table along the back wall of the resort conference room and listened to the spiel from a distance. Alice sat in the first row typing up the highlights, which she would email to him afterward, but he preferred to hear the details firsthand.
His gaze strayed through the seated crowd to Cara’s streaked brown hair as she leaned to whisper something in Meredith’s ear. Telling her sister about Keith’s evils, no doubt. Though she’d probably been doing that for two long years. Cara ran a business now. They likely had more pressing matters to discuss besides the callous ass in the back of the room.
Could she really have forgiven him so easily, in a scant few minutes?
He most assuredly had a hundred more pressing matters to occupy him, and yet the conversation in the elevator this morning never fully left his thoughts. How could it? For two years, he’d been convinced Cara had tried to trap him into a marriage he didn’t want.
He’d moved on and had never lost sleep over it. Cara’s expo invite was strictly intended to secure the best wedding industry professionals, not expose him to a newly altered reality. And in that mirror, he did not like his reflection. He’d hurt her. Keith Mitchell did not make mistakes.
Marla wrapped up the status meeting and the participants gathered their handouts and electronic devices, chattering to each other as they swarmed from the room. Keith waited for Cara to pass him and invented an excuse to speak to her, but no less than four people lined up to ask him questions or report a problem. He watched her leave with Meredith, never once glancing in his direction. Clearly, she meant to do exactly as she said—dismiss him from her mind. He wished he could do the same so easily.
This brand-new Cara intrigued the hell out of him. He couldn’t let things lie between them, not with all her revelations. Not with those bare feet still lingering in his mind’s eye. If nothing else, the ledger in his head needed reconciling. While she’d gotten her closure, he hadn’t.
“Excuse me,” he said to Elisabeth DeBolt, the manager of spa services, who had been midsentence in detailing the color of tile she’d selected for the massage rooms. Details he normally encouraged. But not right now.
He left Elisabeth and the others where they stood and followed Cara out the door.
Cara and Meredith hadn’t gone far. They were near the pool, embroiled in what looked to be a fascinating conversation with a maintenance worker’s pecs, which the two women’s eyes never left. The shirtless pool boy blathered on to the sisters as if he didn’t notice, likely used to being ogled by the ladies.
Keith made a mental note to have a word with the recreation manager. This resort would cater to couples, not singles. Shirtless pool boys with the ability to bench-press the equivalent of twice their own weight had their place but not at this property.
As Keith could also bench-press the equivalent of twice his own weight and topped the kid by five inches, Shirtless Pool Boy wisely took off when Keith joined their party.
“Thanks a whole heap, Mitchell. I was enjoying the view,” Meredith grumbled. “No matter how good you look in a suit, I can’t fantasize about you.”
He grinned, his mood considerably lightened. He’d smiled more in the past two days than he had in the past two months. “Why not? Sister code?”
“No, because you’re a cretin.” She tossed her hair. “Unlike some other people I could mention, I don’t forgive so easily. Keep that in mind next time you find yourself in a dark alley.”
Cara’s cheeks went pink. “I’m standing right here.”
“Did I seem confused about that? I wasn’t.” Meredith crossed her arms and glared at Keith. “Watch yourself. I see that look in your eye. I’m the one who held her while she cried over your worthless hide. Don’t you dare break her heart again or the sharks out there will be mysteriously well fed.”
“Still here.” Cara smacked Meredith but she didn’t budge.
They were the same height in their sky-high heels, with the same nose and long, sooty eyelashes, but the similarity ended there. Meredith was a traffic-stopper with her obvious, in-your-face assets, where Cara had a refined beauty that had snared Keith’s attention the moment he’d locked gazes with her across the bar, back in Houston. He hadn’t even noticed Meredith sitting on the next stool when he’d beelined it over to introduce himself and buy Cara a drink.
Keith saluted Meredith. “Yes, ma’am. No dark alleys. No broken hearts.”
“I’m serious, Mitchell.” She stuck V-ed fingers near her eyeballs and flipped them around to stab at Keith. “I’m watching you.”
“Don’t worry your pretty little head about Cara. I’m here to do a job and that’s my sole focus.”
“Uh-huh. And I’m just here for the pool boys.”
With that, she flounced off, leaving him alone with Cara. She wore the same thing she’d had on earlier, which he’d had difficulty fully appreciating in a dark elevator. The lightweight summer skirt and tailored blouse accentuated her curves just as well as the jogging outfit from their pre-dawn run and the outfit’s deep shade of peach naturally led to a desire to take a bite out of the creamy swell of her cleavage.
The outside temperature heated, though he’d have sworn it was a balmy eighty degrees five seconds ago. Learning she wasn’t a liar and manipulator stirred things below the belt in different, unanticipated ways. Coupled with a brand-new entrepreneur’s skin, Cara was suddenly a full package he wanted to rip open with enthusiasm.
She rolled her eyes with amusement. “Meredith has Mama’s flair for melodrama. Among other things.”
“I’ve always liked your sister. You like her, too.”
“I couldn’t do this design business without her.” She glanced at him with a slow sweep that dialed up his awareness of how very much he liked dressed-to-the-nines Cara. “Did you want something?”
Yes, he did. It just wasn’t the same thing he’d wanted when he left the meeting. “How is your ankle?”
“That’s what you chased me down to ask?”
The breeze picked up and flung strands of hair into her face, which he did not hesitate to smooth back. She froze under his fingers. What was he doing? “I’m concerned about you. You’re an integral part of the expo.”
“I’m fine. I doubt I’ll be jogging in the morning. But I’m okay.”
“Now that’s a crying shame.” He’d been looking forward to running side by side with natural Cara, oddly enough. Jogging was supposed to be a solitary sport. That’s why he liked it.
His phone vibrated and as he was still on the job, he pulled it out. And swore.
“Problem?” she asked.
“Potentially. I’ve had my eye on a depression in the Atlantic for a week or so. NOAA just upgraded it to Tropical Storm Mark.” He flashed his phone toward her, showing her the map sent by the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration. “NOAA app.”
“Who has an NOAA app?”
“A consultant hired to turn around a resort located on the leading edge of the Caribbean during
