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Piece by Piece (Riggins Brothers 2)

Page 11

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“Shopping for what?” she asks.

“I need a few things. My stay has been extended.” I have what I need from the resort. However, I have yet to see the numbers. I called my brother Royce and let him know I was extending my stay. He’s so blissfully happy with his fiancée, Sawyer, he simply told me to have a good time. She’s good for him. It’s nice to see him happy again. He deserves it after what his ex did to him. I could have left yesterday like I was scheduled to do, but then I would have been leaving her, and I’m not ready for that just yet. I don’t know what this pull is, but I’m sticking around to find out. Besides, another week here on the white sandy beach isn’t exactly a hardship.

“You’re here on business?” she asks. “I mean, I assumed since I’ve not seen you around before, but I wasn’t sure.”

“Yes.”

“What is it that you do?”

“I’m a CFO. Chief Financial Officer,” I explain. “A friend of mine is looking to buy the hotel, and he asked me to come and check it out.”

“Is the Emerald in trouble?” she asks, surprised.

I nod. “They are. That’s why I’m here as a guest. Trying to see the flow of things, get an idea for the occupancy and amenities.”

“It’s always full. We stay busy year-round. I mean, I know I’m in the restaurant, but the hotel is always busy.”

“I can see that. What I’m not sure of is the reason for the financial hardship.”

“What does that mean, will we be losing our jobs?” she asks hesitantly.

“No. If my friend buys the hotel, it’s for an investment, not to shut it down.”

“Will you tell me if it gets to that? I’ve been here for seven years, and it’s all I’ve ever really known.”

“Your job is safe.” I reach over and give her knee a gentle squeeze, and it’s a mistake. The silky softness of her skin against my fingertips is not something I was prepared for. I know I should remove my hand, but I can’t seem to find the power to do so. Instead, I leave it there and stroke her soft skin with my thumb.

“Okay,” she says softly.

Glancing over, I see her eyes on my hand, and that her breathing is accelerated. She doesn’t ask me to move, nor does she try to move me herself. That’s all the invitation I need. The rest of the drive is quiet, and I’m thankful since all I can think about is getting her under me, wondering if she’s this soft everywhere. My money is on yes.

“I’ve never been here,” she confesses as we pull into the local mall.

“No? Where do you shop?” I ask her.

“Walmart,” she says, her cheeks pinking.

I don’t reply to that. How can I? Her struggles have me choked up. This beautiful, thoughtful woman deserves so much more than the life she’s been given. She meets me at the front of the car, and unable to help myself, I reach out and entwine her fingers with mine. It’s as if now that I’ve touched her soft skin, I need to be in physical contact with her all the time.

“Where to first?” she asks. I can hear the nervousness in her voice. To my surprise, she doesn’t pull away.

“We’ve got all day. You lead the way.”

Her eyes light up. “What do you need?”

“Shorts, shirts, shoes, the basics,” I tell her. In all honesty, I don’t need anything. The hotel has an excellent laundry service, and I’ve taken full advantage of it. I need to check out those services, so why not?

“Here.” She pulls me into American Eagle, and straight to a rack of cargo shorts. She starts sifting through the racks.

“I’ll grab a couple of pairs. Why don’t you go browse?” She hesitates but nods and walks away. I grab two pairs of khaki shorts in my size and stealthily watch her. She picks up a shirt and smiles, holds it to her, and then she looks at the price tag, and the joy that was once present is now diminished. Little does she know this trip is more for her than me. Originally, it was to just buy her a pair of new shoes, but now… now I want to give her everything.

She walks away, a few racks over. I move quickly, grabbing the shirt and placing it under the shorts in my arms. I watch her closely as she does the same thing with a pair of shorts. She digs through the pile to find her size, holds them up, and then shakes her head when she sees the price tag. Those too end up in my arms and under my shorts.

“Hey, are you following me?” she asks, teasing.

“Busted,” I say. No use in denying it. She’s going to find out soon enough.



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