Barefoot in the Sand (21 page)

“More critical,” Fox continued, “you cannot imagine how much Ashley needs to be part of a strong, loving, solid family again.”

Actually, he could. “I’m sure that’s a universal desire,” he said.

“Indeed it is. And you’re getting in the way of it.”

“By helping Lacey build a resort and giving her a way to show Ashley how to go from disaster to a success?” How was that getting in the way?

“So you’ve really bought into Lacey’s fairy tale.”

“Hell yeah, I have. And I’m going to help her realize it.” Wasn’t he? Or was he going to use her to get out of his own professional jam?

“Very noble of you, Clay.”

Okay, maybe not so noble.

“On the other hand,” Fox said, “I’m going to help her make another dream come true and teach Ashley another important lesson. I’m going to be a father to our daughter, a partner to my former lover, and a presence in her life. I can provide her with stability, family, and”—he tilted his head in acknowledgment—“quite a bit of money.”

Holy shit, no wonder the guy reminded him of his old man. He was more like Dad than Dad was. And Clay’d had this conversation once before, and lost.

“And I agree with you.” Fox took a few steps closer, leveling Clay with a cold look. “It
will
be up to Lacey to decide if she wants stability, family, security, and love or”—he gestured toward Clay—“the thrill of the younger man. Which, I don’t deny, is probably making her feel very girlish and giddy. She certainly sounded giddy with you.”

A car engine on the road denied Clay the chance to reply.

“Ah, there’s the person I’m meeting. Do you mind? I need some privacy.”

Yeah, he minded, a lot. Right now he minded everything. Mostly he minded that he hadn’t been completely straight with Lacey, and before they went one step farther
toward the bedroom, he needed to tell her exactly why he was there.

If he lost the job, or a chance with her, or if that sent her into the arms of this guy, then she wasn’t the right partner for Clay. Partner… of any kind.

L
acey had assured Clay that he’d never find the place the locals called the SOB, since South of the Border had no sign, no written menu, no bar, no reservations, and very few tables. So they’d agreed to meet in the parking lot of the Super Min and walk to the restaurant.

Problem was, he couldn’t find a damn parking spot. He finally pulled into the lot of the Fourway Motel across the street and, just as he climbed out of his truck, two familiar faces cruised by in a Mustang convertible that slowed down when the driver recognized him.

The G-girls. From behind the wheel, the frosted blonde, Grace, if he remembered correctly, gave him a long, slow once-over. Gloria was in the passenger seat.

“Gotta admit I didn’t think I’d see you here tonight,” Grace called out, turning down her car radio. “Hate to break the news to you, but this is a private party.”

So what? He couldn’t park in the motel lot? “I’m meeting someone,” he said.

Next to her, the other woman leaned forward, her dark eyes much less predatory than her cousin’s. “Don’t tell me Lacey’s going to be here?”

Okay, he wouldn’t.

“She better not be,” Grace said, all playfulness gone from her voice as she answered before Clay could. “Like I said, private party.”

“I’ll move the truck,” he said, not sure what to make of the woman or what she was implying. “No worries.”

Grace narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m not worried about your truck, honey. Believe me.” With that, she hit the accelerator and drove off, disappearing around the corner.

“What the hell was that all about?” he asked out loud.

“That, my friend, is the Wicked Witch of Mimosa Key riding her red broomstick.”

He turned at the sound of Lacey’s voice, and any comeback caught in his throat as he checked her out. And checked her
out
. Whoa.

She crossed the street, high heels clicking to a rhythm that suddenly matched his heart as he drank in the tight black tank top, short jeans skirt, and some very sexy, strappy sandals with red toes peeking out.

“And you must be the Blistering Hot Witch.” He reached out both hands, drinking in the sight of her. “Dressed to turn heads and break hearts.”

Her reddish blonde curls had been straightened to a sleek and sexy sheen. She wore more makeup than he’d seen her wear before, including something really shiny on her lips that he just wanted to lick.

“This isn’t a business meeting?” There was just enough tease in her voice to make him give in to the urge to put his arms around her and pull her close. When he did, woman’s curves pressed against him top to bottom, and he closed his eyes and inhaled.

“Strawberry.”

“I’m starting to get used to that nickname.”

“I smell it.”

“Not my idea, I have to admit.”

“I like it.” He nuzzled her in and took another whiff, letting his lips brush the ultrasmooth hair. “And this no-curl look is pretty, too.” He inched back, grinning. “Did you get all dolled up for me?”

“I spent the day with my girlfriends at the Ritz and they were all about doing a shopping and beauty day, so I had a little pampering.” She gave him a flirtatious wink. “The strawberry body splash was on the house.”

“Then I love that house.” He took her hand, her fingers silky from all that pampering, and started walking. “It’s a good thing one of us spent the day working since the other was at the spa.”

“I was working,” she insisted, matching his steps. “Resort research. You mentioned that Casa Blanca really could use a good spa. The girls and I were dreaming up ideas. Jocelyn assures me we could make a mint, especially if we go organic. What did you do all day?”

“I did not get a strawberry pampering or”—he leaned down to look at her feet—“a bright red toe job.”

She laughed, a feminine, sexy sound that did stupid things low in his belly. “Then what did you do?”

“Set up a CAD system in my apartment and did the first blueprint for a villa.”

“Oh, really? That’s…” Her voice trailed as her gaze slipped past him to a group of people across the street, and she frowned. “What’s going on tonight?”

“I don’t know, but G and G said it was a private party.”

Her frown deepened as she surveyed the cars in the lot. “Why are all those are town council members going into the back of the Super Min?”

“Big run on milk?”

She shook her head. “I didn’t read about any emergency sessions and, even if there were, they’d be in town hall. What did Grace and Gloria say?”

“Just that whatever it was, it was private. And they seemed surprised you’d be here.”

“Grace Hartgrave is all talk,” she said. “If you came anywhere near her, her husband, Ron, would sit on you and, trust me, you’d be crushed. She’s a lot like her mother, Charity, a major busybody with too many opinions, but Glo, Gloria Vail, her cousin, is pretty cool.”

“She seemed a little more laid-back,” he agreed.

“I always liked Gloria.” Her attention focused in on the group outside the convenience store. “What the heck are they doing?”

“I don’t know, but I’m starving. Let’s—”

“Lacey!” A woman called in a hushed whisper. “Lacey, come here.”

Lacey turned, and they both spied a petite woman ducking behind a van in the Fourway parking lot. “Speaking of Gloria,” she said. “What the…”

The woman looked terrified, gesturing wildly for Lacey to come closer while she looked left and right as if she would be caught any second. Lacey headed toward her and Clay followed, curious and on alert.

“What are you doing, Glo?” Lacey asked.

The other woman reached out and pulled Lacey closer, her big brown eyes wide. “Probably getting myself disowned, that’s what. Listen, Lacey, I have to tell you something.”

“What’s up?”

“You are about to get screwed, that’s what’s up. And my family—my cousin and my aunt, especially—are holding the screwdriver. I hate that they’re doing this to you, and behind your back, like cowards.”

“What are they doing?” Lacey asked.

The woman looked pained, like she’d already said enough. “You just need to…” Gloria blew out a breath, then took another look around. “They’re in the back of the Super Min having a totally off-the-books secret town council meeting. Well, not really a meeting, because then it wouldn’t be off the books.”

“To do what?” Lacey asked.

“To make sure you don’t build a B and B, for one thing. A couple other people are getting stopped from building, too, but your plans are front and center.”

“Why?” Clay asked. “What’s the basis for the opposition?”

“Competition,” she said. “My cousin and her husband, Ron, don’t want any competition for the Fourway, and Aunt Charity wants Mimosa Key to stay firmly in the 1950s where, as you know, it is.”

“Which is just stupid,” Lacey said.

“Well, not to her. My Aunt Charity gets all kinds of tax revenue through all these loopholes. She’s doctored up that bylaw book so bad it’s like a novel she’s written.” The woman practically spat in disgust. “I’m the only one in the
family who doesn’t own a business, since I just work at Beachside Beauty, but I talk to a lot of people and they’re sick of my aunt’s hold on this place. She knows it, she’s scared, and she’s trying to make the town council work for her.”

“What can she make them do?” Lacey asked.

“Tonight, she’s making them read the bylaws and understand how it applies to zoning, then convincing them they need to have an emergency zoning meeting tomorrow that will uphold the five-bedroom maximum. The Fourway Motel, of course, is grandfathered in, and therefore remains the only hotel or motel on the island. There’s a few long-term rentals, but not enough to make a dent in Charity or her kids’ business.”

Lacey looked at Clay, concern in her eyes. “What can we do?”

“Crash the meeting,” he said.

“You have to,” Glo agreed. “You have to get in there and fight my Aunt Charity or she is going to make all kinds of promises to the council that you can’t possibly counter.”

Clay snorted, understanding immediately. “Graft and corruption are the lifeblood of the building industry, I’m sorry to say. She wouldn’t be the first business owner to throw money, booze, or votes at the people who make zoning decisions.”

“So we just walk in and say she can’t?” Lacey shook her head. “You don’t know Charity Grambling.”

“I know this business,” he said. “If we go in there and point out the discrepancies in the bylaw book—”

“How can we do that tonight? We don’t have that book.”

Clay gave her arm a squeeze. “I have a copy in my
truck. I got it out of the Mimosa Key Library right after our first meeting. If the one she has doesn’t match what was on record, that’ll take some of the teeth out of her bite.”

Glo beamed at him. “That’s exactly what you need to do. But Lacey has to do the talking because this is Mimosa Key and strangers count for nothing.”

“I will.” Lacey reached over and gave Glo a quick hug. “Thanks for this.” Then she turned to Clay. “Guess we better get those bylaws and kick some town council ass.”

As they walked away, he put his arm around her shoulder and nestled her closer. “I like your new attitude, Strawberry. Is it the shoes?”

“And the company.”

Lacey didn’t let go of Clay’s hand all the way back to the truck. She had no idea how to kick town council ass, but when he looked at her like that, she was ready to use these heels for more than making him notice her legs.

So what if the good ol’ boys and girls of Mimosa Key were not her favorite people? Not all of the current town council members were in that clique. She and Clay would have to focus on the newer members and hope for the best. Surely she’d baked for some of them over the past few years. Didn’t that count for something?

“All you need to remember, Lacey,” Clay said as they crossed the Fourway Motel parking lot after retrieving his copy of the bylaws, “is that we have one single objective.”

“To build?”

He laughed softly. “We are so far from building it isn’t funny. There are about six thousand pieces of paper we
need first, and the most important one from this group is a zoning permit. But we aren’t ready to get that yet.”