Protecting Melissa (Holiday Cove 4)

“I wish this boat was bigger,” Chase said, drawing me out of my list of regrets.

“Why?” I grinned. “So it would have a blender?”

He dropped his head back against his chair and laughed out loud. “No! So you could show me your stuff. Your skills.” He waggled his eyebrows and a blast of heat shot through my stomach.

“Aha. Yes, that’s a shame.” I took a drink and nearly choked. “Woah! You weren’t messing around with these!”

Chase laughed again. “Sorry. I guess I did get a little carried away. Want me to go doctor it up?”

I shook my head and took another drink just to prove I wasn’t a total princess. I could hold my liquor. It had just been a long time since I had the opportunity. Having a five-year-old didn’t exactly leave a lot of free time to hit up the bars.

“Actually, though, that reminds me of something,” I said, sputtering after the strong drink burned down my throat.

“What’s that?”

“What do you think about spending a few days in a hotel?”

Chase’s eyes went wide and dark, the effect stealing my breath away.

My stomach churned and it had nothing to do with the tequila.

“Just to have a little more space. Take a proper shower. You know, with water pressure, that kind of thing,” I added with a smile, hurrying to clarify my request.

“Oh, right, yeah. Uhm, that would probably be all right. Just a few days and then we can get on the move.”

“Yeah. Exactly!” A bubble of excitement grew inside me. The idea of spending a few days in a nice hotel suite with a view, room service, and cable TV and internet sounded like heaven after the days on the boat.

And if Chase and I got more alone time, on a balcony overlooking the ocean…so be it.

What could it hurt?

11

Melissa

“This is even more beautiful than I imagined!” I swung around, tearing my eyes from the glorious view from the back patio of our hotel room, to look at Chase, who was hanging back a few paces, watching me take it all in with a satisfied grin on his face. His hands were stuffed inside his pockets and he shrugged his shoulders casually. “This is perfect, Chase. Thank you. Exactly what I needed!”

“You’re welcome.”

Jackson whizzed by—just as excited by the extensive suite as I was—and then darted back out of the main living area before I could stop him. The kid was just running laps around the place. Which was fine with me. It would wear him out, making it easier to get him to bed later that night.

We’d spent the previous night on the boat, but the following day, I’d woken up to find a note attached to the fridge that Chase had left, stating that he’d gone ashore to find us a hotel suite for a couple of nights.

He’d returned half an hour later, bearing fresh, young coconuts with straws and a bag full of sweet bread that smelled like heaven and tasted even better. Over breakfast, he’d told me he’d managed to find us a suite at one of the tourist hotels right on the beach. It hadn’t been easy since the area was pretty well packed. For whatever reasons, I’d imagined something like a tropical themed motel room with tacky wicker furniture, jungle murals on the wall, and questionable cleanliness.

Hey, beggars couldn’t be choosers, right?

However, the reality of the room Chase had booked was closer to a beachside villa. The suite was probably a good thousand square feet with a full kitchen, separate dining and living areas, and two king sized bedrooms with their own bathrooms and a huge back patio that was fenced off for privacy but still gave a breathtaking view of the ocean that was only steps away. Everything was updated, pristine, and beautiful.

I had no idea how he’d managed it—or what it cost. He’d stubbornly refused to let me see the bill.

All I knew was, it was ours for the next two days.

“Are you hungry?” I asked, looping back to a stack of menus laid out like a fan against the kitchen counter. “We could order in.”

“Sure,” Chase said, following me into the kitchen that was large enough that two or three people could work in it without bumping into each other. Whereas the kitchen on the boat was barely bigger than the box my refrigerator back home came packaged in.

Home? I shook my head, rejecting the term. The mansion in the Pacific Palisades was no longer my home.

My gaze snagged on Chase as he stood beside me and popped open the cupboard. Could he be my home? We were locked together for at least the foreseeable future. He was comforting and gave me a sense of calm like home.

“Aha!” He grinned over at me, his eyes dancing with delight.

“What is it?” I leaned around the cupboard door and burst out laughing when I saw what he was so happy about.