Last Resort: S.I.N. Series Read online

  “Well then.” Callahan scoots his chair back and stands, making sure he remains in control of the situation. “Until next time.”

  “Until next time then.” Solomon stands slowly, deliberately, and nods in goodbye. “Gia told me to tell you hi.”

  Callahan freezes. It’s slight and most likely would go unnoticed to anyone else, but the hitch is there.

  “She said she looks forward to seeing you again while you’re here.” Solomon offers a smarmy expression, almost as if he knows something Callahan doesn’t. But before Callahan can say anything else, Solomon is out the door.

  “Prick,” Callahan mutters under his breath.

  “Gia, huh?” I cross my arms over my chest and lift a brow playfully. “See? I was right. You’re out having torrid love affairs all around the island with mystery women.”

  “I have meetings, Sutton. Dinner meetings. Client meetings. All kinds of fucking meetings that are so damn boring they make my ears want to bleed.” He waves a hand at me as if I’m dismissed. I sit there stunned. What the hell? And why does the mere mention of another woman’s name eat at me? “There are women in some of the meetings. None in others. I don’t really think I have to explain myself to you.”

  “No one said you did,” I say, surprised by his demeanor. That, in and of itself, already has my mind running a million miles an hour to the point where “Gia” and Callahan are already riding away in the sunset and living happily ever after. “I was just—”

  “Yeah. I know.” He stacks his papers up and shoves them under his arm. “I’ve got meetings,” he says without meeting my eyes and walks out without saying another word.

  I stare at the door he just exited and sigh.

  Okaaaay. Perhaps I haven’t been imagining his distance these last few days. Perhaps he regrets his openness from the other night. What had I expected? That we’d be . . . moving forward?

  Is there really anything we would be moving toward?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Sutton

  “No. It’s like we had that great night of kissing, then the weird meeting where he kind of exploded on me, and now . . . Now it’s like we’re in the same spots at the same times but we don’t really see each other.”

  “How is that even possible? You’re supposed to be working together,” Lizzy says.

  “We are . . . but it’s not exactly like we’re talking about anything other than resort matters. He spends a lot of time in his office behind closed doors talking with people back home about the financial aspects, looking at budgets and whatnot. Things I only need to know the end result of. I mean, we’re getting down to a few weeks left so . . . I don’t know. Maybe beyond that, he’s checked out.”

  “I doubt he’s checked out. If he were, he’d be out on the beach with a rum punch in hand like you should more often.”

  “I have one in hand right now. Does that make you happy?” I ask and take a sip of it.

  “So let me see. You’re working side by side without really talking and at night you’re not seeing each other.”

  “Right. At night he’s usually at dinner meetings elsewhere on the island with who knows who.”

  “Ah, so this is the Gia aspect.”

  “Oh my God,” I groan. “I sound like a jealous bitch when I have no right to be jealous. I mean, maybe I played too hard to get so he moved on? Maybe I—”

  “Maybe you need to stop sounding like a needy girlfriend for a second so we can dissect this slowly,” Lizzy says in her no-bullshit voice.

  And this is why I love her.

  “Yes. You’re right. Please, dissect away while I have another sip of my drink.”

  “Sip away.” She chuckles. “So clearly Callahan is a busy man.”

  “Yes.”

  “And you feel like after the other night—the kissing and that’s it—that he’s distanced himself from you.”

  “Either that or I’m overthinking and reading into everything.”

  “Which is highly likely because, hello, we’re females.”

  “True. Yes. I don’t know,” I groan. “It’s like we had this great night where we really got to know each other, to enjoy each other without that tension that makes you feel like you’re constantly on edge. I thought maybe we’d turned a corner and that . . . I don’t know what but—”

  “But you feel it and it’s valid because you feel it,” she says as I give a nod she can’t see. “And he talked about himself in depth, and you talked about yourself in depth and so you both kind of made yourselves vulnerable.”

  “I guess.”

  “So it’s only natural for a guy to pull back and feel like a sap after something like that. At least in my experience.”

  “So that’s good then . . . but . . .”

  “What are you not saying, Sutt?”

  “We kissed, and then we stopped.”

  “Which is what you asked for. So a guy who respected your wishes,” she says like it’s a shocking thing. “Why do you make it sound like it’s a bad thing?”

  I struggle with how to say words that feel perfectly valid in my head but suddenly feel stupid when I put a voice to them. “But why? If he wants me so badly, why stop there? He didn’t even try to talk me into doing more like he has in the past. Is that because he was simply placating me to not hurt my feelings when in reality he’s moved on and is already screwing someone else here?”

  “She said she looks forward to seeing you again while you’re here.”

  Gia.

  The name floats through my brain and I hate that it does. He was so defensive the other day about her. Has he already been screwing her? That would explain why he stopped at kissing me. He’s getting what he wants somewhere else now. With no restrictions. Why can’t I help latching on to that . . . suspicion and not let go?

  “Whoa. Let’s back up some, shall we?” She laughs, completely justifying my own rationalization that I’m crazy.

  “Sorry. It’s been bottled up inside and that’s just making it all worse so—”

  “So that’s why you called me.”

  “Yes.”

  “Personally, I think the man is still into you. I think he’s met his match who won’t drop her panties at the first flash of his pretty smile—well except for that first time of course, but we’re excluding that. And considering how much you’ve cock-teased the hell out of him, I’m rather impressed with his restraint.”

  “I have not cock-teased him,” I say just for good measure. I feel like being around the man is a tease, every minute of every day.

  “You’re so full of shit. Of course, you have with your whole ‘what’s in it for me’ schtick—”

  “It’s not a schtick. It’s—”

  “Valid. Yes, I know.” She sighs. “I agree that it is. I even agree that he needs to understand that by being with him, you’re risking everything . . . but maybe that’s what happened. Maybe so far he’s seen you as Sexy, Siren Sutton who comes on his command, and now after your discussion the other night, after getting to know the real you, he sees you as Sensible, Sweet Sutton with real-life problems, issues, and shock of all shocks, emotions.”

  “He’s the one who finagled his way into living in the same villa with me. He had to have expected we’d have actual conversations during the time we were here. Conversations with words other than which position do you want to try next.”

  “Agreed,” she murmurs. “But he is a guy, a player if we’re guessing right, so other than in the bedroom, I don’t exactly think your needs are high on his priority list.”

  I open my mouth to defend him and then shut it. Why do I feel like maybe they are high on his list, that he does see me as more than sex, when three weeks ago I would have absolutely agreed with her and laughed while I did so?

  “Perhaps,” I finally murmur.

  “I’m just trying to figure him out. The man is intrigued by you for sure. I mean, there has to be more to it than you’re a challenge and that’s it because, let’s be honest, he could snap his fingers and have anyone he wants.”

  “And you don’t think I know that?” I laugh as I push against the ground so my hammock chair twists me weightlessly around.

  “That doesn’t mean you change course, Sutt. It means you stick to your guns.”

  “Clearly you haven’t had sex with him before. He’s a pretty potent drug to resist.”

  “I’m sure he is, but you resisted the other night, right? You kissed and made out and there is something to be said for that in and of itself. The intimacy. The vulnerability. So take that as a small victory and then I say make him keep working for those moments. Make him think of you as a potent drug too. Truth be told, I think he already does.”

  “I disagree.”

  “He’s still coming around, Sutton, when other guys would have been long gone. To be honest, in this short amount of time, he’s brought out a confidence in you that I haven’t seen in forever. There’s something to be said for that. So don’t let this lapse in him taking a step back—in regrouping—deter you. You need to keep that confidence going. You need to tease and flirt and really believe that no matter how good he is, you’re worth more.”

  “Lizzy . . .” She’s right. I know she’s right, and yet I hate this sudden feeling of uncertainty, as if I’m in over my head.

  “Sexual frustration is the best foreplay there is. Make him think about you, daydream about you, be desperate for you.”

  “Isn’t that just playing a game when the end result is a foregone conclusion?”

  “You were already playing the game so what’s the difference? I say it’s more of letting him know your worth.”

  “What happened to Ms. You-Can-Have-Sex-Without-Strings?”

  “She’s still here. It’s still a good option. But that do
esn’t mean he doesn’t have to value the experience.” She falls quiet. “Besides, there’s nothing wrong with cock-teasing the hell out of him while you see how he is with other people there. That’ll be your real judge of whether he’ll guard the secrecy of your sexcapades.”

  I close my eyes and let the breeze tickle over my cheeks as I think about Lizzy and her advice and my desire to sleep with Callahan again. The silence stretches as I mull over everything she’s just said. The truth in it. The truth I need to own.

  “You like him, don’t you,” she says softly.

  I give a half laugh. “I do, Lizzy. More than I expected to and I don’t know if it’s too soon after Clint or just because he’s so different than him . . . but I do and . . .” And I fear Callahan Sharpe has more of a chance of hurting me emotionally than Clint ever did.

  How is that even possible?

  Maybe that’s my hesitation.

  “I know you do. I’ve read it in your texts. I can hear it in your voice. And I want you to hear me when I say to you, there’s nothing wrong with it. Nothing. Sometimes the right people are put in your path when you need them the most. Maybe Callahan is that right person.”

  “You know I feel like an idiot, right? That I’m in like with my one-night rebound stand?”

  “Worse things could happen. Like you like him first and then find out the sex is terrible.” She laughs. “That would be a bummer.”

  “True. Very true.” I emit a long sigh. “So now what? Do I just let go of the whole what’s in it for me thing?” I ask, suddenly feeling stupid and juvenile for even suggesting it to Callahan. I know I panicked and was trying to keep my morality in check.

  “Absolutely not. He needs to answer the question because he needs to think about stuff like that. And honestly, it doesn’t matter if he does or doesn’t figure out the answer. What matters is that you figure it out, Sutton, because it’s a question you should ask yourself of every situation, relationship, anything that you’re in. Even if the answer is simply to feel good.”

  “But—”

  “But nothing,” she scolds. “The answer is probably going to change too, and that’s okay. What you’re looking for one day might be different than what you’re wanting to get out of something two weeks from now. You’re the keeper of that secret answer and the mover of that bar, so it’s no one’s business if you’ve moved it, okay?”

  My head swims with the truth in her words and the desire to find again that confidence I came here with. I let one man take it from me before. I will not let another one do it again simply because I may have given too much information about my past. Is that what’s happening here? Am I hearing Clint’s voice in my ear, goading me, suggesting no other man will want me because of where I come from? Who I am? No. Lizzy’s right. Even if Callahan has moved on, I will not believe it’s because I’m not worthy of his interest. His loss. And if he is still interested? I will keep flirting, because why the hell not?

  “Thank you for the pep talk, the cheerleading, and the advice.”

  “Any time. You know that.” The affection in her voice makes me feel loved. “Do me one favor, though?”

  “Of course. Yes.”

  “Don’t leave that chair you’re swinging in until you figure out the answer to your question and the first rung for that bar to sit at. Remember, it can move at any time and that’s perfectly fine.”

  “Okay.”

  “And then make sure whenever the time comes, when you decide that he’s met that bar, that when you fuck his brains out, you call me and let me know how incredible it was. I need to know when I gloat that I was right.”

  “That’s two favors.”

  I can hear her laugh as she hangs up. The smile on my lips remains for some time after as I think about the conversation and her advice.

  Over a month ago I was in a miserable relationship, toeing the line, and not really living life. Now I’m in paradise, working toward a promotion, and am attracted to a man I’d be crazy not to be attracted to.

  And he’s attracted back.

  Own that, Sutton. Believe it. And let him take some distance if he needs to without thinking the worst of the situation.

  I push the chair again, close my eyes as I sway in the breeze, and take this all in.

  First of all, how is this my life?

  Second, how did this even happen?

  Do one thing for yourself.

  I did and look where that got me. But now I guess I’m moving the bar on that because I’m going to do several things for myself.

  My laugh floats out on the breeze, and I push a little harder on the ground so the hammock twists and rocks.

  It’s definitely okay to keep doing those things for me, even if it means making Callahan work a little harder to earn me.

  He still wants me. Right? Or have I led him on for too long that he’s lost interest?

  I think back over the last few weeks. The laughter and sexual tension definitely outweigh the awkward silences.

  Maybe Lizzy is right. Maybe he just needs a bit of space to adjust to opening up.

  It has to be that.

  I sit and swing, enjoying the sunshine on my face, the ocean breeze all around me, and when I finally decide to go inside, I know the answer to my question.

  I don’t know if Callahan will ever figure it out, but I sure as hell plan on having fun if he tries to.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Callahan

  With my hoodie on and pulled down over my forehead, I keep to my space in the corner of the resort’s gym. The staff trainers mill around waiting for guests to come in and work out, but the last thing I need or want is them training me.

  Or kissing my ass once they realize who I am.

  So I stay to my corner, wiping down the bench and replacing the dumbbells to their correct location after every use. My shoulders ache and my chest muscles burn with the satisfaction of a good workout.

  I pushed myself harder today than normal. Frustrated with a check-in call from Ford where my every move was questioned. Pissed off over Solomon’s mention of Gia the other day. His words were a punch to the gut to remind me of the man I really am. The one who prioritized pussy over family, nameless sex over integrity, and playtime over worktime. It was a blatant reminder that Sutton doesn’t need my shit. She was right to demand more than another night of mindless fucking.

  And then there’s Sutton herself. How I let my guard down the other night when that’s not something I do. Ever. But there I was lying in the bed beside her letting her know about shit I’ve kept locked tight for years.

  Shit that is no one’s business, let alone a woman I’m trying to sleep with.

  And yet I fucking told her a majority of it.

  You’d at least think I’d get laid as a reward. I mean, a man has to have his own lines he draws, right?

  But I didn’t.

  We didn’t.

  And yet, while I’m more than sexually frustrated, there must be something fucking wrong with me when I say the woman can kiss. And can kiss in a way that makes every damn bone in your body want her but be satisfied with not getting more.

  This is becoming a problem.

  A huge fucking problem.

  And not because she’s holding out, but because she’s the only goddamn thing I want. Hell, I was all but propositioned last night after my meeting with a distributor and it held no appeal.

  None.

  I looked at the highly attractive woman with her come-fuck-me eyes and told her I don’t mix business with pleasure.

  The irony.

  Because all I wanted to do was go back to the villa and do just that. But when I got to the villa and walked in, Sutton was sound asleep on the couch. She was sprawled out, mouth open, pajamas askew, hair a mess, and I just stood there and stared at her. Stared and wanted and wondered.

  There was no regret going home to that instead of taking up the offer given by a woman whose name I can’t even remember.

  Sutton has broken my libido.

  Goddamn broken it so that all I want is her.

  How fucking fair is that?

  To want a woman who I don’t deserve but crave nonetheless?

  It’s going to be a long few weeks. Fucking torturous.

  I grab a heavier dumbbell. Anything to push her out of my mind even if for a few fucking minutes.