Cowboy 12 Pack Read online

  “Thanks.” She slipped the card into her pocket and headed toward the building she was dying to explore. She strolled the plaza, stopping for a moment to admire the incredible fountain and flora before starting across the bridge. True to its origin, the drawbridge spanned the castle moat. However, this castle needed no protection.

  The moat was a rippling whirl of water pushing laughing couples on inflatable rafts around the corner and out of sight. Other guests floated on their backs or swam along with the rushing waves. How clever to have made a moat part of the resort’s water activities.

  Stepping inside, she flashed her gaze around, wanting to look everywhere at once. There was so much to take in. A sweeping grand staircase leading to an open mezzanine dominated the lobby. Its brass and tropical woods gleamed under the lighting. A convenience store was tucked under one side of the staircase and, from what she could observe from the hall, was stocked with the usual forgotten items such as toothpaste, magazines, suntan supplies, and a display of condoms that didn’t even begin to look subtle.

  There was a line at the registration desk. Since she had to wait anyway, she wandered over to the clothing store, aptly named Sand and Surf. Inside were racks of brightly colored tropical shirts, shorts, bikinis, flip-flops, and any other attire one might need while visiting.

  A florescent orange bikini drew her. She lifted it from the rack.

  “Lovely, isn’t it? We just got that in this morning.”

  Natalie turned toward the husky, sexy female voice. A beautiful woman with shoulder-length blonde hair greeted her from across the store. Even from this distance, Natalie could see the clerk’s vivid blue eyes. She wore a white sleeveless blouse with The Sand Castle embroidered across her left breast. The shirt tied at the waist, where a pink and orange sarong circled a cut-in waist and wrapped around slender hips. On her feet, she wore matching sandals.

  “It is. Very.” Natalie moved to the floor length mirror and held the suit up.

  “It would look wonderful with your coloring. Is that your size? I’m afraid it’s the only one like that we have.”

  Natalie checked the size. It was perfect. At any store at home, the price would have made her gasp. Considering the shop’s locale, the price seemed within reason.

  “My size.” She smiled at the woman in the mirror. “I think I have to have this.”

  The woman nodded. “Excellent.” She turned to head toward the counter and stopped. Snapping her fingers, she said, “I’ve got the perfect sarong to go with that. Hold on.”

  She disappeared behind a curtain. Natalie could hear boxes and paper rattling, and then the woman popped back out. “Here it is,” she said, holding up a sarong made of a floral print. The flowers in the design were a match to the suit. “I remembered ordering this and hoped it might be in today’s deliveries. I hadn’t even unpacked it.”

  “I love it,” Natalie said. “You knew I’d buy it, didn’t you?”

  The woman laughed. “How could you not?” She stepped behind the counter to ring up Natalie’s purchases. “Do you want to charge this to your room?”

  “I haven’t even checked in yet,” Natalie said with a shake of her head. “This store just kind of sucked me in.” She pulled her VISA from her wallet and handed it over. “I’m loving this place. Never seen anything like it.”

  “Thank you. We work hard to make sure our guests have a good time. Do you know about the bonfire tonight? What am I saying? Of course you don’t. You haven’t checked in yet. Tonight we are having a little welcome party down at the Beachfront Bar. Bonfire. Live music. Dancing. Some light food. Discount drinks. You should come. It’d be a great way to start your vacation.”

  “Sounds wonderful. I’ll make sure I do. What time do all the activities start?”

  The woman handed Natalie her purchases in a sack. “Music starts at eight. Usually runs to about eleven or midnight. Kind of depends on the crowd.”

  “Appreciate it.” Natalie started to leave then turned back. “I know there has to be a spa here. I really need a mani-pedi if I want to get this vacation off on the right foot.”

  “Gotcha. Hold on and I’ll call.” She lifted a receiver from under the counter and pushed a couple of buttons. “Manuel. This is Scarlett. I’ve got…” She paused to look at the charge ticket. “Natalie Diamond checking in today. She really needs a mani-pedi.” Scarlett winked. “Let me ask her.” She covered the receiver with her palm. “In two hours?”

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  “Right. She’ll see you in two hours.”

  By the time Natalie got back to the lobby to check in, there was only one person in line. As she got into the line, the cowboy from the airport turned from the registration desk. Their gazes met. Natalie’s stomach did a little loop-de-loop as goose bumps popped up on her arms. He smiled, touched the brim of his hat, and walked out.

  “Next.”

  Natalie jerked her face forward and saw one of the desk clerks waving at her. She hurried over.

  “Sorry. I got a little distracted.”

  “Yes, I saw your distraction.” The clerk grinned. “Very nice.”

  “No kidding.” Natalie glanced over her shoulder to see if the cowboy was still in the area, but he was nowhere to be seen. Turning back to the clerk, she said, “I’m Natalie Diamond. I need to check in.”

  After all the paperwork was done, the clerk laid a resort map on the counter. “We are here,” she said, drawing a circle around the castle icon. “Your cabin is number twenty-three. It’s here.” She circled a small building with the number twenty-three on it. “It’s one of our more private cabanas. Very quiet. Very nice. You go through the doors there.” She pointed toward a different exit than the one Natalie had used to enter. She turned away, pulled a key off the board behind her, and turned back. “You’ve been assigned car number ten. Once you get outside, look for a red cart that looks like a Hummer. It’ll have the number ten on the rear fender.”

  “Wait. What? A car?”

  The clerk smiled. “The only transportation on the island are electric cars and bikes. Your cabana comes with a car. I think you’ll enjoy it. Your luggage should be already loaded on it. If not, find Joe. He works in that area, and he’ll load it for you. Joe or one of his guys there will explain how the car operates. Have a wonderful vacation.”

  “Thank you,” Natalie muttered, still thrown off-guard by the red Hummer car comment. When she got outside, as the clerk had said, her luggage was loaded onto the back end of a small golf cart designed to look like a Hummer. Another handsome guy dressed in the Sand Castle Resort uniform hurried up to her.

  “Ms. Diamond?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m Joe. I have your car ready to go. Are you familiar with how to charge these?”

  Actually, she was. Her parents had one in Florida and she’d charged it.

  “I am. Where is the charger located?”

  “When you get to your cabin, look on the post in the parking area. You’ll see the plug-in there. Would you like some help with your luggage?”

  She grinned. “Shorts, bikinis, and sundresses don’t weigh much. I’ll be fine. Thanks.”

  “Okay, then. Don’t hesitate to call if you have any problems. My phone number is on the card clipped to your steering wheel.”

  She climbed into her Hummer and headed off, using the resort map for guidance. Once she left the immediate area around the castle where the parking lots and drives were made of concrete, the roads turned to sand and crushed shell paths like the one she’d been on earlier. She drew in deep breaths of salty air as she flew along toward her home for the next ten days. She could feel tension leaving her muscles.

  The route to her cabana took her past the Beachfront Bar, which was already alive with music and scantily clad patrons. She wasn’t sure what she’d wear tonight, but she felt fairly positive it would be more than a bikini. Regardless of attire, Fun Natalie was definitely hitting that welcome party.

  She passed a number of othe
r individual oceanfront cabanas. She slowed as the cabin numbers reached the twenties, finally turning into the parking space for twenty-three.

  For a minute she sat, stunned. She’d expected a wooden cabin, weathered and small but boy, had she been wrong.

  The bluff exterior of the building was bright with colorful tile inlays, a set of red double doors and a stone terrace that started at the building’s entrance and curved around the corner. The sound of waves crashing on shore confirmed what the clerk had told her. Her cabana was very near the ocean’s edge.

  She slid from the cart and climbed the stairs. After waving her magnetic card in front of the reader, she heard the door lock snick back, and she stepped into a room direct from her best fantasy.

  Modern, plush furniture in bright floral prints dominated a seating area that overlooked a stone terrace through a wall of glass. Vivid striped recliners and a table with matching umbrella dominated the rock porch. Just beyond, the turquoise water of the Caribbean rolled and crashed on the snow-white beach. Strong sun rays lit up the sand granules like a field of tiny diamonds. Fluffy, white clouds floated by in a cerulean blue sky.

  Natalie fell onto the bed with a delighted laugh. Her mother had outdone herself this time.

  Chapter Four

  ‡

  BROCK SCRATCHED HIS five o’clock shadow and grinned as he looked around his cabin. When his siblings had gifted this vacation, he’d anticipated a typical hotel setting. But now, he owed his family a major apology for doubting them. Not only was he not in a hotel room, his home for the next couple of weeks was an impressive, new cabin within throwing distance of the ocean.

  Brightly colored furniture filled the living room but didn’t obstruct the view. The bedroom housed a king-sized, four-poster bed that faced another wall of glass that showcased the incredible ocean view.

  Of course he’d seen the ocean before, but that had been Gulf Shores, Alabama. The color of the waters of the Gulf of Mexico were no match for the color of the Caribbean. It was like comparing a mule to a thoroughbred racehorse. Both could do the job, but one was a lot prettier.

  His life had mostly been comprised of work. Growing up on a ranch meant he’d learned about hard work from the time he could ride his own horse. But since becoming mother and father to his siblings when he’d been just eighteen, his life had taken on whole new dimensions, such as trying to stretch minimal dollars to keep him and his siblings from losing the ranch, and keeping his brothers out of trouble, which was almost a fulltime job in itself back when they were teens. The luxury surrounding him was as foreign to him as ordering a cappuccino-half-latte-soy instead of coffee.

  He was not easily impressed—but damn. There was no way around it. He was totally impressed by his cabin, his electric loaner car, of the castle, and hell, the whole resort so far. In his wildest fantasies he hadn’t been expecting something like this.

  He smiled. He loved that his three siblings had pulled together to pay for his vacation. For the next ten days he had no responsibilities except to himself, and that felt a little surreal…kind of like this whole place. It’d been so long he since he’d relaxed and played, he hoped he remembered how.

  After he unpacked, he took a long walk on the beach to stretch his legs. Hours on a horse were no problem, but he wasn’t used to being cramped up in a tiny airplane row for hours.

  When he’d begun to pack for the trip, he’d realized his supply of nice shorts and shirts had been, well, non-existent. That had been solved quickly when he took a giddy Lauren to the Crystal Lakes Mall and turned her loose. Now, as he dragged his feet through the wet sand at the ocean’s edge, he sported a crisp pair of khaki shorts and a new polo. He drew the line, however, at her suggestion of tank tops and flip-flops. By the sparkle in her eyes, he was pretty sure—not positive but pretty sure—she’d been kidding.

  He said a quick prayer that they didn’t burn down the house while he was gone.

  The walk, a shower, and a quick nap took up most of his early evening. At eight-thirty, when he awoke, he remembered the check-in clerk handing him a piece of paper about a beach party tonight. He found the informational flyer on the kitchen bar. He had plenty of time to get there, and it sure beat sitting alone in his cabin.

  Fifteen minutes later he bounded down his steps and stopped alongside the Model-T electric car the resort had provided. He’d noted the bar today on his drive down to this cabin, and he debated walking there. It had to be less than a mile. In the end, he opted to drive. No reason to get clean only to get sweaty again when he didn’t have to.

  The music was loud and reverberating off the water as he drove up to the welcome party. At least a hundred guests mingled in the outdoor bar, spilling onto the beach. A full silver moon and galaxy of stars glistened on the waves that continued their assault on the sand.

  And women. Maybe it’d just been too long since he’d been on a date, but everywhere he looked there was a beautiful woman.

  Then one woman in particular sent his heart into overdrive. Seated at a table across the open-air room, she was in profile, but he remembered her from the Memphis airport and from check-in earlier. How could he miss her thick blonde hair spilling over her shoulders and down her back in waves? And her legs. Good lord. They went on for miles.

  He made his way across the room, digging through his mental archives for a killer opening line. It’d been too long, and his mind was a blank slate. As he neared, he could see the smile twitching on her lips. Then he noticed she was stabilizing her cellphone on the table and had it directed toward a male dancer dressed in a black Speedo and a Hawaiian shirt that had been left open, exposing a couple of gold chains around his neck.

  He bent to speak directly into her ear. “He just doesn’t look like your style.”

  She jerked back, pummeling his nose with the back of her head. “Oh! Ouch,” she said, rubbing her head. An attractive pink tinge colored her cheeks. “I hope I didn’t break your nose.”

  Worst opening line ever. Maybe his siblings were right. He did need to get out more.

  He rubbed this throbbing nose. “Not broken. Or at least, I don’t think so.”

  “Um. Maybe you shouldn’t be sneaking up on women you don’t know.”

  He laughed. “We can fix that.” He held out his hand. “Brock Wade.”

  When she took his hand, he realized how soft her fingers were, unlike his, which were callused and rough from the ranch work. He might have held on a little too long after she straightened her fingers to finish the introductory handshake, but his flesh tingled from her touch, and he was reluctant to end the connection.

  “Natalie Diamond.” She smiled. “Are you sure I didn’t break your nose?”

  “I’m sure. I’ve had worse hits from my horse.”

  “So you are a cowboy.”

  He dipped his head with a grin. Indicating the empty chair beside her, he asked, “May I?”

  She shoved the chair out with her foot. “Please do.”

  Sitting, he said, “Got your eye on Mr. Speedo, do you?”

  Her laugh hit him right in his gut with a solid punch. “He’s one of those things you can tell your friends about but without pictures nobody is going to believe you.”

  “Get some good shots?”

  She set her phone on the table, opened the camera app and they scrolled through her quick snaps. She’d caught him in glorious color.

  “I need a copy of those for my sister,” he said. “She needs to see what kind of place she’s sent me to.”

  Natalie snorted. “Forced vacation?”

  “Sort of. Early Christmas present from my brothers and sister. You been here before?”

  She shook her head. “Nope. Christmas present from my parents.”

  “Seems we have a lot in common.”

  “Families forcing us to take vacations for our own good?”

  “Exactly,” he said, more than pleased they were on the same wavelength. “Your glass is empty.” He gestured toward her dry rocks gla
ss on the table. “What are you drinking?”

  “Maker’s Mark bourbon. Neat.”

  He hiked an eyebrow, intrigued now. He was a bourbon drinker, and it was rare that he had a woman to drink it with. Granted, he hadn’t been dating much lately, but when he did, his dates always ordered beer or wine. He usually settled for a beer or wine to accommodate his date, but tonight?

  “I believe I’ll join you. Another?”

  “Please.”

  He waved a harried cocktail waitress over and placed their orders. However, given the crowd, he ordered a double for each of them with a side order of ice. No worrying about ice melting, so they could drink at their leisure.

  While they waited for their drinks, they discussed hometowns—Memphis, Tennessee for her and Crystal Lakes, Arkansas for him. Since he’d been to Memphis a time or two, they compared favorite restaurants, told some stories of famous person sightings there, and debated if the next earthquake would wipe out the Mississippi riverfront.

  The waitress sat a bourbon in front of each of them along with a second glass with only ice. Brock lifted his glass toward Natalie. She picked hers up, and they tapped drinks and resumed their earthquake discussion. As they drained the last drams of bourbon from this round, one of Brock’s favorite Garth Brooks songs started. It was slow and perfect for a first dance with a fascinating woman.

  “Dance?” He held out his hand. His question was met with a broad smile as she slipped her hand into his. That tingle from before started again, a ripple that initiated at their joined hands and rolled up his arm before moving through his entire body.

  They walked from under the bar’s tiki-thatched roof and onto the sand. She kicked off her sandals, leaving them off to the side. He followed her lead, leaving his beside hers. He slipped his arms around her waist while she looped hers around his neck. Holding her snugly against him, he began to move her to the slow tempo of “If Tomorrow Never Comes.”

  He drew in a deep breath, taking in the aroma of vanilla and oranges from the strands of her hair that’d landed under his nose. At six-foot-three-inches, Brock always had to bend deeply to accommodate dancing with most women. But not so with Natalie. Her head rested comfortably on his shoulder, and, for that, his back thanked God.