Seduction on the Sand (The Billionaires of Barefoot Bay #2) (13 page)

But these weren’t men who responded well to letting emotions get in the way of profit. Especially Nate. There had to be another way, an easy solution. Elliott always found the easy way...no matter how hard it was to spot.

He blew out a slow breath and turned to look at the beach and horizon on his right. “When you did the first site reviews, Zeke, did you talk to the owner of the land exactly to the east of the top end of her farm?”

Zeke shook his head. “It’s scrub, utterly useless land.”

“But who owns it?”

“I never bothered to look it up because the land didn’t pass the most fundamental feasibility study. You’re in the real estate business. You know useless land when you see it. You’re the expert.”

Someone had once told him a particular piece of land in Massachusetts was worthless because it was too hard to dig a foundation, and so far, that land had made him a very rich man. Feasibility studies could be proved wrong.

“I want to talk to the owner,” he said.

“Don’t bother,” Zeke said. “The cost to clear that kind of land and make it usable for our needs would be astronomical.”

Good. If a problem could be solved with money, it wasn’t a problem. “But if we used that plot, she could keep her farm.”

“No, she couldn’t.” Nate was pissed enough to take his glasses off to make the point. “I was just in Miami with Flynn and saw a preliminary site drawing of the whole stadium complex. There is no physical way to follow any configuration that Flynn has had drawn up without putting parking somewhere on her land. And that’s where it’s going unless you’re too whipped by a goat leash to put it there.”

“Look, couldn’t the parking somehow include her goat farm?” He’d been thinking about this, but hadn’t yet put it into words. “It could attract tourists.”

Nate hooted softly. “Yeah, ’cause people
always
want to stop at a goat farm when they go to a baseball game. Geez, Becker, I know we give you shit about being a moron, but in this case, it might be true.”

“But I—”

“He likes her,” Zeke said, all the amusement gone from his eyes now, replaced by understanding and rationality. Thank God. “And he’s trying to make her happy and give her what she wants.”
 

Nate must have agreed, because he fell back in his chair and threw his hands up in resignation. “Well, there you go. Another one bites the dust.”

“What dust?” Except Elliott knew exactly what dust he meant.
 

“Might as well start recruiting new team members for the Niners right now. Oh, hell, why don’t we just change the name of the team to the Bucks? In honor of our goat-lover and former third baseman.”

Elliott knew what Nate’s comment meant. No one played on their softball team at home who wasn’t rich and single. A walk down the aisle meant a walk off the team.

He shook his head. “I just met her,” he said, and even that level of denial felt wrong. “I mean, she’s special, but...”
 

“Trust me,” Zeke said. “When it happens, it happens fast.”

“Are you and Mandy, uh...” Elliott tapped his left ring finger, unable to even say the word.

Zeke finally smiled. “Shopping for the rock this afternoon, buddy.”

Nate let his forehead thud onto upturned palms. “What the hell is
wrong
with you two?”

“What’s wrong with finding someone to spend your life with?” Zeke demanded.

“What’s
right
with it?” Nate fired back, then he turned his disgust on Elliott. “She’s a
goatherd
, for God’s sake.”

“Hey, Mandy was a maid,” Zeke said, clearly coming over to Elliott’s side in the conversation. “Look, why don’t we look into other options before the deal that Becker set up goes through? Maybe we can do something with that other land.”

He could tell Nate wanted to explode as he shook his head and no words came out. “Wait, wait,” he sputtered. “Did you tell him about Will Palmer?”
 

“Who’s that?” Elliott asked.

“He’s a local,” Zeke answered. “He’s really involved with this resort, and his wife runs the spa. They’re friends of Mandy’s.”

“What about him?” Elliott asked.

“Will Palmer.” Nate dragged out the name like Elliott was an idiot for not recognizing it. “Former minor-league player, well connected, coaches, recruits, and absolutely loves the idea of baseball on Mimosa Key. He’s already got some major names lined up to come to the announcement when we go public. He’s going to bring in players from Miami and Tampa for an exhibition game right here at this resort, against the Niners, maybe in the next few weeks.”

The announcement? An exhibition game with pros? In the
next few weeks
?
 

He could practically feel Frankie slipping through his fingertips.

“Whoa, whoa.” He made a slow-down gesture with both hands. “Nate, we don’t have that land deal yet. We can’t
announce
anything.”

Nate thunked his elbows on the table and stared at Elliott. “You want me in on the announcement?”

“Of course.” They all knew that Nate added the glitz factor and that his family’s name meant huge coverage for them.
 

“Well, my time is limited.”

Elliott almost choked. His time? Time was all this trust-fund billionaire bad boy had. “Might have to reschedule a trip on your party barge to Greece this spring?” Elliott shot back.
 

Nate’s jaw tensed as he gritted his teeth. “You’re a riot, Elliott. We sent you down here to do a job. Do it or we can find someone else to take your place.”

For a long, crazy minute, he thought about the offer. Really thought about Frankie and her farm and the goats and—

Zeke reached in to referee the argument. “We don’t want to do this without Becker,” he said to Nate. Then he turned to Elliott. “But I also don’t want you to hurt someone you care about.”

Elliott looked from one to the other. “She doesn’t want to sell,” he finally said. “The land has sentimental value to her.”

“Sentimental value?” Nate’s voice rose in shock. “Surely you offered enough money to crush any sentiment.”

“It’s
family
land, Nate. You understand family.”

“I understand that I’d like to shoot mine.” He curled his lip. “Did I say that?”

“Yeah.” Elliott tilted his head toward the next table and lowered his voice. “And you better shut up or that’ll be online in about three minutes.”

“Listen to me.” Nate pointed at Zeke, his voice low and soft. “You’re thinking with your heart. And you”—he shifted the finger to Elliott—“are thinking with your dick. I guess that leaves me to use a brain.”

“I am not,” Elliott denied. If he had been thinking with his dick, he’d have had her in bed already instead of waiting to clean up this mess that he made first.

“Your tongue
is
hanging out to the floor,” Zeke agreed.
 

Nate just shook his head, disgusted, as an older woman slowly approached their table, tentatively holding out a pen and paper. “Excuse me, but are you Nathaniel Ivory?”

He pushed his sunglasses back on, as if that could hide the truth.

“Could you...” She offered the pen to him.

Nate scratched his signature, but gruffly refused a picture. When she walked away, he threw back the rest of his champagne and pushed up. “Now it’ll be all over Twitter that I’m an asshole who won’t let my picture be taken. I’m out of here. If you need me, I’ll be on my forty-million-dollar yacht. Or, as some call it”—he gave a lazy grin, softening his famous Ivory family jawline—“the party barge.”

He walked away, sunglasses in place, body language set to
bother me and you die
.

“What’s the bug up his ass?” Elliott asked Zeke when they were alone.

Zeke shrugged. “He’s been acting strange. Lying even lower than usual. Maybe another Ivory family scandal on the horizon?”

“What day
isn’t
there an Ivory family scandal on the horizon?”
 

Zeke looked around, frowning as he zeroed in on someone on the other side of the restaurant. “Hey, isn’t that your goat girl?”

Elliott turned to see two women chatting under an awning, his gaze drawn to the familiar one. The beautiful one. The one he wanted more than his next freaking breath.
 
How had that even happened to him? “She said she had a meeting here with—”

“Jocelyn Palmer,” Zeke supplied.

“How’d you know that?”

“She’s the one we were just talking about. Will Palmer’s wife.” Zeke frowned and gave Elliott’s arm a warning tap. “Will knows about the baseball stadium, so it’s a safe bet his wife does, too. And Will knew where we were going to put it, so...”

“So, shit.” Elliott pushed up. “I should find an excuse to get those two apart.”

Zeke pulled out his phone. “Good, you’re leaving. I’ll call Mandy.” His voice was totally without sarcasm, just...happiness.

“It’s good, isn’t it?” Elliott asked.

Zeke beamed. “Like nothing I’ve ever known.”

That hollow feeling that had gotten so familiar in the last few days deepened in his chest. “Do me a favor and look into that other land. I’ll cover the clearing costs, no matter how astronomical they are. I’m getting out of the first deal I made.”

“I will. I’ll work on it this afternoon, but you have to do me a favor,” Zeke replied.

“Whatever you need, buddy.”

“Don’t fight it.”

Elliott knew exactly what the other man meant. “I’m...working on it.”

“No, I mean it.” Zeke stood up to level Elliott with a straight gaze. “You always go for the effortless way out of things. If it’s real, it’s worth doing the tough stuff, even if it hurts.”

“Tough? I’ve been living in a trailer and cleaning up goat shit for her.”

“It can get much tougher than that, my friend. Especially if you want it to be real.”

Elliott turned again to look at her, just at the very moment she spotted him. Her face brightened, and her smile blinded and, damn it, his every nerve cell threatened to fry. Felt real enough.
 

“It is real,” he said softly, unable to take his eyes off her.
 

“Not as long as you’re lying to her, it’s not.”

His heart dropped a little. “Look, I’m going to tell her everything, but not until after I call that lawyer and kill the deal. It can’t be pending, she’ll never believe me. I’ll track him down this afternoon and pull the offer that I put in.”

“And then what?”

“Then I’ll tell her and...” He finally turned to Zeke. “Who knows, Einstein? Maybe the Niners will be looking for two replacements.”

Zeke gave him a nudge. “Get ’er done, cowboy.”

Elliott snorted. “I’m no more of a cowboy than you are.”

“But you are a straight shooter. If you want to talk to Burns first, do it, but make it right with her as soon as you can.”

“I will.” And he meant it.

* * *

Frankie’s soaring heart rate had to be her excitement over how well the meeting had gone with the spa manager who’d walked her outside to say goodbye. It simply couldn’t be the sight of Elliott Becker on the pavilion having lunch with his friend, his dark gaze locked on her like she was his one and only target.

Except he’d been looking at her a lot like that lately. And, every time, a thousand butterflies in her stomach made a mockery of her attempts to be cool. But cool had become warm, and warm was fast reaching the boiling point.

She wanted him. The kisses, the touches, the secret looks and sexy words and his poor, pathetic attempt to hide her effect on him in the shower...it had taken every ounce of self-control she’d ever had not to climb in there and finish the job for him and every time he’d taken a shower since then.

She’d been relieved when they’d gone off in different directions this morning, happy to have some time where her head didn’t feel light and her limbs heavy with need.
 

“I know, it’s amazing.” The comment yanked Frankie back to the moment, and she instantly returned her focus to Jocelyn Palmer, who was still holding and smelling some of the soap samples.

She closed her eyes and inhaled the mimosa and orange bar. “Mimosa Mornings,” she said with a smile. “I just love how you’ve given these such incredible names and tied them all to the island. We could have so much fun with that!”

“I already have,” Frankie said with a laugh.
 

“We are all about locally grown.” Jocelyn’s dark eyes gleamed with an inner peace and joy that Frankie already admired. “And romance,” she said. “With so many destination weddings booked, I’d love to offer these perfectly named products in welcome gifts and baskets, if you’re ready to ramp up production. Our brides might like them for wedding favors, too.”

“I can be ready. I’m...” Frankie turned to follow Jocelyn’s gaze, not the least bit surprised to see Elliott striding across the deck toward them, a black polo accentuating every muscle, even though it hung loose over casual cargo shorts.
 

He trotted down a few steps, extending a confident hand to Jocelyn. “You must be the spa manager Frankie was so excited to meet with today. I’m Elliott Becker.”