Sunstroke

Chapter 5: PART ONE

Thirty minutes later, Zack's car was parked in the lot and he was in a luxurious suite with Moroccan décor and the biggest bed he'd ever seen. And then there was the view. When he looked out the window, he saw a long stretch of beach bordering the Gulf, smooth waves rippling the surface of the teal water. There were people on the beach, some sitting, some walking. A young boy ran down the beach with a dog following. And, right below him, he could see others on a patio enjoying drinks and conversation.

He stashed his gear, wondering what to do next. He wasn't used to having time to do nothing. When he had any free time, he spent it deep sea fishing or getting his exercise doing s****l calisthenics with the female of the moment.

Female of the moment. Doesn't that just make me sound like the biggest jackass in the world.

The problem was, in twenty-three, no almost twenty-four years, he hadn't found a woman he cared to spend more than two days with. After all these years, he still had a hard time accepting the fact he'd never been able to get in contact with Bailey George, the only woman who'd captured his heart. And, it seemed, despite the distance of miles and years, had never let it go.

I never should have let her talk me into leaving for Alaska without her. That was a damn f*****g mistake.

Except, at the time, what she'd said had made sense.

"Go to Alaska, Zack. Get settled in the job and in the apartment and then we'll make plans from there."

She somehow forgot to tell him she'd gotten a new cell phone number he couldn't seem to get from anyone. Not even her family. Or that none of their mutual friends seemed to have it. Or that, when he took to letter writing as a last resort, she'd never answer them. Too bad that was before the days of f*******: and all those online places.

Of course, he'd probably be blocked and accused of being a stalker. He'd just missed her so damn much. The apartment Nate had for him was neat and clean, and someone had actually decorated it to give it a homey feel. Every night when he'd gone to bed, he could visualize Bailey in there with him. Of course, visualizing Bailey in bed with him led to other problems that unfortunately he had to take care of himself. Taking himself in hand wasn't nearly as pleasurable.

He was glad the charter service was busy enough he didn't have much time to brood. He flew every assignment Nate threw at him, careful to make sure he got the required hours of sleep in between trips. But hell, he missed Bailey so damn f*****g much. Missed her warm body next to his and her smile in the morning and at the end of the day. Her great sense of humor. Her smarts. And god, he missed her in his bed, sharing off-the-charts s*x with him.

After a while, the pain in his heart subsided to a dull ache, one that he grew so accustomed to it became part of his body. Time passed and, after a while, he just gave up. He'd thought about searching for her online, wondering if she'd finished law school and gotten a job she liked. Or gotten married. Or both. But, deciding he was better off not knowing, he'd made a supreme effort to put her out of his mind.

Yeah, that hadn't worked so well. Twenty-four years after he'd left for Alaska to realize his dream, he still saw her everyplace he looked-in another woman's walk, another woman's smile, another woman's gestures. Sometimes it really drove him nuts that, at his age, he still hadn't gotten over her, a woman who'd written him off without so much as a word of explanation.

Okay, i***t. You can sit up here all day beating your head against the wall, or you can go out and mingle and whatever and try to relax. He'd go downstairs, check out the bar, and see what kind of stuff went on here at the Casa Blanca Resort and Spa.

The patio overlooking the Gulf was also pretty jammed, but Zack managed to grab a small table in one corner. He'd barely settled in his seat before a waitress appeared.

"Welcome to Casa Blanca," she said and handed him a gaily decorated drink menu folder. "We have some drink specials today you might want to check out before you order. On the other side is a list of local craft beers that we stock."

"Yeah?" He flipped the card over.

"And if you wait ten minutes, you'll be in happy hour, and you can have twice as much fun."

Zack laughed. "That's quite a sales pitch."

"Thanks." She grinned at him. "I do my best."

"I think I'll just have a Coors." He handed the card back to her. "Not very adventurous, I know."

"The Coors people might not agree." She made a note on her pad. "Coors it is."

She was back in short order, carrying two frosty bottles and a tall beer glass, also frosted.

"I see you stretched the happy hour wire for me," he joked. "Thanks. And I don't need the glass. Too much of a barbarian, I guess."

"It's okay. We like barbarians here, too. Can I interest you in some bar snacks? Our chef makes some shrimp and chicken bites to die for."

"I think I'll pass for the moment. Save my appetite for dinner."

"You won't be sorry. Our chef is worth his weight in gold. Well, just wave at me when you need another drink."

"Thanks."

Zack lifted one of the bottles of beer and took a long swallow. The icy liquid felt good sliding down his throat. He handle realized how thirsty he was. And since he wasn't flying again for a couple of days, he could afford to indulge. He leaned back in his chair and looked around.

As he'd figured, most of the people were coupled up. However, three tables held groups of women, laughing over their drinks. Zack didn't remember the last time he'd just sat and done nothing. Not since he'd flown off to join his uncle. In Alaska, there was always something to do. That didn't get any better when he moved the company to Atlanta and most of the responsibility fell on his shoulders.

Or maybe it was just that he chose to fill every minute of his time so he wouldn't have a lot left over for thinking. Alaska had been wild and exciting and adventurous, but there was still a hole he couldn't seem to fill. Atlanta was different, but the emptiness was still there. And sometimes he wondered if he'd made a mistake. After all the years with the wide-open spaces in Alaska, the big city was giving him claustrophobia.

He tilted his head back to take another swallow of beer, and a memory flashed across his brain. He and Bailey had been sitting on the floor of the tiny living room in their tiny apartment. The day had been hotter than hell, and the air conditioning wasn't always reliable. He'd picked up cold chicken and beer for dinner, and they were having their own little picnic.

Bailey had picked up her drink, tilted her head back and taken a long, slow swallow. He could see the sexy line of her neck and the flex of her throat muscles as she swallowed. Unable to help himself, he'd leaned over and licked the length of her neck, a slow swipe of his tongue. Bailey shivered at his touch, so he did it again. Before he knew it, he'd put the beer aside and had her flat on her back, her T-shirt off, and he was tasting every bit of her body.

God. She'd tasted like the finest ambrosia, a taste that-

Stop it!

He couldn't keep torturing himself this way. Damn it. After twenty-four years, he should have gotten past this. To distract himself, he shifted his gaze to the interior of the hotel. The doors to the patio were wide open, giving him a clear view of everyone moving around inside. It was almost like a movie set, he thought, with the magnificent architecture, the gorgeous Moroccan wood and wall hangings in the lobby, the people in their resort clothes. If he did nothing else, for three days he could enjoy himself people watching.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of green that jogged a memory. Bailey had loved that shade, a good color for her with her rich auburn hair and creamy complexion. Every time he spotted a woman wearing it, his breath caught, as he wondered if it was her.

The woman had walked into the lobby with someone, and they stopped for a moment to chat. He squinted to give himself a better look. God. She even stood the same way Bailey did. Had the same shade of hair, now pulled up in a ponytail. When she gestured, Zack had to blink his eyes because Bailey did exactly the same thing with her hand when she was talking.

He stared hard at the woman, wondering if he was finally losing his mind. Then she turned in his direction, and he was sure of it. His beer forgotten, he pushed back from the table and made his way into the lobby. This had to be a mistake. It just was not possible. He'd thought so much about her so much he was seeing her in other women. That's what it was. Because there was no way...

"Bailey?" His voice cracked. "Is that you?"

She turned fully in his direction, and he nearly passed out.

"Zack?" Every drop of blood drained from her face. "Oh, my god. Zack?"

Then, in unison, they said, "What are you doing here?"