crush,” you
say, squeezing my knees between yours.
    The stubble on your face has grown to a soft
beard that covers your chin, not quite as full as it was when we
first met, but soft to the touch and sexy. I can’t resist running
my fingers over it. “You’re right,” I say. “But look at him. Those
pressed oxford shirts he wears, the flop of dusty