Tempting Isabel (Paradise South #1) (21 page)

She felt inclined to reach her hand out to his, hoping to bring him back. She swallowed hard as she slid her hand across the table toward his. And when her fingers met his warm, slightly rough skin, his hand flinched, he shot his chair away from the table, and rocketed up to standing.

She inhaled fast, watching his wide green eyes target hers with abrupt and icy harshness. “Listen, I appreciate you helping…Darren and Amy…keeping their wedding in one piece. But it’s all damn easy for you to say…
anything
! All can be forgiven from
your
seat!”

Isabel stayed calm and cool, as if all she felt from his
dagger-storm
of deadly sharp icicles was the crisp air they tore through.

She looked into his face and said in a frosty and firm tone right back at him, “Yes, Zack, it’s
really
easy
for me. Among too many things to mention, my parents…left me, and most of my brothers and sisters have all but disowned me. All because of…my past. Things I had no control over. So, no, there’s no one for me to forgive in
my
life. Because they’re all gone. It’s all just peaches and fucking cream for me.”

Zack froze there, in his tall, arrogant stance, making no eye contact. He seemed smart enough to not dare look at her then, while she on the other hand, wouldn’t remove her glare for an instant. He sighed, then laid his hands flat on the tabletop, his chest heaving. He seemed caught. In limbo. Go or stay?
What would it be
? she wondered. He wouldn’t look up, still avoiding her eyes, only looking down into his mint green soup. She stayed silent, stuck
mid-breath
. A second came and went, then another, and another still. They all passed them by, gone forever.

He cleared his throat, swallowed hard, then slowly, pensively sat back down across from her.

So, he was apparently staying.

The tension was still thick though. And in the awkward lull, his eyes still hiding from hers, she smirked to herself. If she were speaking to one of her usual wedding guests, they’d both be schmoozing and laughing over the day’s or week’s antics already, sipping the last of their melted sweets.

But Zack and Isabel just continued to sit in sharp, frigid silence.

Fireworks on the bay cracked in distraction, brightening up the evening sky. Then came a loud pop, which made Isabel jump in her seat and bump the table. Zack’s second bowl of ice cream soup spilled onto his lap.

You’ve got to be kidding
me?

Isabel came around the table to help while he had already patted the spill into his pants with too many napkins, most of them catching the wind, flying across the cobblestone street and away.

She smirked at him, really because this sort of thing usually happened to her, except it was becoming more and more apparent that they didn’t happen to
her
when she was around
him
. He got the brunt of it all.

She got some clean napkins and a cup of water from the counter boy, and taking a little spray bottle from her purse without hesitating, attended to Zack’s crotch. He didn’t stop her or seem to mind, and when she was done, the stain was gone, and he thanked her with his eyes. Those eyes. She’d missed them over the last frosty minutes.

She
re-situated
herself in her seat. And he brought his seat back close to the small round table as well. Then he glanced at her with a soft, surrendered expression. Like he was done fuming. Like he had come back to the table and come back to her.

She nodded, smiled, then lifted her brows, asking without words if she could speak. He nodded hesitantly and returned his gaze downward.

“A comedy of errors,” she said.

“A comedy of errors?”

“Yes. Words I live by these days. So, think about the irony of the entire situation. Start with innocent, young Amy, so in love with her fiancé, wanting to give him a second chance with his dad. She doesn’t say anything to anyone about any big scheme she’s got cooked up, she doesn’t consider consequences or repercussions. There’s no forethought, and she knows nothing of the need for careful handling of such a matter. She hasn’t had enough
matters
in her life
to
handle.”

She paused. The fireworks grand finale had begun, and while it was too loud to talk through it, she also wanted to get a sense of where Zack was with her reasoning. His eyes were still down on his fidgeting fingers. Listening and registering or just brooding, she couldn’t know, but he was staying with her at the table for two, nonetheless. A good sign.

She looked up to admire the sparkling light show in the meantime.

As she did, she could immediately feel him watching her. His
red-hot
vibrations radiated from three feet away. Was it anger? Resentment? Frustration, maybe? She just didn’t know. But the strange anchored feeling that enveloped her whenever she was with him was still present, and it kept her there, vested, with a purpose. A purpose beyond being Amy’s wedding planner. No, she would stay to make her point and to maybe alleviate his pain. If only a little.

*

Minutes later, the crackling spectacle ended. He looked back down just as she glanced at him again, picking up where she’d left off.

“So…I was saying, can we really get upset with Amy? It’s just a case of naiveté meets good intentions, you know?”

Zack’s head tilted in consideration.

“And then, there’s you, Zack.”

His eyes shot up, a slight warning flashing on his face.

Tread delicately.
“You’re just discovering your own
Catch-22
, which is protecting Darren from being hurt by your recently surfaced resentment of…Darren, your own brother. Seems to me to be, well, a comedy of errors, your dad being the smallest part of the damn joke, but the instigator of it all.”

Zack narrowed his eyes and repeated as if to himself, “A comedy of errors.”

“The universe has quite the sense of humor, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, right.”

Then he lifted his gaze to meet hers. The heavy feeling in her chest lifted slowly.

He swallowed, sighed, then licked his lips, set to speak. “Well, with that said, I wonder what joke it has in store for us next. Because, knowing how
self-centered
my dick of a father is, he wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for something…
self-serving
.”

“Possibly.”

“Definitely.”

“But your father’s actions, ill or otherwise, are beyond your control or Darren’s. But the relief Darren will feel, and that you
would
feel, if you let the bastard off the hook…a feeling of true indifference. That pathetic asshole would hold no more importance to you than a stranger who steals your parking spot at the grocery store. Then whatever the man’s evil and ghastly plans turn out to be, it wouldn’t affect you or your brother in the least. You wouldn’t care enough to let it. Apathetic freedom.”

His lip curled up coyly, as if defeated by her logic. “Text Amy,” he ordered. “Tell her that everything is fine and that Zack
is
the best man, the
only
best man.” He allowed a small smile to form and added, “I’ll text my brother.”

CHAPTER 26

H
e reviewed in
his mind all the hits his pride had taken in the presence of this woman. He had become a clumsy, stuttering asshole; he had been fucked and left by her in the middle of the night; and now, he had been advised and enlightened by her.

And he still wanted her more than anyone or anything else in the world.

He pulled out his phone to text his brother quickly.
Let’s talk tonight. Be back soon, your rightful best
man.

“Isabel, walk with me.” He came around to her side and pulled her chair out, confirming that his statement wasn’t a request.

They moved along the boardwalk, crowded with merchants and hawkers, families and young couples moving in and out of their path. The moonlight showed through patches of clouds, hinting rain, but holding out.

And each time the moon glow broke through the threatening sky, Isabel glowed, and he almost tripped twice from the distraction.

“Isabel, as a wedding planner, you’re nosy and meddlesome. I might even add arrogant!” He worked hard to hide his smirk. “But I’m really grateful. Words of wisdom that I probably wouldn’t have heard from anyone else.”

She smiled, a glimmer of pride in her large doe eyes. And he felt that she was glad to be there with him––or maybe he was just being hopeful. Maybe she was just glad to have been able to help. And—or—to have accomplished the goal of her paying client, the bride. At that point, her motivation didn’t matter to him; he was just ecstatic to be near her.

They walked on, both watching the
mini-scenes
surrounding them. Then she paused and stared hard at the back of some man’s head. Zack could tell she wasn’t concerned about the man being a wedding guest from the
James-Rine
party, because she actually moved in tighter to him, as if under his wing.

“Do you know that guy?”

“Oh, no. No. Just thought it was someone.” She released the tension in her face and put the space back between them, ready to walk on normally.

After a few steps forward and a long sigh, she paused and looked up at him, as if ready to explain herself, like he’d asked for an explanation.

“This is embarrassing,” she said, her sweet, wide eyes catching his, as if to ask him to withhold all comments or laughter. “My longtime friend, actually my best friend, Roberto…well, he’s become a bit obsessed. With me. I got pretty smashed one night, and our relationship kinda crossed the line of no return. I mean, I was so drunk that I don’t remember any of it, but the next morning it was pretty obvious what had happened…and let’s just say he sees things, us, differently now.”

“You? Smashed? I would pay to see the slobbering, silly Isabel.” Zack laughed out loud, teasing her as he pictured chasing her around his hotel suite, both of them buck naked and giggling. Then him
catching
her. And pleasuring her. Oh God, to pleasure her again. And again.

Whoa. Come the fuck back, Zack.

“I wish it were funny, but it’s actually gotten a little creepy.”

“Is it Blue Eyes from the bar? Or is this a
different
stalker?”

“Yeah, he was the
other
‘knight in shining armor’ at the bar,” she said in a teasing tone, accompanied by a hint of surprise in her eyes, like Zack had worked magic somehow in knowing. But it took no fucking magic, the look of desperate need had been written all over that guy’s face that night.

“Ah, yes, the
other
knight,” he cracked with a grin, her dig by no means escaping him. “So, you’ve been straight with him? About how you feel?”

“Yes. I told him we needed a break. But he still showed up at the bar that night, among other things. But he’s a great guy, like a brother to me. And I didn’t know he saw me as anything but a sister. And then that one night happened, damn it!”

“Isabel. Seriously? You have got to know that other than an actual blood brother, there isn’t a man on the planet who sees you as a sister.”

She blushed a little, a modest smile lifting her face.

“For a brilliant woman, you’re naïve as hell, you know that? Bordering on oblivious.” He nudged her with his elbow and grinned as a pack of young guys gawked at her, slowing their pace to a crawl as they went by. Zack cleared his throat. “See? My point.”

She slapped his arm and then hooked hers through his. So naturally. They walked on in silence for a bit. Fuck, he liked this. Their vibe, their comfort level.

“Hey…I’ve got my
own
stalker, so don’t get yourself a big head.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes it is so. The lovely maid of honor wants me. Bad.” His eyebrows lifted for emphasis. “And although I think the woman is certifiably insane, I might just have to snag myself a little wedding party hookup,” he teased, making Isabel purse her lips and cut him with a look. “What, you’re not allowed to play until after the wedding’s over,” he said, giving her more shit. She just blushed and shook her head at him.

He was loving the subliminal confirmation he got back from her, that she wanted him, maybe even close to as much as he wanted her. But unlikely. Because although it would be his greatest wish, he doubted she could ever want him as infinitely as he wanted her.

“You
so
should. I heard that she’s very…deep. She could tell you your horoscope while she has you chained to the refrigerator, and then she could make you a candlelit dinner with the bunny she killed!” She laughed. He loved that laugh of hers from the first time he’d heard it, albeit at his expense at the Five Breezes. It was a whole and hearty laugh, damn sexy, and it got his heart pounding every time.

And that moved the conversation into the realm of endless antics about this wedding and past weddings Isabel had planned.

“I’m used to drama, but the mother and sister of this bride are on a whole different level. I can already tell…a level only reserved for celebrity gigs! Not even my boss will have as many issues with the Marco event as—” She shut her mouth and covered it with her
French-manicured
fingers. A coy smile crept out from behind.

“Something you aren’t supposed to say, Isabel? Half a secret is already spilled. Come on now.”

“Can I trust you?”

He could only smirk at her.

“Seriously, if you even say anything to Darren…I can tell he’s the type who couldn’t keep the color of his morning piss from Amy. And sweet Amy…if she knew, her little bridesmaids would spread it far and wide for sure.”

“I can keep a secret. It’s cool.” She gave a slantways look at him, needing more. “Okay, I promise!” he said laughing, hand over his heart.

“Marco. Golden Rings is handling his wedding in Sayulita this weekend, the same day as your brother’s.”

“Sorry, Isabel,” Zack replied, “but who’s Marco?”

“Seriously? And you say you’re loyal to Vallarta. Hell, are you loyal to planet Earth? The guy is hot the world over! ‘Struck by Luck’?”

“Yeah, I know that song!” He hated that damn song, and it played incessantly on the rental car’s preprogrammed radio stations. “Just from being down here this trip, though. What can I say? I’m a healthy blend of world traveling
ex-womanizer
and introverted loner.”

“Or just deaf!” She laughed.

He gave her a look along with a nudge from his overpowering right shoulder. It knocked her off balance but he quickly put his arms around her, preventing her fall. Her body’s warmth caught him off guard, having been so
hands-off
all night. He allowed his grasp to linger there. He had to, or his fuses would short circuit, the stark contrast without her warming vibration would do that, he knew.

So he held on to her, his arms around her waist, his hands flat on her side, just until she looked up at him with a blink and a smile. And God, she melted him with that damn smile.

*

He wished the night would last forever, her arm in his as they walked, their conversation picking up from where it had paused with her near fall.

“So, yeah, I guess the whole global Marco phenomenon isn’t my thing. I’m actually all about 90s rock, you know, the dark,
head-banging
stuff,” he said. “What about you?”

For a split second she had a definite and excited spark in her eyes, which she blinked away on the next beat, as if they might have that in common, and weirdly, she wouldn’t dare admit it. She only shrugged. “Not much time for music of my own choosing. Just playlists for you know, weddings…”

Hmmm.
“Except for dance music. Strong beats, yes? Like at La Sexta?”

She threw him a coy smile. “Not so much to listen to on my back deck, but yes, to dance to. Like at the club.”

God she got him so hot. And just thinking about how she moved her body against his those nights at the club. Hell, he would’ve done anything to get her back to his suite right now—off the clock.

But he maintained. He actually only thought about slipping himself inside her hot velvet sweetness every few minutes, as opposed to every other second. Because she honestly intrigued him, captivated him like no other woman had, way beyond her exasperating sexual magnetism. He really could listen to her stories, her laugh, her voice all night long.

But, he couldn’t lie—that creamy, sensual voice calling out his name over and over again while he brought her to the brink the other night would have been more than welcome, too.

*

They got lost in conversation, in each other, for what turned into hours. They talked about their upbringings. He loved hearing about her large family, twelve children in all.
Jesus!
And he wasn’t surprised to know she was the youngest, she had fight in her, something to prove. And in a family that large, he could only imagine how much she’d had to fight and prove just to survive.

They shared more lifetime details. He’d foregone college while Isabel told him about taking night courses in secret on her own dime. Zack had flown around the globe in his own private jet by age
twenty-two
while she had never left ‘her’ Mexico.

He told her of his lofty adventures, catching the sense of wonder in her eyes. “I just can’t imagine it, a life filled with just…anything you could want. It sounds like…heaven,” she said.

“But of all that excitement, luxury, and comfort…all the women…none of it amounted to anything real. Nothing lasting.” He looked at her to be sure she caught his deeper admission––
all the women
––and his regret for having unconsciously insulted her when they first met, the whole
panties-caper
. But more than that, he realized now the waste of time, energy, heart, and soul that his splurges had sucked from him.

But not anymore.

“I’ve had this pit in my gut, Isabel, like I have everything in the world, but nothing at the same time. The richest food doesn’t last past the moments on your tongue, you know? It is all so damn…fleeting. Until this trip to Vallarta.”

She stared at him as if he was from a different planet. Did she get that it was her who had plugged the dam for him? Or did she just think he was a spoiled asshole complaining about the pains of being wealthy as hell?

“I can’t really relate, but I guess on a much less expensive scale…here I am, living in paradise. Foreigners look at me, maybe envious of me, being able to go to these amazing beaches, surf, breathe this fresh ocean air
twenty-four
-seven. Oh, hell, never mind…it is flippin’ amazing here, and it’s real to me every day.” She laughed. “They should be jealous!”

He laughed, loving her energy and how perfectly fulfilled she was with her home, the simply spectacular paradise of Puerto Vallarta.

She went on, her voice a melody. “I mean, I imagine life is tough, relatively speaking, for everyone, everywhere. Either physically, mentally, or emotionally, right? Or all three combined! But anyway, for me, when I can’t find a reason to get out of bed, I hear the ocean right behind my house and it all fades away.”

He was lulled by her words and felt calmed with the hope that maybe she did understand. Maybe he wasn’t alone in the stoic nothingness he felt, especially when he was without her. Then he remembered her scars, her marks of misery indelibly splayed on her wrist, and the pain they represented. With no further talk of it, he could trust that she understood the void, probably better than he did, he being a newer member to the ‘reality club.’ He guessed from her scars that her pain ran several long years deep. Forever and a day deep, even.

Isabel’s surfing stories brought him back to present. Her vivid details let Zack imagine her as a little girl fighting mammoth waves and killing it. He smiled because he’d always been scared shitless of surfing, since childhood actually. This woman just kicked his ass at every corner. “I feel most alive when I’m in the water, even though, God, I haven’t surfed in years.” She trailed off, obviously nostalgic, missing it beyond words.

“I’ve always been kind of afraid of the ocean, the jellyfish and sharks.” He laughed. “And the waves, and the undertow. Ever since I was a kid.”

A sweet sympathy crossed her face in response to his admission.

“But, hey, you have enough courage for the both of us, and I just might be ready to conquer my fear now. You can give me a surfing lesson or two, that is, of course, after the wedding’s over. I need to start small, but I’d trust my life in your hands, Isabel Ruiz.” He smiled at her, but after having put it out there, he both loved and despised his own grand idea. The great, unknown sea—shit, it really more than terrified him. But solidifying a time and place to see her again, he was in love with that thought.

But not so much for her. Her response was only a polite,
thin-lipped
smile. Warm to cold in an instant.

They walked on, her silence strangling him breathless. Why the sudden shift? She’d basically drowned his attempt. What the hell? The vibe they’d shared throughout the night was so palpable, without a doubt. And he wanted more of it. He wanted to see this woman again, and again, but for some reason, she just left him dangling there.

*