The Scandal (Billionaire's Beach Book 4) - Christie Ridgway Page 0,62

work other interests would naturally take precedence. Even before that, their thing might burn out… He sent her a sharper glance.

Maybe in her mind it already had?

The idea put a bad taste in his mouth, so he pushed it away and picked up his coffee cup. Stretching his legs and crossing one ankle over the other, he focused on the perfect weather and the pleasant company while blocking out the unhappy past and the uncertain future.

Yes. Now was enough.

Minutes later, his phone vibrated in his pocket. As he slid it free, Sara began to stack the dishes and clear the table. He tapped Essie on the shoulder and indicated she should help as he took the call.

It was Mick. Mick Hastings.

They hadn’t spoken in a year, since the last anniversary. In the intervening months they’d exchanged a couple of texts, about where they should meet up for the fifteenth. Mick had gotten out of the entertainment business after Felipe’s death, too, and currently lobbied for some interest in D.C.

“All set to visit Malibu?” Joaquin asked him. “The house I told you about is great. My younger sister’s staying with me, and I bought her and her friends some paddle boards. We can take them out, go for some beach runs, take a hike or two in the mountains.” They usually filled their couple of days together with enough physical activity to keep the demons down to a low roar. The nights they passed with booze.

“Joaquin.” Mick hesitated. “I don’t think I’m coming out this year.”

“I…” Sharply disappointed, Joaquin forked a hand through his hair. “You can’t get away from work?”

“No, I’m taking the time off. But I’ve got another trip planned.”

One that’s more important than mourning the death of your best friend? Joaquin wanted to shout. But instead he curled his fingers into a fist and pounded on his thigh. “I understand.”

Mick’s laugh was short. “If only I thought you did.” He hesitated again. “Look, the deal is, I’ve met someone…”

Joaquin’s gaze automatically moved to Sara. She bustled about the kitchen, her moves graceful and efficient. He pictured her on her knees in front of him last night, relived the sensation of her mouth on his cock, and remembered the sweet taste of her cream sliding down his throat.

“…she’s made me see,” Mick continued.

“See what?”

“We don’t close the wounds every year, we just re-open them.”

“That’s not true—”

“It’s true.”

Joaquin closed his eyes, the sunlight now a painful spear instead of a warm balm. Propping his elbow on the table, he rested his head in his free hand. “Fuck, Mick. I don’t know if I can do this without you.”

“Sandra says—”

“Her name is Sandra?” Like his Sara, Joaquin thought, and he looked for her again, noting that she was looking back. What a face. Just gazing at it gave a little bump to his lowering mood.

“Yes, Sandra. Sandra Dunlap. We’re engaged.”

“Congratulations,” Joaquin said automatically.

“It’s why I can’t be in Malibu. We’ve decided to go to Aruba on that date and get married. Start something new so that the end of May can be a happy time.”

Joaquin drew in a breath. “I see.”

“You should try it,” Mick urged.

“Getting married?” Joaquin blinked, released a raw laugh. “I’m not sure that would work for me.”

“Felipe wouldn’t expect you to live half a life.”

But at times Joaquin still felt as if half of him was missing. Instead of saying so, he wished his old buddy the best. What else could he do? “When you’re next in Southern California…”

“I’ll look you up.”

Joaquin ended the call knowing Mick’s last line to be a lie. The other man was moving on, and who could blame him, if he’d found the ability to do so?

Sandra. Good for Mick. Good for her. Good for them both.

He sat back in his chair, closing his eyes again, attempting to recapture his earlier sense of paradise. A breeze brushed by him, and he smelled Sara’s light fragrance on it. Breathing the scent in, he smiled. This morning he’d woken in her sheets and had been aware of that same perfume lingering on his skin.

Opening his eyes, he saw her standing beside him. He shifted in his chair and pulled her into his lap.

She yelped, instantly flustered. “Essie—”

“Anywhere around?”

Glancing over his shoulder, Sara shook her head. “No.”

“Perfect.” He nuzzled the spot where her neck and shoulder met and then nipped at the skin.

She jumped, and when she bounced back down her hip met his burgeoning dick. Groaning, he circled her waist with one arm and