Page 53 of Last Resort

I pick up a beige pair and hold them up. They’re massive and like something my great grandma used to wear over her Depends when I was a kid.

“Full coverage,” he says, interrupting my thoughts.

“What?”

“That’s what’s in it for you. Having your ass covered should someone find out about us.”

My jaw falls lax and then I laugh. That was witty and clever and fitting.

I hate that I kind of love it.

“Noted.”

“But that’s not the answer, is it?” he asks.

“Nope, but it was a pretty damn good take on it.”

“I should get some kind of brownie points for that, don’t you think?”

“Perhaps.”

“Perhaps?” he asks. “About that ransom, then . . .”

“Nope. I’m good.”

“What do you mean you’re good?”

“Exactly like it sounds.” I laugh. “I’m good.”

“What happened to good, old-fashioned negotiations, huh?”

“Sometimes you just have to take matters into your own hands. You’d know all about that with those long, cold showers you seem to be taking. Goodbye, Callahan.”

And then I hang up the phone without saying another word, needing to leave him hanging while I quietly swoon inside.

I chew on the inside of my cheek, my smile so wide my cheeks hurt. A flirting, creative Callahan is drop-your-panties hot.

Then again, I guess he already proved that in his own, unique way.

Game on, Sharpe.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Sutton

“We’re not a cruise ship, Sutton,” Callahan says from where he’s leaning back in his chair, elbows on the arms, fingers steepled.

“I’m more than aware of that, but in my professional opinion, many of these amenities and experiences provide an added value to Ocean’s Edge as a whole. While they may not appear to be ‘high-end,’ they do provide something your guests are seeking and will continue to seek regardless of their income.”

“Continue.” He holds his hands up as if he’s expecting more from me.

“Brady and I have begun working on a comprehensive plan detailing each idea we’d like to begin implementing with the kind of minute details that I’m more than certain will make your eyes roll back in your head.”

“Is that so?” He gives a ghost of a lopsided smirk, and I’m sure the suggestive look in his eyes implies my words—eyes roll back in your head—are making him think of other activities that can cause that.

“Yes. That is so.” I clear my throat and don’t back down from his stare, trying to remain professional in this space when people are milling about in the office just beyond, trying to waste away the remaining minutes of their workday. “Benchmarking reports against comparable resorts on the island. Looking at book patterns, the costs to implement these new options and ideas, their costs versus the return we’d receive and—”

“Yes. You’re right. I’m already bored.” His sigh is heavy. “Give me an example of one of these ideas.”