The Scandal (Billionaire's Beach Book 4) (18 page)

Sara looked to the inquiring expressions on Emmaline, Essie, and Joaquin’s faces, then rubbed her palms together. “Fresh blood, Wells. Let’s get out what we need.”

They set up the game on the beach, the 2 x 4 foot wooden platforms set about twenty feet apart and angled so that the holes cut into them were about twelve inches above the sand.

“It goes like this,” Sara told the assembled group. “Wells?”

The boy demonstrated an underhand toss with a bean bag. It sailed through the air and landed with a plop directly in the hole. Sara applauded her partner.

And those new to the game immediately demanded practice time.

Wells and Sara took seats on the beach to watch and assess the competition. Essie—decent. Emmaline—terrible. Joaquin—much too competent for a newbie.

“Have you really never played this before?” Sara called out, suspicious.

His grin blinded her with infectious unrepentance. “Afraid, little girl?”

“We’re the champions,” Wells declared staunchly. “We’re not afraid of anyone.”

“Yeah,” Sara said, slinging her arm around the boy. “Champions of the world.”

“Care to put a wager on it?” Joaquin asked, voice sly.

“Like what?” Wells asked, excited. “What do we get if we win?”

“For you, my man, an ice cream run. For her…” He looked over at Sara, rubbing his chin as if he was mulling the many possibilities.

A kiss. A caress. An orgasm.
She cursed her wayward mind and blushing face. Would he be able to read her thoughts? “I like ice cream, too,” she said.

Joaquin’s gaze seemed to laser in on her mouth. “I happen to know quite a few things that you like.”

Oh, crud
. Her hot face must be really obvious because Emmaline was suddenly giving her the side eye. Desperate to regain her cool, Sara jumped to her feet and then made a big show of glancing at her watch. “Five more minutes of practice time. Use it wisely.” Then she hurried into the house as if in search of something more than escape.

There, in the kitchen, she saw Charlie and Ethan putting leftovers away. Instead of strolling straight in, Sara found herself hovering. Eavesdropping.

“I can do this myself,” her friend was saying as he handed her a plastic container to shelve in the refrigerator. “Go out and join the others.”

“You’re already doing more than your contract states,” Ethan answered. “With the nanny quitting…”

“I have feelers out. We’ll find a replacement soon. I’m sorry the last one didn’t work out—”

“Don’t apologize again, Charlie. We both know
I
made the selection.”

She glanced over at the man with a small smile that made Sara’s pulse hammer in that disconcerting fashion again. “She told you she didn’t have a lot of experience but needed the job. I know someone else to whom you gave that same exact chance.”

“Ah, but you had that diploma from the Continental Butler School and, happily, that’s worked out well.” He hesitated. “Right? You’re happy?”

“Of course,” Charlie said, her gaze on the items she was rearranging. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Ethan shrugged. “I… It’s important that you’re honest with me, Charlie. Lately you’ve seemed a bit…stiff.”

At that last word, Charlie’s spine snapped straight. “I don’t know what you mean,” she said, her voice as cool as the milk carton she slid to the right. “Everything is just fine with me and with Wells and I hope with you, too.”

“There it is,” Ethan said, frowning. “You’re—”

“Almost late for the cornhole match!” Sara said, strolling into the kitchen as if she’d just arrived. “I’m here to bring you back to watch the magnificence of Wells and me as we defeat any and all competitors.”

Both Charlie and Ethan turned, Charlie’s face registering gratefulness for the interruption and the man donning an amused smile.

“Put like that, I can’t plead jet lag. I’m just going to have to show you young ’uns that an old guy like me still has a win or two inside him.”

They all three trooped back to the beach. The setting sun painted the sky in a poppy orange and yellow, and the ocean looked like an animated painting as a sailboat crossed its surface. Seabirds dared the waves and more swooped above with their hoarse cries, and Sara looked from the scene to the players gathered on the sand. Charlie stood far from Ethan.

She had not fallen in love with Wells’ dad, Sara decided. The universe had rules, like the direction of the setting sun and the moon’s responsibility for the ocean’s tides. Those same rules precluded Charlie from making a mistake by becoming attached to Ethan Archer.

With that thought firmly planted, Sara outlined the rules of the game for the group, teams were picked, and competition began.

As predicted, in the doubles round, Wells and Sara won the day. The boy crowed in triumph and ran victory laps around the rest, not stopping until he was out of breath. But he wasn’t too tired to lead off in the singles round, with his dad and Joaquin promising retribution. Charlie and Essie hung in to compete as well, while Emmaline and Sara opted for being mere bystanders now, sitting on the cooling sand.

“This has been fun,” the brunette butler said.

“Agreed.”

Emmaline had her gaze trained on the players. “Hot,” she said. “Very hot.”

“Take your sweater off.”

Her friend’s lips twitched, and she glanced over. “I just might have to. But you know I’m referring to the two men out there, right?”

Sara’s own gaze swerved from Emmaline to take them in. First Ethan who looked younger than usual with his hair wind-tossed and his lips curved in a half-smile. Wells was giving him pointers as he hefted a bean bag in one hand.

Near the other platform stood Joaquin, his eyes alight as he laughed at something his sister said. Sara’s heart hiccupped, and she caught her breath as his gaze cut to her. She could feel it, as strong as a physical touch, and she pressed her fist against her stomach as if to still the flutters there.

Then she realized that Emmaline was giving her the side-eye again, so she cleared her throat. “They’re quite handsome, I suppose,” she said, her voice prim.

Emmaline chuckled. “I suppose.” Her elbow nudged Sara’s ribs. “I’m hoping I get so lucky.”

“I didn’t get lucky!” Sara responded quickly. Too quickly. “I mean, it was, um, Charlie who tipped me off about the job. How about you?” she asked, desperate to redirect the conversation. “Any prospects?”

“Maybe,” Emmaline said. “I have an interview tomorrow.”

“That’s great…” Sara’s train of thought drifted away as her gaze landed on Charlie. The woman had her hands in her hair, pulling pins. The wind took hold of the long, glossy tresses, and they flew out like a flag. Charlie drew her fingers through them as if enjoying the sensation.

“Letting down her hair,” Emmaline murmured. “Good.”

Bad
, Sara thought, because Charlie was looking in the direction of father and son, and her expression was one she’d never seen on her friend’s face. “She’s…she’s fond of Wells, don’t you think?”

Emmaline’s brows rose. “Sure. Fond of Wells.”

“And…Ethan? It seems they get along. It’s nice that they get along.”

“I only just met him tonight,” Emmaline said. “But he seems to like and respect Charlie very much.”

Sara nodded with vigor. “And she likes and respects him very much right back.”

“Um…” Emmaline turned her head to look at Sara, eyes narrowing. “Are we talking in euphemisms?”

“We’re just talking,” Sara said, jumping to her feet to get away from her friend’s inquiring gaze. “No way is it any more than that.”

When the competition concluded this time, the singles bragging rights went to Joaquin, who ran his own victory laps until Essie stuck out her foot and he tumbled, taking her down with him. They lay with their backs on the sand, laughing like loons, and Sara felt something new wash though her heart.

A…fondness, maybe. Yes, a fondness like Charlie felt for darling Wells.

No crime that, being fond of Essie and her big brother. There might be other things Joaquin activated—Sara’s libido, for example—but it wasn’t any dire thing to care about the people of her household in this warm fashion.

It was all part of being their butler.

As dark descended, the guests dispersed. Emmaline headed off in her car to the small apartment she was subletting. Sara, Joaquin, and Essie started up the beach to Nueva Vida. Sara found herself looking back over her shoulder to see Ethan, Charlie, and Wells standing on the deck, backlit by the lights in the house. She waved, and as one, they waved back.

Sara suppressed the sudden need to race to her friend and warn against disaster.
Don’t fall in love. It’s too easy to fall in love with the wrong person!

“Ms. Sara the Butler, when are we going out for ice cream?”

She looked back at Joaquin. “What?”

“Our bet. I owe you and Wells triple cones.”

“You were nice to him,” she said.

“Yeah, it’s a real hardship to play horseshoes and a silly beanbag game with one little kid.”

They’d reached the house. Essie jogged up the steps to the deck and disappeared inside the house.

“You didn’t let him win at horseshoes,” Sara said. “He would have hated that.”

“Yeah? Well, he didn’t let me win doubles cornhole, so that’s fair.”

She smiled at his fake grumble. “Thanks. Thanks for it all. I had fun.”

“Good.” Joaquin began mounting the stairs, then stopped and looked back. “I had fun too, and I’d sort of forgotten what that’s like. Thanks for continuing to remind me.” He resumed his climb.

Sara stayed where she was, a smile still on her face. Yes, she was very fond of Joaquin. Then he stopped again. In the deepening dusk, she saw the concern on his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Images from the night played in her mind. Joaquin as the bearer of potato salad. Joaquin charming Emmaline. Joaquin playing with Wells and then playing cornhole. Joaquin whooping like the boy while taking ridiculous victory laps until being taken down by Essie. Their two faces, alight with laughter.

Joaquin, leaning close to Sara and saying,
She’s gone for him.

Now he held out his hand to her. “Come on, doll, you can’t stay out here alone in the dark. We don’t want the boogeyman to get you.”

His warm fingers closed over hers. At the touch, her heart lurched. At his pull, she followed, even as she realized something. Something big.

The boogeyman already had her.

Because…oh, God, she’d done it. She’d done the very thing she’d always known not to do.
She
had fallen for the wrong person.

Her breath caught in her throat and her heart beat hard in her chest, as if it might find escape. But there was no place to run and no way to hide from the truth.

Joaquin didn’t loosen his hold on her as they crossed the deck. Sighing, she surrendered to what couldn’t be avoided or ignored any longer.

She was in love with a self-professed workaholic bachelor. A self-professed workaholic bachelor who was no more interested in a long-lasting romantic attachment than she’d been before they’d met.

Chapter 10

The next few days passed in relative quiet for Joaquin. Essie had Lulu and RJ come over again for few nights, and the teenagers horsed around on the beach and in the house, entertaining him with their antics. He did a lot of running, too, getting up early and meeting Ethan Archer on the beach for a daily sweat at dawn.

The day after the cornhole tournament, Sara had wrapped herself in her tight butler mantle. She performed all her tasks with her usual competence. Unfortunately, the reserve he’d managed to chip from her at times was back, harder, cooler than before.

On the day the two extra teens returned to their homes, he tried engaging her anyway. “How about that ice cream cone I owe you?”

But she brushed him off by saying she needed to supervise a service call from the furnace people. The excuse sounded like baloney to him, and when he’d glanced at Essie he could see that she agreed.

He also thought his sister had something bothering her. Earlier, he’d tried a few open-ended questions, but she’d not shown the slightest inclination to share what was on her mind. Maybe a change of scene would open her up.

“Okay, kid,” he said. “Get your shoes on. We’re going out.”

Once in the car, he tried the top-down trick again, remembering Sara had loosened up with the sun on her face and the wind in her hair. Glancing over at Essie slumped in the passenger seat, he noted she’d donned a pair of dark glasses, obscuring her expression. She could be crying behind them. Sleeping. Rolling her eyes at the boredom of being with the brother she barely knew.

The brother she barely knew.

That gave him an idea.

Leaving the Pacific Coast Highway, he headed inland.

“Where are we going?” Essie asked, sliding out of her slouch.

“My old stomping grounds. Where Felipe and I grew up.” Two freeways later, and he was motoring through the streets of West Hollywood. “I haven’t been here in years.”

“Here?” Essie repeated, pushing her sunglasses onto the top of her head. Her gaze darted about as he took yet another turn.

Horton Avenue looked different than he recalled. Narrower. What had seemed a Mississippi to cross while chasing a ball was now a mere stream of asphalt. The trees had grown, though. He couldn’t name their kind—he supposed Sara would know—but they were leafy and provided shade for the cracked and uneven sidewalk.

That hadn’t changed. Always been a bitch to ride on a skateboard.

The structures on the short blocks were mostly apartment buildings with a few simple, single-family dwellings here and there. He craned his neck to take in one new high-rise. Huh. Condos. What had been on that corner before…ah. A drycleaners and a convenience store. They’d bought slushy drinks and packaged cupcakes there. It had smelled of burnt coffee and motor oil.

On the next block he found the destination he sought. It had never been much to look at, a rectangular two-story building with eight units of apartments. Some parking spaces were tucked beneath the second level and the windows were still the kind with louvered glass that could be cranked open.