Page 7 of Tiny Precious Secrets (The Brothers of Calloway Creek The Montanas #4)

Asher

It’s been a long day. Bug and I got up at six this morning to catch a nine o’clock flight from Orlando to Atlanta, which seems totally counterproductive since our final destination was Antigua, but that’s how the airlines roll.

Then our flight from Atlanta was delayed by two hours, extending our already long layover.

After the four-hour flight to get to the island and then the taxi ride to the resort, Bug is definitely getting on my last nerve and I’m in serious need of an adult beverage.

We check in and make our way to our room.

Along the way, I look around, wondering where Allie is staying.

The resort is huge, so she could be anywhere.

I doubt very much that she—or any of the Montanas—got a room like mine.

I’m sure they’re in the executive or penthouse suites or whatever the swanky rooms are.

We find our room and Bug swipes her key card, drops her shoulder bag near the couch, and beelines to the window. Her shoulders slump a bit and disappointment settles in. “I can’t see the ocean.”

“I think it’s just beyond those trees,” I say, sidling up next to her.

“I had to compromise. It was either a regular room with a view of the ocean, or a suite with a garden view. I thought you’d want your own space.

” I nod to the couch. “It’s a pull out, and my bed is just through there.

” I tip my head in the opposite direction then give her a gentle nudge with my elbow.

“Hope you don’t mind sharing a bathroom. ”

She unzips her suitcase and throws her stuff into the dresser under the television. “Want me to unpack your stuff?”

“What am I, five?” I wink playfully. “Seriously, Bug, we’re here to have fun. You don’t always have to look out for me, you know. That’s my job.”

She shrugs. “It’s no big deal. I like it.”

It is a big deal. I’m not sure if I’m just now realizing it or what.

But she does a lot for me. Like this morning, she got up extra early to make sure we had a good breakfast before our day of travel.

And yesterday, she made a checklist for me so I wouldn’t forget my dress socks and the tie that matches her bridesmaid’s dress.

At thirteen, she should be more worried about forgetting her phone charger than her father’s packing needs.

She plops down on the couch, as if we haven’t been sitting on our asses for ten hours already, and gets out her phone. “Seems like a pretty cool place. Hope the Wi-Fi is good.”

“I’m glad you approve.”

Based on her reaction, I know she might be a little disappointed that we came all this way and don’t even have a view of the water, but she’d never outright say it.

It’s not that I couldn’t afford it—most of this was paid for by travel points anyway—but I’ve never been one to splurge.

Not on a big house, or fancy car, or lavish vacations.

I put away every single penny I can. For the piece of my heart sitting on the couch. For her wedding. For her future.

That’s not to say we don’t live nicely. We do.

While our three-bedroom house doesn’t hold a candle to Montana Manor, it’s not exactly a broken-down shack.

I drive a nice four-year-old convertible.

And Bug has been to the Rocky Mountains, the Grand Canyon, Yellowstone, and just about every beach in Florida.

This is, however, her first time out of the country.

It’s my second. Well, my second actual vacation out of the continental U.S.

I’ve traveled to Mexico, Puerto Rico, and a few other islands for work.

The only other pleasure trip I’ve taken abroad was when Stella and I honeymooned in Australia—a wedding present from her parents and the only time I’ve been away from Bug for more than a week.

Thankfully, my sister and most trusted babysitter was able to stay home with her.

“I thought I’d go check out the resort. Maybe grab a bite to eat. Want to come, or should I bring something back for you?”

She shrugs, tucking her phone into her pocket. “I could eat.”

“Great.” I clap my hands together. “I’m hoping to eat some good conch while I’m here.”

Bug giggles.

“What?”

“It sounded like you said cock.”

I sigh and roll my eyes. “My thirteen-year-old, people.” I put a hand on her shoulder. “Would you please please never say that word again? I know you could never understand this, but as a father, it’s one of the worst things I could hear my daughter say.”

“Fine. I won’t say cock anymore.” She laughs. “I mean after that one.”

I shake my head on our way out the door.

Winding paths lead in every direction. Thankfully, there are also signs posted at every pedestrian intersection.

We stop at one to get our bearings. The beach is to the right.

The pool is to the left. The convention center, spa, and fitness center are straight ahead.

There are names of a few restaurants along with directional arrows toward them as well.

“What do you think?” I ask.

She points. “This place by the pool maybe? Surfside Eats sounds like a good place for conch .”

The way she sounds out the word so it’s most definitely distinguishable from cock , is hilarious.

“Sounds good. Let’s go.”

Surfside Eats is right up our alley. Casual outdoor dining with a great view of the massive pool and bar area.

We order, and I have to keep myself from texting Allie while I’m awaiting that drink.

Because here’s the disappointing part: she knew when my flight was due to arrive.

I’m two hours late, yet she hasn’t inquired as to my whereabouts.

“Your drinks,” the waitress says, placing my double whiskey and Bug’s soda on the table.

“Thank you.”

Bug watches her leave. “She’s pretty.”

I narrow my eyes. Bug never comments on women. Especially not to compliment them. “I suppose.”

“Do you think Charlie is still awake?”

“Probably. I texted Aunt Marti when we landed. She and Charlie and Dallas were out to dinner somewhere off resort property, but she said she’d find us after.”

“I can’t believe Aunt Marti is getting married in two days. Do you think she’s going to have another kid?”

“I don’t know, Bug. After what she went through with Alex, and after what Dallas went through with losing his family, I’m just not sure.”

She sips her soda. “I think one kid is perfect. Don’t you?”

“Yup,” I say without hesitation. I smile. “Especially when that one kid is perfect.”

She smiles back at me.

Our food arrives, and Bug dives right in, biting into a conch fritter as if she hasn’t eaten in days. “Uhmygod,” she mumbles around her food. “These are sooooo good.”

I pop one into my mouth and bite down. Then I stop chewing when I see Allie at the bar. And she’s not alone.

Thank goodness Bug is playing on her phone, because I can’t tear my eyes away from Allie.

She’s so fucking sexy. Her short sundress shows off toned and tanned legs.

Her hair is long and loose, and every so often, it gets caught in a breeze and she has to swipe it off her face.

When she tilts her head to brush it away, I have visions of running my tongue along her slender neck.

She’s eating at the bar. And so is the guy she’s with.

He takes a piece of food off the plate they’re sharing, and every instinct has me wanting to stride over and push him away.

They both break out in laughter. I can’t hear it because I’m too far away, but I can see their bodies shaking jubilantly.

And then… then he touches her shoulder and my blood boils.

It’s a jealousy I’ve never felt in my entire life. Not even when men used to talk to Stella when we were married. I’ve never felt a need to punch a man in the face more than I do at this very moment.

Every laugh they share is a knife to my heart. Every smile, a bullet to my soul.

For sixteen months I haven’t had to deal with this. Every encounter we’ve had was at the hotel in New York City or at Montana Manor in Calloway Creek. I’ve never had an occasion to see her out and about flirting with other men.

She knew I was coming, yet she’s out with this guy. Perhaps even on a date. With a much younger man than me. Maybe the sex videos were too much. A bridge too far. Or maybe this is just what she does when we’re not together.

No matter how much it hurts to watch, I can’t bring myself to turn away.

Bug finally notices where I’m staring. “Oh, great, it’s Hannah Montana.”

“Would you stop calling her that?”

Ever since the two of them met in Calloway Creek the Christmas before last, Bug hasn’t been silent about her aversion to Allie. She calls her Hannah Montana as a dig at our age difference.

“Allie then.” Her eyes roll defiantly. “And wow, that guy she’s with is hot.”

It’s now when I break my gaze and look back at my daughter. “Hot? I thought you weren’t into guys yet.”

“I’m not. That doesn’t mean I don’t know a hot guy from a dud.” She studies Allie. “They look good together, don’t you think? He even looks younger than she is.” She smiles and says a little louder. “You go, girl.”

“What’s gotten into you? I thought you hated her.”

She shrugs. “Maybe it’s the salty air. I just think she looks happy with him. Don’t you think she looks happy?”

I don’t answer. Instead, I eat another fritter, watching Allie flirt with my new enemy.

Since the day we met, I’ve felt connected to her on some surreal level.

As if we were destined to be together. But for months now, I’ve waited and wondered.

When will the day come when she doesn’t meet me in the city because she’s met someone new?

In the back of my mind, I’ve wondered if maybe I’m a placeholder.

The older guy she’s having fun with until she meets Mr. Right.

The good-time guy she passes time with while she’s waiting for the one she really wants.

Fuck . I eat my entire dinner wondering if the three days I’ll be here will be pure hell instead of the heaven I was anticipating.

Then Allie sees me. She smiles and bites her lower lip. But then she looks at Bug and her demeanor changes. It’s only obvious to me because I know every nuance of her face. Her body. Her smile. And that smile fades ever-so-slightly.

She picks her phone up off the counter. Seconds later, I get a text.

Allie: Welcome to Antigua!

How can she be so blasé? She’s eating, giggling, and flirting with another man.

I do something totally juvenile and don’t text back. I just lift my chin and order another drink. But then I get another text.

Allie: Bungalow 4. West end of the property. You know, if you can sneak away.

I don’t know whether to be elated or pissed that she’s expecting sex with me after being on a date with the baby-faced moron. But I’m not about to be a doormat. And I damn well don’t want to share her with anyone. Which means I have no choice but to back away.

I shake my head, knowing tonight will consist of a few more drinks and me licking my wounds like a lame puppy.

It’s the last straw when the guy leans in and kisses her cheek.

He gets up to, I don’t know, take a piss or something, and Allie looks back over.

I can’t hide my disgust. She narrows her eyes.

Then she widens them as she looks from me to the guy walking away.

Her head shakes from side to side, almost violently. She picks her phone back up.

My phone vibrates a few seconds later.

Allie: Asher, that was my cousin, Storm Calloway.

I’ve been on this earth for forty years, yet I’ve never been more fucking relieved than I am in this moment. All the tension in my body fades as I laugh at myself and how horribly I misread the situation. Allie was eating and laughing with her cousin. Not a random man at a tropical resort.

When I look up and we lock eyes, she smiles and laughs at my visible one-eighty. I pinch the bridge of my nose over my adolescent reaction.

Me: Thank the Lord. Because I may have been about to commit murder.

She giggles when she reads it. My attention gets drawn away when little arms wrap around me from behind. “Uncle Asher!”

Charlie is here. Along with my sister and her fiancé. “Hey guys.”

“Heard your flight got delayed,” Dallas says. “You must be exhausted.”

My eyes flash back to Allie for a second. “Yeah, not so much.”

Marti doesn’t miss the brief interaction. “Hey, Bug,” she says, winking at me. “How about you come for a sleepover? Charlie has really missed you.”

“Please, please?” Charlie begs. “Wait until you see. There are bunches of steps down to the beach and there’s even a kitchen. Will you come, Bug?”

Bug looks over at me. “Go ahead,” I say.

Of course I let her go. Because that means I won’t have to do any sneaking at all. I can walk right over to Bungalow 4 and live out my fantasy with the girl who is apparently the woman of my dreams.

Me: Give me thirty minutes.