“Do you?” He knew he sounded harsher than he intended, but his financial woes were a sore spot with him.
Sasha flinched. “Oh…sorry.”
He blew out a breath. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. I know some folks that have been hit really hard, too. Friends.”
Sasha slowly nodded. “I totally understand.”
The waitress stopped by and refilled their beverages. “It’s rough all around. We have to support each other. As my grandmother always said, ‘There but for the grace of God go I.’”
Mitchell studied her for a moment, wanting to believe that her grandmother’s words of wisdom remained fixed in her soul. But what difference did it make? he reasoned. This was all just temporary. They were simply two people sharing some time together on vacation and nothing more. It didn’t matter one way or the other what she thought.
“When was the last time you were here?” Sasha asked as she sipped her juice.
“Hmmm, about three years ago.” He’d come with Regina, when things were good. They’d been so happy. He glanced away for a moment then focused on Sasha. “You mentioned that your parents had a restaurant. What kind?”
“Soul food. Is there any other kind in the South?” she joked. She told him the story of her mother starting off in the kitchen of their home before taking the leap and opening up Carrington’s. “It’s actually more catering than sit-down dining. We have walk-ins that get takeout food. But the majority of our business is catering events. And there’s always something going on in Savannah.” She chuckled.
“It must run in the blood if it’s what you see yourself doing, too.”
“I have my own version.” Her eyes lit up and she leaned closer, resting her arms on the table. “What I want is a small resort, with a full-range of spa facilities for people who want to get their minds and bodies under control. It would offer massages, relaxation techniques, a healthy menu, all in a beautiful environment,” she ended wistfully. “That’s why I’ve been working so hard for the past couple of years. I know I can do this. And now that…”
“That what?”
“Uh, now that I’m almost finished school and have my credit in order I can move toward my dream. If the financial market will cooperate,” she added.
“A grim reality for all of us. Even if you have some funding, the experience and the will, banks are still scared to lend.”
She nodded in agreement. “It makes it harder, but not impossible,” she said with conviction. She looked deep into his eyes. “When you sincerely believe in something or someone, you can’t let anything shake that belief. All any of us need is that vote of confidence, that person that can say ‘I got your back.’” She angled her head to the side. “Know what I mean?”
“Yeah…I think I do.” Watching her as she finished her meal, he began to see her in a new and appealing light. She wasn’t just pretty, with a knockout body, she was thoughtful, ambitious, and she had a sense of loyalty and a level of respect for others. A far cry from Regina, who only thought of herself, her needs and how quickly they could be met.
Sasha pushed her plate aside, sighed and wiped her mouth. “I can’t eat another bite. That was delicious. Now I really do need a swim to work off all this food.”
Mitchell had a flashback of her emerging out of the ocean in that bikini and inadvertently knocked over the balance of his water.
“Oh!” Sasha grabbed a napkin and mopped up the small spill. “Did it get on you?”
“No. I’m good.” He righted the glass. “Getting clumsy in my old age.”
“I think I have you beat on the clumsy thing. I knock something over or bang my knee at least once per week,” she said laughing.
“I find that hard to believe.”
She grinned. “Believe it, and stand clear when I’m around anything liquid or any immoveable objects.”
Mitchell chuckled as he pushed back from his seat then came around to help her up. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He was so close he felt the warmth of her body radiate from her beautiful bare shoulders. The sudden, hard rise in his shorts took him by surprise, and he quickly stepped back before Sasha did in case she bumped into his immovable object. He stuck his hands in his pockets, thankful that his shorts were not form-fitting, and told himself to think about ice cubes. He walked behind her as she led them out.
“I want to make a quick stop in the gift shop,” Sasha said, slowing her steps and turning behind her to look at Mitchell. “I packed everything I could think of besides sunglasses.” She pointed to his pair hooked onto the collar of his T-shirt. “Be right back.” She pushed through the door, setting off the tinkling of wind chimes.
Mitchell drew in a long, deep breath, turning his back to the store. What in the world was wrong with him? She hadn’t given him any indication that she was even remotely interested in him sexually, and yet every time he was within eyesight of her he got a major hard-on. If it was just about sex, he’d simply make his move, knock it out and be on his way. But as much as he tried to tell himself that this was no more than an island fling, he actually liked her.
It wasn’t just her banging body that turned him on. It was everything—her smile, the way she walked, her eyes, how she was thoughtful, funny, smart and determined. All that stacked up to what could be a problem. And that harsh reality was messing with his head.
Sasha walked through the aisles, needing a few minutes to get herself together. She didn’t need sunglasses any more than she needed a tan. But she needed to get some quick space between her and Mitchell so that she could think. As she walked she felt the dampness in her panties that had nothing to do with the island heat. Her clit was hard and throbbing, aching to be touched. When he’d stood behind her to help her out of her seat and she’d inhaled his scent, felt his hands on her arms and his body inches from hers, desire had pooled between her thighs.
If she was a different kind of woman she would ask him to come to her room, strip him naked and jump his bones. And she’d ride him until he put out the fire that continued to rage within her.
“Oh Lawd,” she mumbled, fanning herself.
“Can I help you?”
Sasha spun around, startled by the voice suddenly behind her. “Oh…um, I was looking for…lip gloss.”
“Right up front at the counter.”
“Thank you.” She followed the store clerk to the register, paid for her purchase and stepped back outside.
Mitchell had his back to her but turned at the sound of the chimes. Their gazes connected and seemed to convey the same thing: I want you.
“Find what you were looking for?” he asked.
“Yes, I mean no.” She sputtered a laugh. “Once I got in there I remembered that I’d packed my sunglasses in my carry-on.” She lifted the tube of lip gloss. “Got this instead. So, um, I’m going to dart over to my room and grab my glasses then I’ll be ready to go.”
“Sure. I’ll meet you in front of reservations in the lounge area.”
“Great. Be right back.” She hurried off, leaving him standing in her wake, and went directly to her room.
Once inside she locked the door, went to the bathroom and ran cold water on a washcloth. She stripped out of her panties, dropping them to the floor,