Paradise (3 page)

Hmm, if she could have either one, which one would she choose? Good Ol’ Boy with those tanned muscles and sexy ponytail? Undoubtedly, there was a luscious six pack under that shirt. And oh, those crystal blue eyes. She could look at them forever.

Or George of the Jungle? Her insides heated as she recalled how he leaned in, towering over her. For an instant, his hard body pressed against her back. It felt warm and inviting and very right. Even now, her pulse quickened at the thought of his chest brushing her breasts. Had he even noticed he’d touched her when he reached for his coffee?

Her nipples tightened with the memory of his lips soft against her ear. Did he do it so she could hear over the noise, or so he could get close to her? One thing for sure, she wouldn’t mind seeing this George of the Jungle in his loincloth.

Not likely with the way that waitress zeroed in on him. Obviously, they had a thing going. Why was she so down on the woman? She knew the answer before she asked the question. Because that waitress reminded her of the past -- a past she’d rather forget.

A long sigh escaped her lips and she couldn’t stop a smile. George of the Jungle and Good Ol’ Boy. Lord, if she’d known the men up here looked like that, she’d have visited the swamp long ago. She shrugged and climbed into her car. What did it matter, she didn’t plan on making Maisie’s a regular stop so it wasn’t likely she’d see them again.

By the time she pulled out of the parking lot, she had only a few minutes to find McGraw Tours. She whipped out her directions, gulped her coffee and slowly wound through side streets, searching for the address. What should she look for? Jed Clampett and Jethro in rocking chairs on the front porch of a shack? That’s what fish and game camps looked like when she was growing up.

Surprised, she found a stately three story, red brick building with graceful columns set off by white shutters and trim. Wide brick steps led to a spacious front porch dotted with rocking chairs and oversized, stone flower boxes of scarlet geraniums.
Looks like Granny and Ellie Mae did a fine job keeping up the place.

She followed the signs down a narrow drive that led around the building to a sizable lot. A back door opened to a screened porch. It was perfect for an old fashioned swing and sipping lemonade on a sultry summer evening. Hmm, did the McGraws spend their evenings there?

A line of crape myrtle separated the house from the parking lot where SUVs, Hummers and Jeeps were angled neatly between white lines. Her ‘67 Camaro was conspicuously out of place here in
Frontier
Land
. At the far end of the lot, six shiny black Land Rovers stood like silent soldiers, their trailers carrying one, two or even four canoes.

After unloading her rolling suitcase, she wandered back to the front. Several Crocodile Hunters emerged from the building, each with a group of campers in tow.

As the crowd passed, one of the Crocodile Hunters waved and called out. “You go right on into the office, Ma’am, and make yourself at home. Nick’ll be there in a New York minute to help you.” His flowing Southern accent brought a smile to her face, and she nodded her understanding.

At the front door, she recognized Nick McGraw hustling toward her from down the street. He wore that same safari outfit but search as she might, she couldn’t spot his pith helmet. He had added one new accessory to his wardrobe, a feisty toddler, trying his darnedest to escape from Nick’s arms. A large wet spot of drool darkened the shoulder of his shirt.

She waved and waited for him to join her. Lord, he was built -- just like the rest of them up here -- and seemed to be such a nice man. It was true, all the good ones were taken, especially when they had a kid in tow.

“Robbie. Good to see you again. Welcome to the Outdoorsman’s
Paradise
.” He pumped her hand, clutching the little boy under his arm. “This is Drew, my youngest.”

“Hi, there. Boy, he’s a cute fella.”
If you like dribble faces and more arms and legs than a squid.
The baby reached out a gooey hand, and she jumped back. “What a busy guy.”

“That’s for sure. Are you all set for an adventurous week in the Okefenokee?” His voice was smooth and warm, but unmistakably all business. He opened the door and allowed her to precede him into the building. A distant roll of thunder caught their attention, and they paused on the threshold, listening. “Don’t worry about the weather. It’s supposed to clear up later this morning.”

He led her into a spacious entry hall with shining hardwood floors and deep blue walls accented by oak wainscoting. The unmistakable scent of lemon oil hung in the air. A stately wooden staircase on the right led to a closed oak door on the second floor. The plush navy carpeting on the stairs highlighted the rich golden tones of the banister and ornate spindles.
Crocodile Hunters hung out here?

“The office is right over there.” He indicated double French doors down a long hallway opposite the staircase.

“Is your boyfriend meeting you or is he parking the car?” he asked over his shoulder. A small bell tinkled merrily when he ushered her through the door of the deserted office.

“Unfortunately, he won’t be able to make it. He, um, was called away on business, unexpectedly.” No way could she mention the real reason for Rick’s absence. “It looks like it will be just you, Fran and me. I hope that won’t be a problem,” she added, following him into a fairly large but orderly office.
But if Goo-Face is onboard, count me out. I don’t do babies.

The light blue walls were decorated with what looked to be original oil paintings and watercolors of different settings in the swamp. A light oak counter separated a spacious waiting area from the office area. In here, the lemon oil scent mingled with a hint of pine forest lending an outdoorsy atmosphere.

She followed him through an opening in the counter to the office area. An executive desk equipped with a state of the art computer faced the counter. Other desks were situated against the back wall with a playpen tucked neatly between them. Two large paneled doors occupied the side wall.
Hmm, nothing shabby about this operation.

Catching her keen appraisal of the room, Nick smiled warmly. “Fran was a decorator before we took over this business. According to her, just because we work in a swamp doesn’t mean we have to live in one.”

The hint of a frown crossed Nick’s face, but was gone almost before it registered. He headed straight for the playpen and deposited dribble boy who plopped down and began to gnaw on a large rubber alligator. Nick watched the boy for a moment, a small smile crossing his lips, before returning his attention to Robbie.

Guilt nibbled at her insides, and she grinned brightly as if this was her dream trip of a lifetime. After all, Nick and Fran had donated an expensive vacation package. It wasn’t their fault the winner hated anything that wasn’t air conditioned, especially the outdoors.

“Have a seat,” he suggested, indicating a straight back chair situated next to the oak desk. “We’ve had a slight change of plans also.” He perched one hip on the edge of the desk and folded his arms across his chest. “I’ll get right to the point. Fran slipped and fell last night. She broke her leg.”

“Oh no. Is she all right?”

“She’ll be fine. As soon as she can put some weight on it they’ll give her a walking cast. But for the next week or so she’ll be on crutches, so no tours for her. The problem is, aside from Drew, we’ve got a three, and a six year old and, of course, the twins are five. The older ones are out of school this week. Spring Break. To top it off, our housekeeper quit. Something about living in a zoo.” He gave her a “go figure” face.

“Anyway, Fran won’t be able to deal with them alone. She’s incredibly disappointed, too. A week of peace in the swamp without the tribe would have been a real treat.”

Robbie schooled her face into a blank expression. They had
five
kids under the age of seven? Gosh, Nick’s boys must be great swimmers.

The cloud of doom she’d been under since winning the trip began to slowly drift away. If the McGraws couldn’t go, she was off the hook. No guides, no swamp. Yes! She gave herself a mental high-five.

“However…”

“Oh, I certainly understand,” she interrupted, trying to keep the delight from her voice. “You can’t possible leave her alone with all those kids. My goodness, five.”

“However,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken, “we all still have our commitment to TV Ten for that review they scheduled Thursday week. I called, but they were firm on our being there as planned, sweeps week, you know. More importantly, we especially didn’t want to disappoint you. I hope you don’t mind, but I made arrangements for another one of our guides to take you out.

She kept her face placid while her mind fought the new development. It wasn’t fair. She’d almost gotten out of it.

“He called just before I ran into you. As usual, he’s running late but should be here any minute.” Even as Nick finished speaking, the bell over the door announced a newcomer. As she turned her head, the welcoming smile froze on her face.

“About time you showed up.” Nick smiled. “Come here. I want you to meet our winner, Robbie Miller. Robbie, this is your guide, JT Pearson. Oh, and that reprobate with him is my brother, Eddie McGraw.”

Chapter Two

“Well, hey, Miz Miller. I was wonderin’ if you might be my camper while we was a-waitin’ there in Maisie’s.” JT smiled.

“So nice to put a name with a face.” Eddie winked. “I’m delighted to meet you, Ms. Miller. I’ve heard…nice things about you.”

Eddie’s gaze drifted from her gaping mouth, which reminded him of a sea bass he’d once caught, upward to her shocked -- no, delighted -- emerald eyes. Her graceful hand shot to her throat as an appealing hot pink crept into her cheeks.

“What a pleasant surprise, Mr. Pearson, oh and Mr. McGraw.”

From the moment he’d set foot in the diner, he knew the preppy redhead had to be their winner. Even if Fran hadn’t mentioned her hair color, her clothes were a dead giveaway. She looked more ready for a shopping spree in
Atlanta
than a week communing with nature.

He hadn’t meant to cut in line, but JT had spotted him and waved him over, knowing Nick would be pissed if he was late again. That Eddie was a part owner of McGraw Tours didn’t stop Nick from enforcing all his silly rules.

When he arrived at Maisie’s, he’d watched her tap her foot, check her watch, and heave long sighs. She’d done everything but push folks out of her way. Except when JT Pearson struck up a conversation. Then, she was all smiles and beaming eyes.

Her immediate interest in his friend sent an unexplained jolt of jealousy through him. Eddie wanted to be on the receiving end of those smiles. He wanted her to flirt with him, not JT. Another thought hit him. Her reaction to JT didn’t mean anything. Her boyfriend was here somewhere.

When he cut in front of JT, he hadn’t meant to touch her. In earnest, all he wanted was his coffee and breakfast, but when he miscalculated the space and fell against her, his insides instantly turned to fire. My God, she had a great ass. It was round and firm and molded snug against his thighs. A surge of lust like he hadn’t felt in years shot through his veins, and he’d had to fight the urge to rub against her. She smelled like summer flowers and was just as soft.

Thank God she’d moved away before he’d made a complete fool of himself. Despite his body’s reaction, he couldn’t regret it. Watching her sputter and stammer was worth the price of admission. Too bad Lou Ann had come over.

“Well,” began JT, picking up some papers from the counter, “this here’s gonna be an excitin’ week. Congratulations on winnin’ the drawing, Miz Miller.”

She fidgeted with a large black leather tote bag. “So, you’ve been elected to be my guide, Mr. Pearson. I’m looking forward to an, um, exhilarating time.”

The look Robbie gave JT could have melted butter at the North Pole, and Eddie didn’t like it one bit. He caught himself. Why should he care? Ms. Miller meant nothing to him.

“I’m de-lighted to be of service, Ma’am.” JT bowed gallantly.

“Yes, well, I’m glad y’all are pleased with the arrangement,” said Nick when a small gurgle sounded from the back of the room.