Shelter In The Tropics. Cara Lockwood
his fire truck backpack, and steered him straight into the lobby and to the dining room, where the dinner buffet was just being set up. She looked at all the food—the simple fish fillets and bright veggies prepared with such loving care by the cooks in the kitchen—and felt a bit of sadness. It was lovely, but couldn’t touch the amazing buffets of the good old days with fresh crab legs and delicate sushi rolls. The scaled-back buffet was a shadow of its former self. She steered Avery to his favorite spot, near the window looking out to the blue-green water, and turned to head back to the food.
She piled on chicken strips and apple slices, and then hesitated at the broccoli, wondering if it would be too much of a fight to get him to eat some. She felt a sudden presence by her elbow.
“Hi, Cate,” came the deep, unmistakably sexy voice. She knew before looking who stood there.
Cate nearly dropped the plate as she whirled away from the buffet. So much for avoiding the man.
“Tack,” she cried, surprised, her heart rate doubling as she took in his tall frame. The man moved like a big cat. She hadn’t even heard him approach. He’d changed and now wore a linen button-down, short-sleeved, pale blue shirt and khaki cargo shorts. His face broke into an easy smile, and she felt her stomach clench as she looked at his clean-shaven tanned face. She’d just seen him earlier that afternoon, but it seemed in that time he’d managed to get sexier, if such a thing was possible.
“Uh...the dining room is closed,” she managed to say, though the gruff way it came out made her want to kick herself. Why was she being so rude?
Tack grinned, and nodded at the buffet and the plate in her hands. “It looks pretty open to me.” He seemed completely unruffled by her, and even worse, he wasn’t leaving. “Mind if I...join you?”
“Uh...I’m eating with my son...” She nodded toward the table where Avery was happily pretending his snack cup was a car, and making it zoom across the table.
“I love kids,” Tack said smoothly. “I don’t want to brag, but I’ve been told I’m the world’s greatest uncle. I might just have a mug that says the same thing.”
He flashed another bright white smile, and all of the excuses as to why she wouldn’t want a handsome stranger to join her rushed from her mind.
She giggled a little, feeling like she was thirteen again and standing by the lockers in front of the cutest boy in school. Get it together, Cate. He’s not interested in you, anyway. You’re not nearly pretty enough for him. Not without all the expensive jewelry and clothes that Rick said made you an “eight” when you were naturally just a “six.”
Tack reached behind her to get a plate, and his strong arm brushed her elbow. She was hyperaware of every movement he made. She realized, suddenly, she was still holding her son’s half-filled plate, watching Tack reach for scalloped potatoes. She decided to leave the broccoli and opted for raw carrots instead, then headed back with a cup of juice to the table, where she plunked the plate in front of her little boy. He went for the chicken fingers first, naturally, and happily chomped his food while she turned back to the buffet. Deliberately, she started on the opposite side as far from Tack as she could get, though it wasn’t long before he was again by her side.
“What do you recommend?” he asked her, dark eyes studying her. Her mouth went a little dry beneath the intensity of his gaze.
“Everything is good,” she said. “But you should try the conch chowder. It’s the island specialty.” She nodded toward the soup bowl on the other side of the glass-partitioned buffet. She thought it would be better if she could move him from her side, but when he walked around, she realized now, he was right in front of her, glass buffet or not, and he was watching her even as he ladled soup into a small bowl. If he was going to study her like that, she might not be able to eat. Her once growling stomach now exploded into a riot of nerves. Why did the man make her so nervous?
She managed to keep her eyes on the broiled fish she scooped onto her plate, then she moved on to the steamed veggies. He watched her every move. She made the mistake of glancing up at him once, and they made eye contact. She held his gaze for a beat too long, unable to break free. It had been so long since a man had been this focused on her.
Not since Rick, she thought.
She glanced down at her own frumpy cutoffs, her faded T-shirt and flip-flops. She wasn’t even wearing any makeup, and she’d swept up her hair into a messy, careless knot at her nape. She had no idea why Tack studied her like he was trying to figure out a puzzle. It made her uneasy.
She hurriedly finished filling her plate and then scurried it back to her son’s table. The faster I eat, the faster I can get away from that man.
Cate sat and Tack followed, slipping into the chair opposite her. His shoulders were enormous, she decided, like a well-muscled wall, sitting in front of her. It was going to take effort to eat with this hulking man sitting at the table.
Avery just grinned at the stranger. “Hi! I’m Avery,” he said, beaming. The boy wasn’t the least bit shy. Raised in a resort, he was more than used to strangers. Mark had joked that they ought to put the boy out in the lobby as a concierge.
“Hi, Avery. I’m Tack.”
“Nice to meet you,” the precocious four-year-old said. He grinned. “You’ve got lots of muscles. Are you Captain America?”
“Avery,” Cate said reprovingly, feeling the blush of embarrassment creep up her neck. The air-conditioning suddenly seemed a little too weak in the room. Leave it to a preschooler to say exactly what’s on his mind.
“He’s in a superhero phase,” she said, apologetically.
“I’m not Captain America,” Tack said, trying to sound serious. “But I used to be a marine, actually. First Lieutenant Thomas Reeves, at your service. I might know a thing or two about saving the day.”
“I knew it! You are a superhero! Can you fly?”
“Oh, now you’ve started it,” Cate said, and Tack chuckled a little.
Over Tack’s shoulder, Cate saw Carol peek out from the door to the kitchen. The woman was spying! When she was caught, she gave Cate a huge thumbs-up, and that’s when Cate knew somehow that this was all Carol’s doing. It would be just like her to try to set her up on some kind of date. Carol was under the misguided impression that Cate was lonely, that she needed a man’s company. Cate had sworn off men. She didn’t trust herself to pick a good one, and she’d never, ever be beholden to one again.
Tack took a sip of soup and nodded his appreciation at the taste of the conch chowder.
“My daddy can fly,” Avery said suddenly. “He’s an angel in heaven.”
Cate nearly spit out her food. Tack coughed, as if the soup had gone down the wrong way. He coughed louder, face turning red as he gave his chest a hard pat.
“Is that right?” he managed to say, recovering.
Now Cate really wanted to be anywhere but here. Carol was still spying, and she sent her what she hoped was a look of stern disapproval.
“I don’t have a dad. Do you want to be my dad?” Avery asked.
“Avery! That’s not...” Cate wanted the ground to open her up and swallow her whole.
Tack laughed a little. “Don’t worry. It’s okay. Well, how about we see first if we can get through dinner, all right, champ?”
Cate had never felt more embarrassed in her whole life. The table sunk into silence then, the only sound the clink of Tack’s spoon on his soup bowl. Tack seemed to be preoccupied, no doubt thinking she was the most desperate woman on earth. She’d not put Avery up to that, though, she swore.
That’s when Cate saw Carol bustle out of the kitchen, seeming determined.
Oh, no. This was not going to be good.
“Everything all right here?” Carol said brightly.