The Trouble With Paradise Read online

  Temper hot.

  Huh. Maybe things weren’t as comfy cozy as they seemed, which was a disturbing thought considering they were in the middle of the ocean.

  Denny stepped onto a platform, and Dorie realized it was some sort of observation deck, and that he could control the boat from right here. Good to know.

  He called Bobby to his side. Bobby tugged on his baseball cap. Whatever Denny said made the three of them look even more tense. Unable to help herself, Dorie shifted closer.

  “The weather could go south,” Denny was saying. “Hard and fast. I want that storm jib checked.”

  “We’re not going to hit bad weather,” Bobby said. “They’ve been calling for this supposedly big storm for days now, and we’ve gotten nothing.”

  “Check the fucking jib.”

  “But—”

  “Look But-Boy, I sign your checks. I can stop signing your checks.”

  Without a word, Bobby turned away.

  Through the large windows, Dorie scanned the horizon but saw no signs of a storm growing. Surely they weren’t in any real danger or Denny would turn back. Right?

  “Care to join us?”

  She turned. The two other women on the boat were seated at the bar, smiling at her. The dark-haired woman wore capris and a blouse open over a tank top. Casual clothes, but worn with a look of easy elegance that spoke of wealth. Dorie recognized it because she’d never looked that way in her life.

  The other woman was Sailing Barbie, who’d been trying to eat off Christian’s face in his office. She wore a different pair of shorts, stark white, with a matching itty-bitty halter that barely contained her, with carefully perfect makeup that couldn’t quite hide a hardened soul. She smiled though, a genuine one actually, as she scooted over to make room for Dorie. “Brandy,” she said, holding out her perfectly manicured hand—with the exception of her thumb nail, which was chewed down to the stub. She caught Dorie looking at it and laughed easily. “That’s my nerve nail. Have a seat.”

  Dorie had no idea why such a gorgeous creature would ever need a nerve nail, but her handshake was warm, and in spite of wanting to hate her for looking like a goddess, Dorie couldn’t. So she sat.

  “Cadence Powers,” the other woman said, and offered her hand as well, which was much smaller, but strong and callous. “We’re just figuring out what we’re going to do with ourselves out here in the middle of heaven on earth.”

  “Whatever we decide,” Brandy said, “I plan to do it prone, while soaking up the sun, with any or all of the onboard stud muffins oiling up my back.”

  “No prone for me,” Cadence said with a shake of her head. “I came for adventures.”

  “Honey, there’s plenty of adventure to be had while prone.” Brandy waggled her brow at Dorie. “We’ve already had two drinks, each, and have jabbered for an hour. Let me put you on the fast track. Cadence here? An artist. In spite of that, she’s practical and pragmatic, and always in a hurry. Has a big problem with a little thing called relaxation.”

  Cadence nodded. “True. And don’t leave out the part where I tend to make bad decisions when it comes to men.”

  Brandy patted Cadence’s arm. “We all do that. Now tell her about me.”

  Cadence considered. “You’re tough and jaded on the outside, but soft and gushy on the inside—”

  “Soft and gushy?” Brandy repeated in shock.

  “A woman with a big heart,” Cadence insisted. “I saw you tip Bobby fifteen bucks just for getting you another drink.”

  “Trying to improve his attitude. He’s in the South Pacific, for God’s sake, and scowling like that. Can you imagine?”

  Cadence smiled. “See? Soft and gushy.” She turned to Dorie. “She’s a dancer in Vegas.”

  Brandy nodded, and Cadence continued, “Oh, and you like to eat bad boys for dessert.”

  Dorie choked out a surprised laugh. She’d seen her doing just that with Christian.

  “It’s a metaphor,” Brandy told her. “Although”—she looked over at the crew—“I’d gladly eat anyone on this boat. Anyone with a penis, that is.”

  Cadence blinked. “You’re also very honest.”

  “Yeah, most people don’t actually find that a bonus.”

  “I do,” Cadence said. “How about it, Dorie? Give us the Cliffs Notes version on you.”

  “Um . . .” Dorie tried to think. “I’ll go with the soft and gushy thing. I’m soft and gushy on the inside and the outside.”

  “What do you do for a living?” Brandy asked.

  “I’m working at Shop-Mart instead of starting up my own clothing line.”

  “Oooh, you design clothes?” Brandy asked excitedly. “I love clothes. How about men? Are you good at them?”

  “Good? Uh, no.” Dorie shook her head and smiled at Cadence. “I don’t choose the wrong men, I just don’t ever seem to choose at all.”

  “You batting for the other team?” Brandy asked.

  “What? Oh, no. I just haven’t had much luck in the long-term department, that’s all.”

  “Join my club.” Cadence looked out at the water. “Hey, I have an idea. Let’s go for a sunset dip off the swim platform.”

  “See? Relaxation issues,” Brandy said to Dorie.

  Cadence defended herself. “I just have a hard time sitting, that’s all.”

  So did Dorie, thanks to her splinters.

  “Well, I happen to enjoy sitting.” Brandy eyed Ethan as if maybe he were a lollipop and she was a sugar junkie. “It’s too bad he bats for the other team.”

  “You mean . . .”

  “Gay as a two-dollar bill, I’m afraid. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I just think it’s a waste of a good package, is all. And he’s quite the package, isn’t he?”

  Dorie took in Ethan. He was medium height, slim and trim, and to Dorie, he still looked twelve, albeit an extremely good-looking twelve. But how to tell if someone was gay by just looking, she had no clue. “How do you know?”

  “Oh, I have the radar.” Brandy fluffed her already perfectly fluffed hair. “He’s gorgeous, immaculate, fit . . . They don’t make ’em straight like that, which is a real shame, let me tell you. Maybe I can convince him.”

  Dorie blinked, then turned to Cadence. “Swimming sounds good.”

  “What about sharks?” Brandy peered out at the ocean, a frown puckering her brow. “I hear they can sense you from twenty-five miles away. Aren’t you worried?”

  Well, she was now. Given the look on Cadence’s face, she wasn’t alone. “Okay, so no swimming. I probably couldn’t anyway. I twisted my ankle earlier.”

  “Right. When you fell on the dock.” Brandy nodded. “The crew was talking about it.”

  Great. She was already infamous.

  Cadence pulled her napkin out from beneath her drink. “Anyone have a pen?”

  “Me.” Dorie fished through her purse and found one of her charcoal sketching pencils. “Here. This’ll work.”

  “I’ll make our lists,” Cadence said.

  Brandy looked over Cadence’s shoulder at the napkin. “You mean for which guy we want?”

  Cadence laughed. “Uh, no. For our activities. I was thinking we could wind-sail tomorrow, see the whales and feed the turtles the next day, possibly parasail . . . And the captain said he’d show us this amazing coral reef . . .”

  Brandy looked at Dorie and raised a brow.

  “Oh.” The pencil slowed as Cadence looked up. “I’m doing it already. Impulsive organizing. Sorry. It’s just that I’ve never been on a vacation like this, in the South Pacific of all places. It’s unimaginable to me. We have to take advantage of it.”

  “I’ve never even been out of Vegas.” Brandy lifted a shoulder when they both stared at her. “Born and raised to be a dancer. That’s my whole world, never ever even thought about making it bigger, or that I could and why are you looking at me like that?”

  “It’s just that you look so . . .” Cadence trailed off.

  “Wo