They stopped first at the stable. The storm had indeed blown over quickly, and the sun was peeking out as the first guided ride of the day left the slightly muddy corral at ten. Ryan whistled and ran to chat with the lead guide, greeting the guests as he jogged by, some by name.
Jordan admired his form in the khaki shorts, the blue polo showing off tanned biceps, the material draping over his muscular chest and lean stomach as he turned to talk to the guy on the big spotted horse. His thick hair brushed his shoulders, and Jordan longed to pull it back in a ponytail later so he could grab it while he pounded into Ryan’s ass and whispered his own dirty words into Ryan’s ear.
On the way back, Ryan stopped and helped a blonde girl in pigtails and near tears drag her black and white pony away from the grass at the edge of the corral. He must have given her some quick pointers because the young girl smiled, wiped her damp cheeks and proceeded to kick the pony with her tiny heels until it flung its head and followed the others, disgruntled to have been made to behave.
Ryan didn’t have to take the time. He could have let the guide right behind the little girl handle the situation. But the look of satisfaction and pride on Ryan’s face told Jordan he wouldn’t have it any other way. This was what he did best—guiding, just as he was now trying to guide Jordan.
Jordan understood why Blake had taken Ryan under his wing. A very fine man, Ryan was. Patient, handsome, definitely a good businessman. Excellent lover. Unfortunately, Ryan owned half of an island empire Jordan didn’t want. Selling would hurt Ryan, his livelihood, and the idea of that set him again on uneven footing. He’d never considered that aspect of a sale before, not when most collapsing businesses were grateful for him to take their bleeding investment off their hands. But Ryan…he’d suffer. Somehow, Jordan had to find a way to make this deal work out for both of them. He still didn’t want this damned island.
They entered the small office in the red barn. The young blonde guide from yesterday was behind the desk, typing something on the computer. She looked up when Ryan walked in and smiled. “
Bula
, Mr. Hill. Boss.”
“
Bula
, and call me Jordan.” One thing Jordan liked about the island was the friendliness of the inhabitants. New York was definitely not friendly. But why did he care? Money bought niceness in droves. Or maybe…that’s why he liked the island friendliness. It was genuine.
“How does the day look, Meg?” Ryan rounded the desk to view the monitor, standing way too close to the blonde for Jordan’s tastes.
Ryan smelled way too good, which Jordan didn’t get, since they’d both showered and used the exact same shampoo and soap. Hell, Jordan had used Ryan’s deodorant, too. But Ryan’s scent was intoxicating to his cock, something he shouldn’t even be able to smell in the office of a stinky horse barn. That poor young girl wouldn’t be able to handle the sex appeal and the scent of him. Jordan couldn’t.
But Meg seemed to handle it just fine as she grinned up at Ryan. “Looks good for today. All the rides are full, Toby and Steve are back to work, and the
meke
is all set for tonight. Will you and…Jordan…be attending?”
“I don’t know. I forgot it was Saturday.” Ryan studied the computer screen again, and then picked up a bill from the desk and assessed it, not once looking Jordan’s way.
“You never forget what day it is, but you did have to work extra yesterday. Must have taxed your brain,” Meg teased. “Or did Trigger manage to dump you on your head? He dumped Toby twice Thursday.”
Ryan shot her a cocky grin. “Takes a bit more than Trigger to dump me.”
Meg rolled her eyes and turned to Jordan. Either he was imagining things or she just leaned forward so he could see cleavage. Nice breasts, firm, pointy nipples poking through her shirt, next to the awesome smelling, hard and lean Ryan. He never thought he’d see the day when a hot man won over fine tits, but that day had come.
Meg smiled invitingly and put her hands on her chin. Her elbows squished her tits together harder, making the cleavage impossibly deep, but he kept his eyes glued to her light blue eyes. It wasn’t even a chore. “So are you going to come with us? You can ride Brownie again.”
Meg’s gaze roved Jordan’s body, and her smile said she liked what she saw. “It’s a lot of fun.” The look in her eye changed to one of direct invitation. “I could help you get acquainted with the other guests.”
“Meg,” Ryan warned, his usually expressive face unreadable. “He’s also your boss. Don’t hit on him.”
“Just being friendly,” she muttered but didn’t look the least bit embarrassed to be caught. “I’m surrounded by clueless boys, a hot but gay boss, or clients. You can’t knock me for trying.”
Ryan reached over and tugged her ponytail. “You’re rebounding, you don’t need to try. You need to just chill and wait for the right guy.”
Meg blew out a huff that ruffled her bangs. “I’m going to die on this island, old and alone.”
“I doubt that.” Ryan hid a smile as he picked up a stack of mail and sorted through it.
Meg sighed, easily defeated by the hot but gay boss. “You coming or what, boss number two?”
Jordan smiled apologetically, but there was no way in hell he was going to be surrounded by people when seven o’clock rolled around. “We’ve made other plans, Meg. Sorry. I have to see as much of the island as possible. Ryan’s doing his best, but there’s a lot of ground to cover before Monday.”
Ryan glanced up. Their gazes met over Meg’s head, and his mouth curved into a small smile. His eyes glinted in a way that warmed Jordan’s insides. Yeah, Ryan cared what they did, even if he didn’t show it.
Seven couldn’t come fast enough.
They exited the office into the aisle, and Jordan caught Ryan’s sleeve in his fingertips, wishing he could grab hold of muscle and hot flesh. He didn’t dare, though. “I do want to learn to ride better, though, and see some of the island that way. Can you arrange for us to go out today?” Alone was implied.
Those blue eyes lit with devilment. Ryan took on a pose of deep contemplation, his hand on his chin. “I don’t know…the boss here is a hard-ass.”
Jordan leaned in and whispered, “I have butt loads of money. Lube your boss’s ass with it.”
Ryan laughed, the sound vibrating across Jordan’s skin. “I don’t think money makes good lube.”
“Then we’ll need lube of a different kind,” Jordan murmured. “At seven.”
Ryan’s grin grew. “Let me go check the schedule with Meg.” He went back inside the office.
Jordan was glad Ryan left before he decided to find out if hay was fun or scratchy. He bet it wasn’t the least bit fun to fuck on, and in any case, Ryan didn’t seem to be as horny he was, which was discerning. Cool as a cucumber or whatever they said here on this damned island. Not that he expected to be flung on the desk and fucked in front of Meg, but there wasn’t even a glimmer of lust in his blue eyes, as if he talked about lube and getting fucked at seven every damned day.
Jordan wandered to the corkboard filled with notes and pictures from happy guests. There were twenty, all from this year only, and January was only three weeks old. That many people were happy? That many people cared to send a note?
Ryan returned, still smelling way too good. “We’ll ride out at four since Brownie isn’t going on the overnight. First, we’ll go into the village, have coffee, breakfast, and I’ll show you around. Sound good?”
“Excellent.”
Jordan followed as Ryan led the way to his beat up little pick-up truck in faded red. They climbed in and headed down the packed sandy road barely big enough for one vehicle, never mind two. Ryan started explaining about the island set-up. There was only the resort and the village proper on the other side of the island, inhabited by the employees of the resort and a few old timers.
This side of the island had once been a nature preserve for these little tropical birds that were now extinct. Since the birds were gone, they’d opened up the land and Ryan had purchased it for a song to operate the horse portion of the business.
The village was large enough to meet the needs of the inhabitants, with a small clinic, a school, two churches, and a variety of small businesses that thrived off the tourists. A ferry traveled to Viti Levu twice a day. Sea planes and boats had access to the island as well. Blake had wanted to put in a small airstrip but had put plans on hold because he was sick, but also because a project of that size would be damaging to the island environment.
“Do we own the village? Jesus, I don’t want to be king or mayor or anything official.” The thought terrified Jordan for some unknown reason, which made no sense. He was the head of a multi-billion dollar company. A village was small fries. Maybe because what he owned didn’t have people, just employees. Employees were technically people, he supposed, frowning.
Ryan laughed as he steered around a dip in the road. “We just own the land around the village. It’s self-governing, though we have a say in anything major, since we own the most of the island. So you don’t have to behead anyone or kiss any island princesses.”
Jordan heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank fuck.”
Ryan glanced over at him. “Relax. You just own a hotel. You can deal with owning a hotel, right?”
When Ryan put it that way, his inheritance didn’t sound quite so ominous. Owning a hotel was child’s play. Jordan frowned harder at Ryan, who seemed to be faking a whole truckload of innocent. Actually, Ryan made him sound like a complete asshole for wanting to ditch his share of the island. But this wasn’t his dream, damn it.
Jordan shot Ryan the famed glare that wilted many a man in the boardroom, one that made strong men with balls of steel tremble. “I own many hotels, but it’s more than that and you know it. Don’t go and try to make me feel like an asshole for not wanting to keep the Fijian dream.” He couldn’t say American dream, since they weren’t on native soil. It wasn’t his dream in any language. Period.
Ryan shrugged and cast his arm across the back of the bench seat, his fingertips a breath from Jordan’s shoulder. “It’s just a fancy hotel, Jordan. That’s all it is.”
It didn’t help that all Jordan could think about was Ryan’s hand, his fingers, and where he wanted them. Not on the back of the seat. He shifted, his cock twitching. “And the waterfall? Who owns that?”
“I do.”
Jordan wanted to kiss the smug grin off Ryan’s egotistical face. Why that smug grin would make his dick twitch harder, he had no clue. “Of course. I get a fucking hotel, you get a waterfall.”
“And an extinct volcano, that’s mine, too.”
“You can keep the volcano. When that fucker blows, it will be an insurance nightmare. It had better wait to spew until after I leave, too.”
“If you’re on the island and said fucker blows, you won’t care about lawsuits. You’ll be dead.” Ryan shrugged. “That right there is enough reason to consider keeping your inheritance and living here on the island.”
Where the hell did that come from? Living here? “What? You want me to live here, on the island.”
“No, but when you start being a whiny bitch about my sweet little
Vaka Lailai
, it makes perfect sense. If you’re in New York and she blows, you’ll be in insurance hell. It will be a nightmare you’ll suffer alone because I’ll be toast. If you live here, you’ll be dead, too. It’s hard to sue a dead man.”
Leave it to the lawyer to rationalize his whole life like that. Ryan sounded way too much like Blake at this point for Jordan not to have a fresh wave of grief wash over him. Blake was just as crazy, in a fun way. Jordan fended off the despair, hating the weak feeling that came with the sadness. “The fucking fresh air has done something with your brain, McCale. Seriously.”
“Just sayin’.”
Jordan looked out the window at the palm trees and jungle plants along the sand road. Brownie wouldn’t want to eat any of these. “You don’t want me to sell, which is crazy all on its own. I get it. But you think I should live here, because Krakatoa Jr. might blow? So if I’m here and dead, I won’t get my ass sued to Kingdom Come.”
“That’s it in a coconut shell.” Ryan’s hand went to his own thigh, adjusting his shorts, his fingers resting on the tanned skin of his leg, palm flat. “And her name is
Vaka Lailai
, meaning little.”
Jordan glanced over his shoulder at the volcano looming behind them, green and lush, waiting to ruin his life. He snorted. “Fucking certifiable. There’s nothing little about that expanse of rock and lava.”
“It’s only lava if it spills out. It is magma if it’s inside the volcano, but you can relax. She’s extinct. I promise.”
“Insurance nightmare.” But
if
Jordan lived here, to beat the impending insurance nightmare, he could swim naked every day, too. Make love to Ryan on the beach until doomsday.
Jesus, he was bat-shit crazy. Crazed with lust. Addled by grief. Maybe he was using the lust to hide from the grief. He wasn’t sure. It didn’t sound like him, but what about this weekend was him?
He wasn’t moving here. Period. Grown men did not give up perfectly good lives to reside on volcanic-spawned land surrounded by water and sharks. Where there was little cell service and the people were way too friendly for their own good.
But Jordan’s mind wouldn’t leave it alone. If he lived here, in a few months he’d be tan and able to ride a horse for real. Hell, he might be good enough for Trigger. “All right. I’ll humor the idea. Where would I live?”
Jordan hated that sexy shrug of Ryan’s, how his broad shoulders rolled, how his lips curved into another smug smile. “Wherever you want. The eruption would wipe out the entire island, so you’re free to choose. Blake lived in the hotel. I’m sure you’re staying in his suite.”
Actually, he’d requested a regular room so he didn’t have to face Blake’s space. He wasn’t ready for that. He’d ordered the cleaning service to go in and clean out his fridge but leave it all untouched. He’d deal with that when he was ready.
With a start, Jordan realized he wanted to stay with Ryan, in that big bed that overlooked the most beautiful cove. Way too early for that sort of thinking, but the more he thought about it, the better that option felt.