“I will. I’ll work on it this afternoon, but you have to do me a favor,” Zeke replied.
“Whatever you need, buddy.”
“Don’t fight it.”
Elliott knew exactly what the other man meant. “I’m...working on it.”
“No, I mean it.” Zeke stood up to level Elliott with a straight gaze. “You always go for the effortless way out of things. If it’s real, it’s worth doing the tough stuff, even if it hurts.”
“Tough? I’ve been living in a trailer and cleaning up goat shit for her.”
“It can get much tougher than that, my friend. Especially if you want it to be real.”
Elliott turned again to look at her, just at the very moment she spotted him. Her face brightened, and her smile blinded and, damn it, his every nerve cell threatened to fry. Felt real enough.
“It is real,” he said softly, unable to take his eyes off her.
“Not as long as you’re lying to her, it’s not.”
His heart dropped a little. “Look, I’m going to tell her everything, but not until after I call that lawyer and kill the deal. It can’t be pending, she’ll never believe me. I’ll track him down this afternoon and pull the offer that I put in.”
“And then what?”
“Then I’ll tell her and...” He finally turned to Zeke. “Who knows, Einstein? Maybe the Niners will be looking for two replacements.”
Zeke gave him a nudge. “Get ’er done, cowboy.”
Elliott snorted. “I’m no more of a cowboy than you are.”
“But you are a straight shooter. If you want to talk to Burns first, do it, but make it right with her as soon as you can.”
“I will.” And he meant it.
* * *
Frankie’s soaring heart rate had to be her excitement over how well the meeting had gone with the spa manager who’d walked her outside to say goodbye. It simply couldn’t be the sight of Elliott Becker on the pavilion having lunch with his friend, his dark gaze locked on her like she was his one and only target.
Except he’d been looking at her a lot like that lately. And, every time, a thousand butterflies in her stomach made a mockery of her attempts to be cool. But cool had become warm, and warm was fast reaching the boiling point.
She wanted him. The kisses, the touches, the secret looks and sexy words and his poor, pathetic attempt to hide her effect on him in the shower...it had taken every ounce of self-control she’d ever had not to climb in there and finish the job for him and every time he’d taken a shower since then.
She’d been relieved when they’d gone off in different directions this morning, happy to have some time where her head didn’t feel light and her limbs heavy with need.
“I know, it’s amazing.” The comment yanked Frankie back to the moment, and she instantly returned her focus to Jocelyn Palmer, who was still holding and smelling some of the soap samples.
She closed her eyes and inhaled the mimosa and orange bar. “Mimosa Mornings,” she said with a smile. “I just love how you’ve given these such incredible names and tied them all to the island. We could have so much fun with that!”
“I already have,” Frankie said with a laugh.
“We are all about locally grown.” Jocelyn’s dark eyes gleamed with an inner peace and joy that Frankie already admired. “And romance,” she said. “With so many destination weddings booked, I’d love to offer these perfectly named products in welcome gifts and baskets, if you’re ready to ramp up production. Our brides might like them for wedding favors, too.”
“I can be ready. I’m...” Frankie turned to follow Jocelyn’s gaze, not the least bit surprised to see Elliott striding across the deck toward them, a black polo accentuating every muscle, even though it hung loose over casual cargo shorts.
He trotted down a few steps, extending a confident hand to Jocelyn. “You must be the spa manager Frankie was so excited to meet with today. I’m Elliott Becker.”
The other woman’s eyes widened a little, as if she knew the name. Well, he was technically a guest even if he hadn’t spent one night in his villa.
“Hello, Mr. Becker, I’m Jocelyn Palmer.”
“I see you’re crazy about Frankie’s amazing work.”
“We were just talking about the great names they have,” Frankie said, unable to resist leaning into him a little. “Here’s the man to thank, Jocelyn. He’s a genius when it comes to that kind of thing.”
“You have quite a way with words,” Jocelyn agreed, but she kept looking at him, frowning slightly, and then she glanced at Frankie, obviously unsure of the connection.
“He’s been visiting my farm for the last few days,” Frankie said, hoping that would cover it.
“But aren’t you part of the baseball thing? My husband is so thrilled about this—”
“Shhh.” Still smiling, he put his finger over his lips. “We’re really trying to keep it on the down low.”
The baseball thing? Did she mean that the Niners were here? Frankie waited for an explanation, but Jocelyn was already nodding knowingly.
“I understand,” she said. “But it won’t stay quiet for long, not on this little island.”
“We’re trying, though. Are you two finished?” He gave an impatient tug to Frankie’s hand, along with a look that said clearly how much he wanted to be alone with her.
“We were just playing with some ideas for more soap lines,” Jocelyn said, missing the look completely. “Later this year, we have three wedding planners opening up a new bridal consulting firm in the resort, called Barefoot Brides, so we need to really amp up the romantic themes around here.”
Elliott slid a comfortable arm around Frankie. “We can work on some romance,” he teased.
Frankie laughed but couldn’t bring herself to pull away. “I’m sure we can come up with all different themes and lines, Jocelyn.”
“As you know, our resort motto is ‘kick off your shoes and fall in love.’”
“We’ll work on it.” Elliott took a step away, effectively ending the meeting for her, his impatience palpable.
“Wait a second,” Frankie said under her breath, giving him a warning look. He knew how important this meeting was to her, and it wasn’t quite finished. “What’s our next step, Jocelyn?”
“Our next step is the beach,” Elliott replied. “Let’s kick off our shoes and see what happens.”