One Night in Paradise. Maisey Yates
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than their breasts. And that was the look that walked runways. The look that was fashionable, especially in southern California.
And she just didn’t have the look. She had curves. An abundance of them. If any of the chi-chi boutiques had bras with her cup size, they were very often too small around, meant for women who’d gone under the knife to give them what nature had bestowed upon her so liberally. And her stomach was a little bit round, not concave or rippling. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever seen her ribs.
Standing next to the women in her family just made her feel … inadequate. And wide. And short. She’d tried to subsist on cabbage and water like her mother and sister, but frankly, she’d felt like garbage and had decided a long time ago that feeling healthy beat being fifteen pounds lighter.
Of course, that decision didn’t erase a lifetime of insecurity. And that insecurity wasn’t all down to weight, either.
“Great. Glad to be so … easy.”
The door to the plane was standing open, and a staircase had been lowered to the tarmac. Zack stood and waited for her to go in front of him. She passed him without looking, trying not to show the knockout effect the slight scent of his cologne had on her as she moved by him.
“I wouldn’t call you easy,” he said.
She stopped, third stair from the top, and whipped around to look at him. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Not what I meant, either,” he said, his expression overly innocent.
“Yeah. Right. Are you determined to drive me absolutely insane for this whole trip?” She continued down the steps and hopped onto the tarmac, the night air balmy and thick with mist, blowing across her cheeks and leaving its moist handprint behind.
“We are supposed to be a couple.”
“Fair enough.”
She was reluctant to get into the glossy black town car that was parked right by the plane. Because she’d only just gotten Zack-free air, and she didn’t really relish the thought of getting right back into a tight, enclosed space with him.
She needed to be able to breathe. To think. And she couldn’t do it when he was around.
That realization alone reinforced her crazy, spur-of-the-moment decision to move on with her life, and away from Roasted.
The idea made her slightly sick and more than a little bit sad. Roasted had been her life since Zack had hired her on. The day-to-day of it, the constant push to invent more and more goodies, to push the flavor profiles, to push her creativity … there would never be anything else like it.
But she needed to stand on her own feet. To move on with life. She’d gone from her parents to Zack, and while she didn’t feel familial about Zack in any way, he represented comfort and safety. And other stuff that wasn’t comforting or safe. But being with him, like she was, wasn’t pushing her to move forward.
So she was pushing herself. It was uncomfortable, but that was the way it worked. She hoped it would work.
He opened the door to the town car for her and she slid inside, and he came in just behind her. “So, do you and your boyfriends have fights?”
He must know she never had boyfriends. The odd disastrous date that never went past the front door. Emphasis on the odd, since half the men picked her up while she happened to be in the flagship store. And, in her experience, men who picked you up at ten in the morning in coffeehouses were a bit strange.
“How many long-term relationships have I had, Zack?”
“Well, Pete was around a lot until he moved for work.”
“Pete? He was a friend from high school. And I was not his type, if you catch my drift.”
“You weren’t blonde?”
“Or male.”
“Oh.”
“Point being, I haven’t done a lot of long-term.” Any, but whatever. “And if I’m ever going to … move on, go into that phase of life then I need to be less consumed with work.”
A muscled in his jaw ticked. “But you won’t make this kind of money running your own bakery.”
“I know. But I have a decent amount of money. How much do I need? How much do you need?”
There was a pause. Zack’s hand curled into a fist on the leather seat, then relaxed. “More. Just … a bit more.”
“And then you’re never done.”
“But if not for that then what am I working for?”
She swallowed. “A good question. Good and scary. Though I suppose adding a wife will add … something. When you find a new prospect, that is. Did Hannah have an equally efficient and driven sister, by chance?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
She snapped her fingers. “Darn.”
“Don’t lose sleep over it.”
“I won’t be sleeping tonight, anyway. Because you didn’t wake me up on the plane.” She couldn’t resist the jab.
“Because you sleep like a rock and snore like a walrus.”
“Might be why my relationships aren’t long-term,” she said drily. Not that any man had ever heard her snore but she was so not admitting to that.
“I doubt that.”
“Do you?”
His eyes locked with hers and something changed in the air. It seemed to crackle. Like a spark on dry leaves. It was strange. It was breathtaking, and electrifying, and she never wanted it to end.
“Why?” she asked, pressing. Desperate to hear more. A little bit afraid of hearing more, too.
“Because a little bit of snoring wouldn’t deter a man who’d had the pleasure of sharing your bed.”
She sucked in a sharp breath and looked out the window, and into the inky-black jungle. She felt dizzy. She felt … hot.
“Well, thanks,” she said.
He chuckled, low and rich like the best chocolate ganache. Just as bad for her to indulge in as the naughty treat, too. “You seem uncomfortable with the compliment.”
“You and I don’t talk about things like that.”
“Only because it hadn’t come up.”
“Do you snore?” she asked.
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“Then your lack of long-term relationships doesn’t really make sense at all.”
He arched one dark brow. “Was that a compliment?”
“More a commentary on the transient nature of your love life.”
“I’m wounded.”
She winced. “Well, maybe in light of all that happened today it wasn’t the best thing to say.”
“You’ve never pulled punches before, don’t start now.”
“I don’t know any other way to be.”
“Now that may account for your own short-term relationships.”
She whipped around to face him and her heart stalled. He was looking at her like she was a particularly interesting treat. One he might like to taste.
The car stopped and she nearly breathed a prayer of thanks out loud. She needed distance. She needed it desperately.
“Well,” Zack said, opening the door. “Time to go and have a look at our honeymoon suite.”
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