Will Work For Love (8 page)

“Boston seems so far away right now.” Whitney sipped
her drink as she looked out the wall of windows catching the pink
and orange glow from the sunset. “Not that I’m complaining,” she
said, her smile also catching the glow from the setting sun.

“So I have you all to myself,” Chris said, leaning
closer. He couldn’t get the feel of her lips or her smell out of
his mind. This dinner might just drive him over the edge.

“For the next eight and a half days,” she said
lightly. “And then,” she leaned in and whispered conspiratorially,
“all hell breaks loose.”

“Zombies are attacking the island?” he asked.

“House guests. Lots of them. And then there won’t be
a minute’s peace.”

“The wedding,” Chris said flatly.

Whitney rolled her eyes. “I don’t even want to think
about it right now. It’s such a mess.”

“Then why go through with it?”

Whitney took another sip of her drink and leveled
him with a serious stare. It must have been a look just like that
that had Rick thinking she could be dangerous. He backed off a few
inches. If she didn’t want to get married, he couldn’t think of a
single reason why she should. A woman with charm, sizzle, and legs
like that didn’t have to settle for anyone she didn’t want.

“Because I said I would and I’m not letting Taylor
down.”

“Taylor is lucky to have you,” he said softly.

Whitney took a deep breath and blew it out slowly,
her hand toying with a piece of silverware left on the table after
their appetizer plates had been cleared away.

“Honestly, I’m the lucky one,” she said.

Chris knew his face probably gave away his confusion
and even frustration. He couldn’t help it. Whitney was technically
his opponent, and they were on opposite sides of a mess that he had
created, even though his intentions were good. She could take down
his company with a snap of her fingers. And yet he hated the fact
that she appeared to be sacrificing herself to a wedding she was
going through with for some reason other than the right reason.

He knew he shouldn’t care. His real reason for
spending time with her was to distract her from her admittedly
justified anger at Blue Isle Construction. At least, that was the
story he was trying to sell himself. He couldn’t help the fact that
the process of distracting her was so…attractive to him. Her green
eyes rimmed in black and the way the light glanced off her long
brown hair as she raised her head to smile at him should have
frightened him more than the angry ultimatum she left on his
answering machine. And it did. The logical part of his brain told
him he should be very much on his guard.

And yet, she continued to surprise him. She seemed
loyal to the East family, but then she was here having dinner with
him when she was marrying Taylor East in only about ten days. She
kissed him like she meant it on his boat, but she was still
planning her walk down the aisle. With someone else. What the
hell?

He wanted to kiss her anyway. Kiss her until she
forgot whatever her problem was. Even though he already knew. He
had to help her to save his business. Wanted to help her. Somehow.
Chris had spent the last three years playing Robin Hood and trying
to help everyone on St. Thomas with their problems. But it wasn’t
enough. He wanted to do the same thing for Whitney.

And he was. He was finishing the project at East
Pointe. She just didn’t know it yet. With Rick, he’d mapped out a
plan that would take one really inspired super-man to complete. But
it was possible. Starting tomorrow and working night and day, it
would be completed before her wedding on Christmas Eve.

Saving his company had to be his first priority, and
maybe it was just lucky that it would save her wedding plans, too.
Technically speaking, he’d been using the East’s money for months.
He owed them. He owed her.

She was looking at him like he was supposed to be
saying something. What the heck had they been talking about? He had
no idea what to say. When in doubt, he usually looked to food for a
solution. Couldn’t help it. It had been working for years.

“Should we order dinner?” he asked.

To his relief, Whitney nodded and picked up the
menus. She handed one to him, letting her fingers brush his for a
fraction of a second. Chris hid behind his menu, trying not to
think about the way her skin felt and how much he wanted to believe
this was a real date. Just thinking of how a real date ought to end
in his books made his cargo shorts tight and his judgment
foggy.

Chris didn’t know what to think right now, but he
knew he would almost certainly be able to think better on a full
stomach.

****

After dinner, they walked down by the harbor. It was
much quieter than last night. In fact, it was pretty deserted for a
Monday night. Whitney felt warm and content after an excellent
meal, a sweet strawberry daiquiri, and hours of being with Chris.
They hardly knew each other, but she felt like she could confide in
him. She had to talk to someone about the mess at East Pointe and
she sure couldn’t talk to Taylor about it.

“You’re quiet,” he said. She could hardly see his
face in the darkness, but the sound of his voice was enough.

“I was thinking about East Pointe.”

“East Pointe?”

“Taylor’s home. Where I’m staying.”

Chris put his arm around her shoulders and drew her
closer as they both faced the dark water and the lights dancing off
the cruise ships.

“Nice place?”

“It was. But it’s a total wreck now.” She sighed.
“Hurricane Destiny.”

“Oh.” He pulled her even closer, beard stubble
prickling her cheek.

Whitney knew he would be sympathetic. The trip to
deliver supplies for free to his friends in need on St. John
convinced her he had a heart as broad as his amazing shoulders.
What would it hurt to tell him her problems? She would explode if
she kept it all bottled inside.

“The wedding is on Christmas Eve, and I came down
early just to check on things. I thought I would have a few details
to hammer out, and then I’d enjoy a two-week vacation.”

“So that’s why you packed so much into that giant
red suitcase?”

Whitney laughed. “I don’t think I’ll have time to
wear it all. I’ll be busy wrangling with the construction company
that was supposed to do all the work.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

He was so sweet. Whitney started to feel sorry for
herself for the first time. The pressure of trying to get it all
done without saying anything to upset Taylor got to her.

“It’s all right. The work will get done. Some of it
anyway. Somehow.” She felt like crying and her voice shook a
little. “This wedding is too important.”

Chris tilted his head and kissed her temple. “Maybe
I—”

Whitney’s phone rang and she reached into her little
purse to look at the caller ID. It was Taylor.

“I have to take this call,” she said.

Chris released his hold on her and Whitney walked a
few feet away from him.

“Taylor, let’s hear your fabulous news.”

“It’s a girl!”

“Awesome!” Whitney caught Taylor’s excitement and
her smile spanned her entire face. She almost couldn’t imagine
their happiness.

“Healthy and perfect,” Taylor continued. “And
there’s more news. Are you ready for this? Jackson and I have
decided to name her after you.”

Whitney gasped and couldn’t say anything. She sat
down on a bench near the harbor railing.

“I’m glad it’s a girl,” Taylor continued, “because
we were going to name it after you either way. Your last name is
perfect for a boy, but I’m not sure I’m too crazy about naming a
son Oliver. Maybe the next one. Well, what do you think about
naming your God daughter Whitney?”

“I think it’s incredible,” Whitney whispered. Her
eyes filled with tears and she felt sobs choking her. To have a
family again…

“Don’t get all weepy, honey. I’ll start blubbering,
too. We’ll go to the spa and talk it all over when I get
there.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Whitney said.

“Now, I hope you’re out on the town having a
wonderful time right now. I’m probably pulling you away from the
dance floor with three hot island men lined up and waiting.”

“There are actually five.”

“I figured.” Taylor paused. “Can’t wait to see you
next week. Love you, Whitney.”

“I love you, too.”

Whitney closed her phone and dropped it into her
purse. She was so stunned by Taylor’s news that she forgot about
Chris for a moment. He stood five feet away, politely looking out
at the water. She knew he probably overheard everything she said.
Not that it mattered.

She took several deep calming breaths. There was
entirely too much excitement in her life right now and her emotions
were dangerously exposed on the surface. She didn’t trust herself
to talk to Chris any more tonight, or to do anything else with him.
Decisions right now were probably the kind she would regret in the
morning.

It was a totally unusual feeling for Whitney.
Vulnerability. And she wanted to run. She found the keys to her
Jeep in her purse and swallowed hard.

“Everything okay?” Chris asked.

Whitney nodded. “Yes. Thanks for asking. And thanks
for listening tonight.”

He nodded. “That sounds like the night’s over.” He
didn’t make a move to close the distance between them.

“It’s getting late, and I have a lot of work to do
tomorrow. I’m going to head home,” she said.

He paused and she wondered if he was going to say
anything at all. Finally, he asked, “Would you like me to walk you
to your car?”

“I can practically see it from here, but thanks.”
She hesitated. She thought he might ask her out again or at least
ask her to call him. But he didn’t. He stood stock still, both
hands on the railing.

“Goodnight, Chris,” she said. She turned and walked
toward the city lot downtown as quickly as she could.

With each step, she left behind one piece of the
sparkling day she spent with Chris.

Chapter Nine

Chris didn’t think his headache could get a whole
lot worse. He finally got to sleep at almost three a.m. this
morning, after parting with Whitney downtown. The mixed signals
coming off Whitney confounded him. The night went really well until
Taylor called and he had to listen to her get all gushy just
talking to him. The final “I love you” before she hung up was the
last straw. He needed to keep his head in the game and remember
that he was just stalling her off to save his company.

Right now, she was costing him sleep. But if he
didn’t get his butt in gear, he might lose more than that. If he
couldn’t get Whitney off his mind, he could at least get her and
her insurance fraud threats off his back. It was already eight
o’clock. Time to get started. The shingles and new screen door to
fix the last of the damage from Hurricane Destiny on his friend
Ella’s flower shop were finally in stock. It was a one-hour job he
could check off his list before settling in for an all-out drive at
East Pointe.

“Why, Mr. Maxwell,” Rick drawled sardonically as
Chris pushed open the door of his office. Rick was already sitting
in the chair on the visitor side of Chris’ desk looking through
some work orders and invoices. “Glad you could make it in today,
boss.”

“You’re lucky I owe you about a dozen favors,
Rick.”

“Including, but not limited to, the coffee and
aspirin waiting for you on your desk.”

“How did you know…” growled Chris.

“A man living a double life and sleeping with the
enemy needs coffee and aspirin.”

“We didn’t sleep together.”

“But from the looks of you, I’d guess you stayed up
all night thinking about it.”

“And it’s hard to picture her as the enemy.”

“Fail to get her work done in eight days and you’ll
find out.”

“About that,” Chris said, pausing to take three
aspirin with a swig of coffee. “I’m officially closing Blue Isle
until after New Year’s.”

Rick threw the folder he had been looking at on the
desk. “Are you crazy?”

“All part of the plan. If we’re closed, it ties her
hands. She’ll have to accept help from a concerned friend because
she’s got a deadline and no contractor in sight.”

“You’re a concerned friend now?”

“Concerned for sure. Friend, well, not sure exactly
what word I’d use to describe myself right now.”

Rick stared hard at Chris for a minute. “I’m
startin’ to think I could use a vacation.”

“Take one. Just don’t go too far. I may need you to
stand in for me with Whitney in case something comes up.”

Rick batted his eyelashes and used a falsetto voice
to say, “Gosh, Chris, I thought you knew I wasn’t that kind of a
girl.”

“Shut up, Rick,” Chris said affably, his blue eyes
crinkling with laughter. “You know what I mean. Like you said, I’m
playing a dangerous game.”

“No kidding. Messing around with a girl who’s
getting married in a little over a week. A rich girl. Marrying into
a rich family. Are you looking for a broken heart and a bankrupt
business out of this?”

Chris sipped his coffee and leaned back in his
chair. Rick was probably right. He usually was. What would happen
if he spent a whole lot more time with Whitney? Already he didn’t
want her to go back to Boston. And he sure didn’t want to see her
get married. Maybe the threat to Blue Isle was the least of his
problems. But right now it was a problem he had to solve.

“Bear with me, Rick. Right now I can’t show my face
as the owner of Blue Isle Construction.”

“Or what?”

“Good question. I think it means all hell will break
loose.”

Rick chuckled. “Guess that means I get to pretend I
own a thriving, yet strangely unprofitable, construction company.
My daughter will be so proud.”

“Some days, I’d like to give it away,” said Chris as
he poured the coffee into a travel mug and grabbed a hardhat off a
peg behind his desk.