Trust In Us. AlTonya Washington

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Trust In Us - AlTonya Washington Mills & Boon Kimani

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her shoulder.

      “What’s that look for?”

      It wasn’t in her nature to confide so easily, but the man possessed the most coaxing voice. Aly wondered if he knew that and how often the attribute worked to his advantage. Her guess was quite often.

      “The only reason I agreed to come along on this getaway was because there’s a chance for me to get some real business handled.”

      “Real business, huh? In the Caribbean?” Gage’s rich, dark brows rose.

      The soothing depths of the man’s voice notwithstanding, Alythia had been bursting to share her news. Silently, she reasoned that she could at least count on Gage not to blab to her girls if she told him.

      “I happened upon a business opportunity while I was trying to find a little more info on where we were heading for this trip. I hope to own a chain of boutiques one day.” She shrugged. “Right now there’s only two, but I’m looking to expand. Turns out our resort owner has a shopping village that he’s hoping to cultivate. I’ve convinced him to at least consider giving my shop a chance.”

      Gage put in a fantastic effort to school his expression.

      “We should go check out the place when we land, all right?”

      Alythia was already shaking her head no to Gage’s suggestion. “It’s not necessary and I don’t want to mention it to my friends. They’re still getting over the shock that I agreed to come along.” She folded her arms across the emerald tank that hugged her breasts adoringly.

      “It’d crush Ork to know that my priority is once again business and not taking time out with my girls.”

      Gage’s grimace over the outlook triggered the lone dimple in his cheek. “Time out with friends takes money.”

      “Agreed,” she said with a smirk, “but my friends think the way I earn my money takes up too much time.” She cast a withering look toward the painting then. “Unfortunately, I don’t come from money—” she looked to Orchid “—I’m not model material—” she took note of Myrna “—and I don’t have the nerve to earn my money the way they say Jeena earns hers.”

      “That’s good to hear.” He leaned in close and gave her waist a pat. “And you’re wrong. You’re definitely model material and then some.”

      Alythia felt her lips part, but she really didn’t expect to handle the task of filling her mouth with words. Thankfully, speaking became a moot point when Gage turned once again, offering her his arm and then escorting her toward the dining room area, where everyone else had already gathered.

      Dining room seating consisted of blocky chairs with heavily cushioned seats and backs. A booth seat ran the length of a polished dark oak table and was upholstered in the same embroidered beige silk as the dining chairs and other furnishings.

      The space could seat six comfortably, which mattered little to the betrothed couple. They opted to enjoy the late lunch on the sofa that held position opposite the dining table and ran the length of the entire space. There, Orchid and Jayson lounged in a loving tangle of arms and legs. Every now and then, Orchid would burst into wild laughter over something that her fiancé whispered in her ear.

      Across from the happy couple, other companion selections appeared to have been made. Dane and Myrna had laid claim to the booth seat while Zeke and Jeena engaged in their own private conversation from the cushiony chairs that put them side by side. Across from them, holding court at the other end of the table, were Alythia and Gage.

      “Do you think our travel companions care what’s on the menu?” Gage asked, reclining in the chair he occupied, elbow relaxed along the arm with his hand at his mouth as he spoke.

      The question gave Alythia the chance to observe her friends, something she’d been trying not to do since the game of “choose your lunch partner” had gotten under way several minutes prior.

      “I don’t think it matters,” she managed. Inwardly, Alythia was cringing. Jayson and Orchid’s...demonstrativeness was understandable. The rest was, in Alythia’s opinion, not a good idea. Not that she was in any way against enjoying all the delights a Caribbean getaway was supposed to offer. Only...if someone got the wrong idea and became disappointed, things would not bode well for the feelings of good cheer desired between the bride’s and the groom’s friends. From the looks of things, Aly noted, it didn’t appear that anyone would be disappointed anytime soon.

      From her periphery she could see Gage looking her way. She felt no pressure to make conversation. He was only...looking. She realized that he had a way of doing so that soothed instead of stirred her. Not that his gold-flecked browns didn’t have the power to stir. There was just something about him, some element to his demeanor, that was intensely calming. It was a good thing, too, Aly thought. She was sure to require every calming agent she could summon before the end of the trip. She decided to give that train of thought as little brain time as possible and turned to face Gage fully.

      “Forget them,” she said. “I’m very interested in what’s on the menu.”

      Chuckling softly, Gage pulled away the fist that supported his cheek. “I think you’d rather see it for yourself instead of listening to me trying to describe it.”

      Everyone, in fact, tuned in to the wait staff, who had arrived balancing trays of covered dishes and baskets of golden bread.

      * * *

      The late lunch was sort of a preamble to the kinds of delicacies the group was sure to enjoy during their ten-day Caribbean stay. The travelers dined on catfish, flown in fresh from the Outer Banks of North Carolina that morning, in a succulent white-wine-and-scallion sauce; chilled shrimp with a tangy tomato, orange and lemon glaze drizzle; steamed squash; and zucchini. There was fresh apple butter for the yeast bread and a decadent apple-cinnamon cobbler for dessert.

      Once again private conversations and laughter resumed. The soft talking mingled with the infrequent clinking of silver-and other dinnerware.

      “Tell me about your business.” Gage took advantage of their measure of privacy to ease some of his curiosity about the woman dining to his right.

      Alythia gave a one-shoulder shrug, keeping her light eyes downcast toward the zesty fish. “It’s just a store.”

      His smile was equal parts desire and disappointment. “Why do you do that?” He clenched a fist to resist trailing his fingers along the caramel-toned length of her bare arm.

      Again she shrugged. “I’m guessing that selling clothes would sound pretty silly compared to what you do all day.” Faintly, she acknowledged that she really had no idea what he did all day.

      “I don’t think selling clothes is silly.” Gage allowed mock bewilderment to cross his dark, attractive face. “I can think of at least three people in this room who I have no desire to see without their clothes.”

      Alythia tried to quiet her laughter when Gage fixed pointed looks upon each of his three best friends.

      “Does your laughing mean you’re in the mood to tell me how you got into the clothing business?” he asked.

      Alythia took a moment to observe him then. He’d propped his fist to his cheek again and she wondered whether it was a habitual stance. Whatever the case, it

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