Second Chance in Paradise Page 20

  Porter looked up from his camera he was placing on the tripod and grimaced. “I hope it didn’t give you second thoughts.”

  That didn’t, but his camera did. His family had nothing on mine. “You will find scientists are extremely stubborn about persevering until they reach a conclusion. But can we talk about that camera?”

  He tilted his head, the sun illuminating him from behind. It looked good against his tan, lean body wearing only swim trunks. I still hadn’t taken off the T-shirt and cutoffs covering my swimsuit.

  “I promise not to film any of our explicit experiments.” His teeth glistened in the glorious rays of the sun.

  I rolled my eyes. “Seeing as we aren’t having any, I’m not worried about that.”

  “A guy can try.” He walked my way and made himself comfortable next to me on my lounge chair. His hand landed on my bare leg. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong, per se. I was just thinking that we don’t know how our story will end, and I’d kind of like to figure it out without being under a microscope.”

  “I thought scientists liked microscopes.”

  “We do, but what if we find out we aren’t compatible anymore? We don’t even live in the same state. I don’t know if our goals line up. I would hate for you to have to delay your campaign because we jumped to a conclusion without getting all the facts first.”

  His hand glided down my smooth leg where he lightly ran his fingers up and down my shin. He was careful not to touch my injured ankle. “I have no doubt we’re still compatible. And I’m not jumping to any conclusions.” He placed his free hand over his heart. “I know in here we’re right. In the end, I hope you do too, but for now I’ll answer any question you have without the camera on.” He gave me an expectant look as if he was ready for me to begin.

  “Okay. Hypothetically speaking, say things do work out between us. You live in California and I have two more years at Winchester. That’s a long time to do a long-distance relationship. And I don’t know where I’ll end up once I receive my doctorate.”

  Suddenly he didn’t look so optimistic. “I know,” he sighed.

  “You like your job there, don’t you?”

  “I do. It’s the first place I’ve ever been taken seriously. I’m respected, and the money is great. You’d love my place. It overlooks the lake.”

  “Sounds nice.”

  “It is.” His gaze turned toward the Gulf. The waves were gently rolling in. Lots of happy beach goers surrounded us, soaking in the rays and playing in the water. Children’s laughter rang in the air along with playful banter from coeds. There were squeals from those brave enough to attempt the cool water this time of year. The sun and warm air were deceiving; they spoke of spring and summer, but the water was just coming out of winter.

  “Do you miss Paradise?”

  He nodded, still taking in the scene around us. “I love it here, but I’ll never live up to my dad’s expectations.”

  “Does that mean you would consider working for your dad and running the Clairborne?” When he was growing up that’s what his dad was grooming him to do.

  He faced me. “It’s complicated, Holland. And it probably doesn’t matter. If the Clairborne survives without having to be sold, my dad will more than likely leave it all to Charlotte anyway.”

  I reached for his hand. “Did he say that?”

  “He didn’t have to.” He squeezed my hand. “Besides, you and I can make it work no matter where we live. And for now, I can fly back once a month to see you, and I hope you’ll come see me. I have a ton of frequent flier miles we can use. Between visits we can talk and Skype every day. And once you know where you’ll land, I can look for a job there.”

  He made it sound so easy even though I knew it would be anything but. And like he’d been thinking about this for a while. All that said, it was hard to ignore the heartbreaking disappointment in his voice.

  “How long can you stay now?”

  “I’ve worked it out to stay until you go back.”

  “They’re okay with you working for your dad while you’re here?”

  He tossed his head side-to-side. “The powers that be at the Bristol weren’t thrilled with it, but since it’s family they made an exception—as long as I don’t use any of their resources or share proprietary information. And I’m still doing work for them while I’m here.”

  “You have a lot on your plate, trying to help everyone here.”

  “I guess I’m good for something.”

  “What can I do to help you?”

  “For starters,” he pulled me to him, “you can take off your clothes so I can see what’s underneath them. Then you can let me bathe you in sunscreen.”

  “How will that help you?” I stuttered. He sure knew how to take my breath away.

  He brushed my lips. “It will remind me that something good will come out of all of this.”

  I leaned my head against his, wanting to help in some other way. Not that I wasn’t looking forward to his hands on my skin, but I wanted him to be happy, and I didn’t think he would truly be happy until things were right with his family. As much as I wanted to help there, I was coming up short with ideas. Give me some DNA analysis and I could predict your future, but this was way out of my league.

  ~*~

  It was not a bad way to spend a day. But I was going to get spoiled. The Clairborne offered beachside service and we were served lunch and fruity frozen drinks throughout the day. I hadn’t eaten this much in, well, ever. Definitely not this well. Porter had ordered a sampler platter with grapes, feta, prosciutto, Kalamata olives, pita bread, and Persian cucumbers.

  Porter worked most of the day under our shared umbrella while I tried to read the cheesy romance novel that Natalie gave me. It was torture. So much so it was a welcome treat when Porter took a few pictures of us together. His camera had a remote. He loved the swimsuit, by the way. I caught him taking a few pictures of me using his phone. One of them became his new background.

  I even got in a small nap. I couldn’t remember the last time I napped. Had I ever?

  My favorite part of the day, though, was sharing in Porter’s work and passion, besides me.

  He set his laptop between us on the wooden side table that connected our lounge chairs. “Hey, I want to show you something.” Excitement ran through his words.

  I gratefully put down the book and focused on the screen. I was immediately drawn to the picture of the couple embracing on the hammock between two palm trees. It was very reminiscent of our spot.

  “What’s this?”

  “The resort’s website is pitifully out of date. This is the new header I’m working on for the homepage. What do you think?”

  I lightly touched the screen, outlining the picture and the Clairborne logo. “It’s gorgeous.”

  I wanted to ask him if our place still existed, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer. Or if I could face it. Our last time there together was seared in my memory. Unfortunately, that time outshined the beautiful ones there.

  “Let me show you the old site and a mockup of the new site so you can compare them.” He clicked on a few things, eager to show me.

  “You design websites?”

  He shrugged. “I dabble in graphic and web design. It helps in my line of work. At the Bristol, we have a web designer on staff so I don’t do much of it other than approve and give direction.”

  The old site popped up on the screen. It was busy and disorganized. I didn’t care for the bright colors. Porter quickly flashed to the new layout. I loved the clean lines and simplicity of it all. The white space was inviting and paired well with the muted shades of blue and green. The header was a perfect crown on top.

  I touched the logo with the double C. “Did you design this too?”

  He grinned. “Do you like it?”

  I nodded. “It’s simple, but I love the use of the negative space. It’s eye-catching.”

  “I have one more thing to show you.”
>
  I loved seeing him so happy.

  He pulled up the new site again, but this time, in beautiful script placed perfectly on the picture of the couple in the hammock, it said, Fall in Love at the Clairborne.

  “It’s perfect.”

  I don’t think he could’ve grinned any wider. He pointed to the screen. “Right here is where I plan to put the videos of each couple. I’ll also run them on the new Facebook page. I’ll use the same header on social media as well, maybe a little variation depending on the size. And if I can convince my dad, I’ll run several email campaigns.”

  “Convince him? Doesn’t everyone do email campaigns?”

  “If you’re smart you do. It’s a captive audience, but my dad says he doesn’t want to clutter people’s inboxes. And he wonders why they’re losing money.”

  “Who’s been doing the Clairborne’s marketing before now?”

  “Some marketing firm in Atlanta that obviously has no idea what they’re doing. Or they just gave up and did what my dad told them to do. I’m not sure. My dad is a great businessman when it comes to finances and organization, but he is not a marketer. I suggested to him that he shouldn’t renew the Clairborne’s contract with the marketing firm. I gave him the names of a few firms that would do a great job if he’s open to change.”

  “Why doesn’t he hire you?”

  Porter spat out a laugh. “You see how he treats me. He’s never going to forgive me for leaving. And I hate being told what to do.”

  “By everyone or by him?” I boldly asked.

  His eyebrows raised, taken aback by the question. “Mostly him,” he sighed. “And it’s not so much that I hate being told what to do; I want to know my opinion is valued, whether or not someone agrees with it.”

  “I can understand that.”

  “I’ve never felt good enough for him. Like I never measured up to who he wanted me to be. My grades were never good enough, I didn’t pick the right college, and my friends were idiots. I got tired of trying so I left. I love this place, but I can’t live my life like that. I’ll help because I at least owe him that, but I can’t keep chasing after his approval. I don’t even know why he asked for my help in the first place.”

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered. It was all I had to offer.

  “You have nothing to be sorry for.” He jumped from his own lounge chair to mine. “Let’s focus on something more pleasant, like our experiments. I think it’s about time for one.”

  “In front of all these people?”

  “It would probably be safer than my parents’ place, but no.”

  My cheeks warmed thinking about this morning. I wasn’t sure how I was going to face his family later. We’d snuck out this morning without saying goodbye. His parents had stayed in their bedroom since the blowup and Charlotte had gone to school.

  “So where?”

  “Is your ankle up for a walk to the wharf? I’m having Fiona put together a picnic dinner for us.”

  I loved that place. We used to sneak away and eat lunch there when we could. “I’m always up for a good science experiment.”

  “Mmm.” He made some guttural sound while closing the gap between us. “Well baby, get ready, because I’m going to light your Bunsen burner.”

  I was laughing so hard I couldn’t kiss him when his lips came in for the kill. “That is the worst line ever. Robert Bunsen would be appalled.”

  “Who’s Robert Bunsen?”

  “He’s the man who designed the Bunsen burner along with Peter Desaga. And he never patented it because he believed you shouldn’t profit off scientific discovery. And he came up with an antidote for arsenic.”

  Porter’s smile said I amused him. “To know even a tiny part of your mind is a beautiful thing.”

  “Now that is a line I could fall for.”

  Chapter Thirty

  We pulled into his parents’ garage late that night. Neither one of us verbally expressed it, but I think we were both hoping to avoid his family after the morning’s embarrassment. That, and like old times, it was so easy to get lost in one another.

  For the first time in our lives, we didn’t have to worry about whether someone would see us. We ate our picnic dinner and watched the boats come in and out of the bay. And we threw in a lot of experimenting. But the part I loved most was lying in his arms while he told me stories of his world travels. His favorite place was Australia, particularly the Gold Coast. He regaled me with stories of surfing and the rain forest. I, in turn, told him all about the deadliest creatures in Australia, from the box jellyfish all the way to the atrax robustus, otherwise known as the Sydney funnel web spider. He was glad he was unaware of all the dangers before he went.

  He kept saying things like, “Someday we should go to Australia. You would love Melbourne for all the history and museums.” Or, “We should go to London. They have the best natural history museum in the world. You would be in heaven.”

  Today I kind of felt like I was already in heaven. And I realized how little I ever dreamed. Porter dreamed big and had goals outside of his career. I’d never allowed myself to imagine anything other than academic and career goals. How odd was it that I never even considered the possibility of traveling? I thought learning about those places or watching National Geographic was enough, or all that I deserved. Porter, like before, was opening my eyes to worlds I never knew or thought about. I think Sharon was right; I should’ve gotten out of the lab more.

  It was late, but we were still wearing big smiles and living off very little sleep when he turned off the truck. I could’ve stayed in that truck forever admiring him from the passenger seat, except my ankle was begging for some ibuprofen and ice. I’d overdone it today, but it was worth it.

  Porter tugged on my hand when I went to open the door. “Let me come around and help you out.”

  I didn’t protest and waited for him. Did I mention he was still shirtless? I was looking forward to getting another close-up encounter.

  He easily lifted me out of his truck. And just as easy, I wrapped my arms around his neck, letting my head rest against his shoulder.

  He kissed the top of my head. “I like this arrangement.”

  “Me too.”

  Not another word was said as he carried me in, but we did speak. The way he held me against him as if he never wanted to let go spoke far more to me than any words. It gave my fingers permission to brush across his taut chest and revel in his dark hair. His skin raised, and he captured my lips. Our mouths danced together until his tongue parted my lips, adding new moves to our tangled waltz. He prodded deeper, causing my fingers to wind through his hair, wanting to get as close to him as I could. Slow and steady, we communicated like that all the way through the dark house.

  We were so into one another we failed to notice a dim light on in the kitchen. There, another dance of sorts was taking place. Porter came to a stop at the kitchen’s entrance. His lips abruptly fell away from mine. I turned to see what had stolen his attention. There in front of us was a magnificent scene like the one we had been enjoying.

  The breakfast bar, counters, and island were filled with vases of white trumpet lilies. In the midst of the floral arrangements stood Mr. and Mrs. Clairborne. Mr. Clairborne held Natalie the way his son held me. He stroked her hair and whispered his apologies.

  “Mi alma. Mi vida.” My soul. My life. He repeated in between the gentle kisses he caressed her face with.

  She fell into him and spoke against his chest. “Mi todo.” My everything.

  Tears pooled in my eyes. I had never seen anything so beautiful. Love grew before my eyes. My gaze drifted back to Porter’s to see his reaction. He, like me, was mesmerized. I think I even detected a hint of a smile. When our eyes met, both sets agreed we should leave the scene undisturbed.

  Part of me felt guilty for watching for even a moment, but I was so happy to see they had made up. More than that, though, it proved that Mr. Clairborne was a man of his word. He promised his wife she would never regret marryi
ng him. There was no doubt by the way she clung to him that she never had, not even for a second.

  I peered into Porter’s eyes as we backed away; they spoke of being able to keep the same promise his dad made many years ago. It both calmed and frightened me, but it didn’t surprise me.

  I was surprised, however, when Natalie called our names.

  “Porter, Holland, you’re home.”

  A look of guilt passed between the two of us. We had not meant to intrude.

  “We just came for some ice and ibuprofen,” Porter informed his mom. “We’ll come back later.”

  “Oh, Holland, are you okay?” Natalie went from lover mode to mother mode.

  My guilt only increased. And now I was forced to make eye contact with Porter’s parents. Mr. Clairborne was doing his best to hide he was annoyed at the interruption. Natalie was smoothing out her hair trying to hide any evidence of intimacy. She also flipped on some more lights.

  “I’m fine,” I tried to reassure her. “My ankle’s a little swollen.”

  Natalie waved at Porter. “Bring her in here and let me have a look.”

  That was unnecessary and awkward, especially after this morning. Now here I was once again in their son’s arms. I was glad I was back in my shorts and shirt. I gave Porter a please-save-me look, but we both knew it was pointless. Natalie wouldn’t take no for an answer. Porter walked us in and set me on one of the stools at the breakfast bar. Natalie hurried around, but not before Mr. Clairborne could catch her hand and bring it up for a kiss. Natalie blushed but looked ever so pleased.

  While Natalie fussed over my ankle, Porter and his father exchanged brief, uneasy glances. If only they could show each other the same affection they possessed for the women in their lives. My heart ached to make it better between the two.

  Porter turned his focus back to me. “I’ll grab an ice pack.”

  “Thank you,” I responded.

  “Honey.” Natalie lifted my leg and rested it on a stool. She lightly touched my injury, inspecting it. “What did you do today?”

  A look flashed between Porter and me that said she probably didn’t want to know, at least most of the details.