Sunkissed (13 page)

“Excuse me. I was just getting another bottle of wine for the table.”

“Uh, Dad—” Trista started.

“Mr. Carmichael—” Riker said at the same time.

“It’s really complicated,” Trista started to explain.

Sam waved them off. “It’s really none of my business.” He opened the wine cooler and selected another bottle of red. “I’ve a got a couple nice Cuban cigars if you’d like to join me on the balcony, son.”

Riker looked at Trista with a hint of fear in his eyes.

“Go ahead.” She pulled a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water. “I’m going to take some aspirin and lie down for a bit.”

Trista watched as her father and Riker left the room. Riker turned and looked at her one last time. He mouthed, “I love you.”

She blew him a kiss.
Riker is right
.
We need to tell Nicolette as soon as we get back from the Keys.

The next morning, Trista found her father in the kitchen holding a coffee mug. He had the newspaper spread across the breakfast table. “Good morning,” she greeted him. “Would you like some more coffee?”

Sam raised his mug. “This is green tea. Another life change the doctor insisted I make. No more caffeine.”

Trista looked concerned as she filled the reservoir with filtered water. “What have you done with my father?”

“Hey, I’m not getting any younger. I need to watch my diet if I’m ever going to live to see you and your sister get married. And give me some grandbabies. Speaking of…” he said, eyeing her warily.

“Where’s Madeline?” Trista asked, cutting him off. She wasn’t ready to discuss Riker. At least not without some caffeine running through her veins.

“She’s taking a walk on the beach. I told her I would make us some breakfast when she got back.”

“She seems like a really nice lady,” Trista commented as she inserted a pod of Jet Fuel in the Keurig. Turning the brew switch to ON, she patiently waited.

“She is a nice lady.” Her dad put down the paper and played with the teabag. “I know this seems sudden, honey. But I really like Madeline. After my health scare—”

“What health scare?”

“Now, it’s no big deal. I had a minor heart attack.”

“What? When? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Like I said, it was no big deal. I’d been having some chest discomfort and pain in my left hand. Madeline and I were having dinner on the cruise, and I started feeling sick. She took me to the ship’s doctor, and he ran an EKG. Said he thought I’d had a heart attack. They immediately airlifted me to the hospital in Greece. I only stayed a couple of days. The cardiologist said it was a myocardial infarction. They inserted a stent. The doctor told me I needed to change my lifestyle, eating habits…well, you know.”

“I can’t believe that I’m just finding out about this. Does Nicolette know?”

“I told her last night. Like I said—”

“I know Dad. It’s no big deal.” Trista sighed. She realized the coffee was done. She generously added a splash of cream. “Well, it’s a big deal to me.”

“I’m fine, really. Madeline has been taking really good care of me.”

“Where did you two meet?”

“I met her the first night of the cruise. We’ve been together since.”

Her father had left Florida three months ago to take a cruise around the world. His best friend from college, Larry, had talked him into going together. Larry was a widower, too. He had heard that cruises were the best way to meet women their age. So they booked themselves on a senior citizens’ European cruise, and visited such exotic ports as Greece, Turkey, France, and Italy. Sam had been reluctant at first, but when he heard there was gambling on cruise, he agreed to go.

“I plan on asking her to marry me.”

“What? Dad, you can’t be serious. You’ve only known each other for three months!”

“At my age, three months is equal to three years. It’s not easy meeting women my age.”

“Are you kidding me? Florida is crawling with older divorcees, Dad.”

“Gold diggers, honey. I’ve been through enough of them to know. They’re all after your money. Madeline is close to my age. And she has her own money.”

Trista blew on her coffee before taking a sip. Her dad was right. There were plenty of gold diggers in the area. She had heard about them firsthand from Riker. Riker’s father had been taken to the cleaners by his last wife. She was twenty-five years younger and on her third marriage. Riker’s father said that she had never walked away from a marriage with anything less than a half million dollars settlement. “Where’s Madeline from?”

“St. Petersburg, Florida.”

“So you’ll live here?”

“Actually we were thinking about settling down in Boca.”

“Boca Raton?”

“The retirement capital of Florida.”

“What about all the business you have here?”

“Your sister can handle it. It’s time I handed the reins over to her anyway.” Her dad peered at her. “Unless you want a piece of it?”

“I don’t know the first thing about real estate investments, Dad.” Trista sipped her coffee. She didn’t have the greatest track record with realtors either. “I do think that’s a great idea, though. Nicolette would be the best choice. With your heart attack, early retirement sounds like a good idea.”

Her dad patted the seat next time him. “Now, tell me about what’s going on with you and James.”

“It’s Riker, Dad.”

“Huh?” her dad asked, confused.

“He likes to go by his last name. Riker. And it’s a long story.”

“We have time.”

Trista sighed. “I met Riker the first night I came back home. I had stopped at the Liar’s Club for a drink. He wasn’t dating Nicolette at the time. As a matter of fact, they had been broken up for several weeks. But you know how Nicolette is.”

“She doesn’t give up easy,” Sam said with a nod. “She’s a chip off the old block, as they say.”

“That’s putting it mildly.” Trista pushed some newspaper out of the way.

“Let me guess. Nicolette doesn’t know about you two.”

“We’ve been waiting for a good time to tell her.” Trista told her dad about her plans to go to the Keys with Riker.

“Take it from me, honey. There’s never a good time when dealing with your sister. Just do it, get it over with. She’ll be okay.”

Trista said, “It’s been twenty years since I came from California to live you. She’s still not over that.”

He reached over and grabbed her hand, giving it a squeeze. “Your sister loves you very much. Yes, she can be a little difficult and act like she doesn’t care about you. But I know otherwise.”

“What are you talking about?”

Sam shifted in his seat. “When you were about seven years old, you came down with the chicken pox.”

Trista nodded. “I remember. Itching from head to toe.”

“Those scratches caused a bad infection. You were in the hospital for about ten days fighting it.” He cleared his throat. “We were all worried sick about you. Especially Nicolette. One night I went to tuck her in, and I found your sister kneeling bedside praying out loud for you. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. She asked me if you were going to die.”

“Dad, that’s very sweet. But it was over twenty years ago.”

“She cares for you, Trista. She always has.”

“She has a crappy way of showing it.”

“When you left for New York, Nicolette was in a funk for months. Unfortunately, she’s a lot like me. She holds a lot inside. She may not show it, but she does care for you. She loves you.”

“She’s not going to care for me when I tell her about Riker.”

Her dad got up and started to fold the newspapers. He paused and patted Trista on the back. “Everything is going to be okay.”

The sliding glass door from the balcony opened, and Madeline walked in holding a large, red bucket. A smile beamed across her face. “Lookie what I got this morning. I can’t believe all the shells and sand dollars I found on my walk.”

“Good morning, Madeline. Would you like some coffee?”

“No thank you, dear. I had some tea with your father earlier.”

“How about a nice hearty breakfast?” Sam offered. He started pulling eggs, bacon, and butter from the refrigerator. “With two of my very special ladies.

Trista couldn’t help but feel love for her Dad. And she knew then that everything was going to be okay.

Little Palm Island was everything that Trista imagined. And more. The only way to get to the five-acre island was by boat or seaplane. It was situated just a few miles offshore near Marathon in the Florida Keys. They parked in a designated parking lot for the boat transportation to the private island. After checking in with guest services, the hostess met them with Gumby Slumber drinks, the island’s specialty cocktail. They took their drinks and boarded
The Truman
, the water shuttle to the island. During the ten-minute boat ride, Riker took Trista’s hand in his own.

“What did you think about The Bar?”

Trista thought about his question. After arriving in the Keys yesterday, Riker had taken her to his friend’s bar. It wasn’t anything spectacular and looked just like any other bar up and down Highway 1. A large tiki hut served as the main bar area, and it overlooked the water. Several wait staff delivered tropical concoctions to guests who wished to dig their feet in the sand and watch the sunset. Despite its lack of originality, the bar was packed with locals and tourists alike. After meeting Riker’s friend and bar owner, Stan Hayes, Trista had excused herself to do some shopping while they talked business. Afterward, she and Riker packed up and headed toward Little Palm Island to spend the night.

“I thought it was a nice place. The tourists seemed to love it,” Trista answered honestly.

“According to the figures that Stan gave me, this place pulls in close to six figures a year.”

“What about expenses? Hurricane insurance? Employee benefits?”

“After expenses, The Bar clears about forty-five grand a year.”

“Not bad,” Trista thought. It was hard enough for restaurants and bars to break even much less make a profit. Although living in the Keys could be expensive, pulling in forty-five grand a year wasn’t too bad.  

“You can swing that?” Trista asked delicately. She never had any discussions with Riker about money or finances. She just assumed that he lived on his bartending income and odd jobs doing construction work. Money differences never bothered her. It was important to her to make her own way in life, and she had always worked hard and saved her money. The last thing she wanted to do was have to depend on someone else to take care of her.

“I have some of my own investments. Remember Club Aqua?”

“That’s your club?”

Riker shrugged. “I’m part owner. Twenty-five percent.”

“I had no idea. What else don’t I know about you?”

“I have a few real estate investments and have been lucky in the stock market. The money I make at the bar is just spending money. I own my house outright. I can make this happen.” Riker took her hand in his. “We can find a place in Key Largo. It’s only a short drive to Miami for you if you have to get to the airport and, for me, a short drive to The Bar.”

Trista stared out at the rushing, white water that was the boat’s wake. She had no idea that Riker had money. Of course, it didn’t change the way she thought about him. Rich, poor, it didn’t matter. She was falling in love with him. “Let’s enjoy our time at the resort. We can talk about everything when we get home. I just want to
not
think for the whole day.”

Riker kissed her on the cheek. “Okay. No more talk about work or money. Let’s just enjoy each other.”

The dock master and an island hostess met them when they stepped off the boat and into paradise. The island hostess introduced herself as Mila, and she escorted them to their private bungalow. On the way, they passed the island’s restaurant, a tropical pool complete with waterfall, the health spa, a human-sized checkerboard game displayed in the sand, and the Zen garden, which had a koi pond, a bridge, and a gazebo.

Trista immediately felt the stress of the last few weeks leave her body as they explored the private island. Finally they arrived at their own little thatched-roof bungalow. Walking inside, Trista took in the cozy living area decorated with a Tommy Bahama theme. A dozen roses, a bottle of chilled champagne, and a tray of chocolate-covered strawberries greeted them on the coffee table. The bedroom held a king-sized bed with romantic netting draped overhead. Tropical-scented candles lit up the room. A bathroom with a claw-foot tub, two separate sinks, and an entrance to the outdoor shower completed the ensemble.

“I think I’m in heaven,” Trista gushed to Riker as he held her hand tightly.

The bellboy came inside and set their luggage down on the floor. “Dinner is served from six to eleven. The spa is open from nine to six. We have all kinds of water sports and fishing. Just see the guide at the kayak stand behind the pool. Anything else?” she asked.

Riker handed a tip to Mila and the bellboy. “We’re all set. Thank you.” He closed the door behind Mila and took Trista in his arms. “Get naked,” he whispered, before kissing her.

Trista could see his erection straining against the fabric of his jeans. Just seeing him excited made her feel the same way.  She eased her dress over her head then slipped off her panties, standing before him naked. He did the same, stepping out of his jeans and underwear and then unbuttoning his shirt. He took her hand and led her over to the couch, where he sat down, pulling her toward him.

“I want you to ease yourself down on me. Show me how much you want me.”

Trista licked her lips as she took his cock in her hand. She moved the head back and forth over her opening, teasing him mercilessly.

“Good God! You’re so fucking wet. I want to taste your sweetness,” Riker growled.

Leaning forward, Trista sank down hard on the entire length of his cock. She sat still for a moment, clenching her muscles.

“Holy shit, babe.” He grabbed a handful of her hair, as she plunged her tongue in his mouth. She lifted her hips, sinking down on him again, harder and harder. His other hand slipped under her bottom, guiding her up and down as she continued to ride him.

“I love the way you feel when you are inside of me.” Trista gripped his shoulder as she continued to grind against him.

“I’m going to come,” Riker moaned as the sensation built for both of them.

“Riker!” She called out his name as she reached a climax of epic proportions. She collapsed on top of him, feeling him shudder beneath her.

“I’d say now is a good time to test out that outdoor shower,” he panted in her ear.

***

The next morning, Trista woke up to the smell of coffee. She opened her eyes to find that she was alone in the cavernous king bed. Her hand felt the warm indention in the covers where Riker had slept beside her all night. Wrapping her nude body in a luxurious robe that Little Palm Island had graciously provided, she wandered into the living area looking for Riker. The room was empty. She opened the front door of the cottage to find him on the front porch. Dressed in boxer shorts—and nothing else—he had an apple in one hand and a knife in the other. She watched as he cut off pieces of the apple and then threw them one by one into the bushes. The sun was just beginning to rise over the Atlantic Ocean.

“What in the world are you doing?” she asked him. He smiled and whispered, “Shhhh. You have to come see this baby.”

Suddenly interested in whatever had her boyfriend all excited about an apple, she walked quietly to his side. Miniature deer, three of them, were standing just below the porch, happily munching on the apple slices. The deer were so close she could’ve reached down and touched them.

“Aren’t these the cutest things you’ve ever seen?” Riker said quietly, throwing out another piece of apple. “The maintenance guy came by here earlier and told me that the Key deer swim over to the island in the middle of night to forage for food. Usually they swim back over to their side of the island by sunrise. As you can see, they’re a little shy.”

Trista wrapped her arms around Riker’s waist as she watched him feed the deer. Yes, they were cute. And so was her boyfriend. “Who are you? And what did you do with my boyfriend?”

“Hey, I have a sensitive side too.” He tossed the last of the apple slices and then the core. The smallest of the three tucked the whole core into its mouth. With the roar of an incoming golf cart, the Key deer scattered into the bushes. One of the maintenance men waved as he drove by.

“They sure do get started early in the morning,” Trista commented as she watched the golf cart zoom by.

“I imagine it takes a lot of people to run this island.”

“Hmmmm. I hate that we have to go back tomorrow.” Trista laid her head against his chest.

“I have a special surprise for you.” He tucked a loose tendril of Trista’s hair behind her ear. “How does some time at the spa sound?”

“Sounds about as delicious as you,” she teased, reaching up to nibble on his ear.

“I booked you a half day starting at ten o’clock this morning.”

“Ahhh. I see. Sending me to the spa is a ruse so you can spend the day fishing?”

He laughed. “You’re on to me. Just a few hours of flats fishing. There’s a guide who the island recommends, and he guarantees a fun time.”

“I can guarantee a fun time if you stay here with me.” She licked her lips and ran her hand down his chest.

“Very tempting.” He gave her butt a hearty slap. “Seriously, I just realized something.”
“What is that?”

“We’ve never been on a proper date.”
Trista thought about that for a moment. “I do have a bad habit of doing things back-ass backwards. Sex first, then dating.”

“After your spa day, I’d like to take you out to dinner. Consider it our first date.”
“Do I have to put out?”
Riker laughed. “It’s optional.”

“Go on, do your fishing thing. We can meet back at the cottage for a little rendezvous before dinner?”

“Deal.”

While Riker took off for his fishing trip, Trista had a few minutes to kill before her spa appointment. She snuck her cell phone out of her luggage and put it in her pocket. She had seen all the signs around the island regarding cell phones: a red circle with an angry red slash through it and NO CELL PHONES ALLOWED. There were also no TV’s in the bungalows or on the island, except for one flat-screen TV in the library that was used during football season. Apparently you couldn’t keep the men away from their sports. She understood the idea of “it’s an island and time for rest and relaxation…leave your worries and cell phones behind” but Trista had seen other people sneaking calls on their cell phones. She desperately needed to check her messages and see if Kate had called.

Walking around the island, she found the Zen garden. It was used for meditations and massage therapy sessions, and was a great place for photographs. They even held small weddings there. If she ever got engaged again, this place, she thought, would be the perfect place for a wedding. Looking around, she saw the garden was empty, save for a few egrets that were eyeing fish in the koi pond.

She turned on her cell phone, not expecting to get much of a signal. To her surprise, she had full bars and a 4G connection. Quickly checking her voicemail, she had several urgent messages from Kate: call ASAP. And she had a message from Quinn, just seeing how things were going. Trista realized she hadn’t spoken to Quinn since she found out about Blake’s marriage—and her new replacement on the show. Waiting for Kate to pick up her call, she nervously paced back and forth.

“Congratulations, kid. You got the job!” Kate greeted her after the fourth ring.

“Are you serious?” Trista yelled out, scaring away the egrets.

“They want you in New York on Friday to sign the contract. Rehearsals start a few weeks after that.”

Trista started to say okay, then she realized that the big play for Blue Mountain Beach Children’s Theatre was on Saturday night, with a matinee on Sunday. She couldn’t miss that and let down all the children she had been working with for weeks.

“I can’t make it Friday. I have obligations this weekend.”

“Trista...” Katie started.

“I’m sorry. I just can’t.” Trista dug her heel in the sand. “Why can’t they send me the contract to sign via email?”

“They can, but the director has a cast meeting set up for Friday morning. I figured we could do everything then.”

“How long do you think the meeting will last?”

Katie sighed. “You never know. A couple hours maybe?”

Trista mentally calculated flight times in her head. If she left tomorrow morning, she could fly out of Miami directly to New York. She would be there bright and early for the cast meetings. Sign the contract. And fly back to Blue Mountain Beach in time for dress rehearsal at six. At the very least, she would miss dress rehearsal, but she would be there for opening night and the matinee on Sunday. She could fly out again later that week to start apartment hunting so she would be settled by the time rehearsals started. She would tell Riker about the new job tonight at dinner. They could still see each on weekends. It could work.

“Trista, are you still there? Is everything okay?”

“I can be there by tomorrow night. I have to leave by Friday afternoon and come back for the weekend. Like I said, I have obligations this weekend that I can’t get out of.” Trista told Kate about the play and her role as director.

“I understand. Just make it work.”

“Okay. See ya tomorrow!”