The Man I Want to Be Page 12

  Ah, the memories.

  Tyke crept up the adjacent path, trailing slightly behind them. He overheard her say, “I’d prefer your room, if you don’t mind.” There was an awkward pause where the guy seemed like he might argue, so she said, “You said it has a beautiful view of the garden. I’ve been imagining opening the windows and allowing the soft floral scent to drift over me as I’m lying in bed.”

  Oh, what the fuck ever. Now Tyke knew she was playing the guy. She hated plants. All of them. Even flowers that put off “soft floral scents.” She was obviously planning to scope out the guy’s room for the missing items, and Tyke couldn’t let her do that. If Michael was the one who had stolen from wedding guests, and then he realized what Kenna was up to, who knows how he would react. Uh-uh. Not happening.

  Tyke picked up his pace, cutting around the fountain to decrease his travel time in half. He entered the lobby and was standing by the bank of elevators with a hotel pamphlet covering his face as they approached.

  “Stay right here,” Michael whispered. “I’m going to order something special for us.”

  Tyke peered over the paper to see Michael lean in for a kiss, but she turned and gave him her cheek. Probably to ease the blow, she cupped his cheek and said, “Be quick, okay?”

  Tyke didn’t bother holding off an eye roll.

  Once Michael was a few feet away, chatting with a dark-skinned man in a hotel uniform at the Guest Services desk, Tyke reached around the corner and yanked Kenna to him. He spun so her back was against the wall, and he enveloped her. From his angle no one would be able to see Kenna behind Tyke’s large body.

  “What’s the matter with you?” she screeched in a hushed tone. “You’re going to blow my cover!”

  “Your cover?” he snapped. “You don’t have a cover!”

  “As far as Michael is concerned, I do.”

  Nerves grabbed hold of him and bit down with razor-sharp teeth. He couldn’t ever remember a time in his life—maybe once when he first shipped out to basic training—that he felt like this. Fear. He didn’t like the feeling one bit. “I’m not letting you do this.”

  “It’s not up to you.” The desperate look she gave cut right through him. “I have to know.”

  He leaned in, his stomach brushing her rib cage. His hands landed on the wall behind her, caging her in as he softened his voice. “Look, I know you’re pissed at me for earlier. But please don’t do this.”

  “Being pissed at you has nothing to do with getting my mom’s ring back.”

  He scrubbed his face. A million possessive thoughts sped through his brain. He knew she wasn’t going to actually sleep with the guy. But even the thought of her in another man’s room made his pulse quicken.

  “Do you have a plan?” he asked.

  She shrugged as if going back to a potentially dangerous man’s room was no big deal. “I figured I’d wing it once I got in there. I mean, his room can’t be that big. I’ll just look around.”

  Tyke was already shaking his head. “You’re not doing this.”

  Her gaze hardened. “Try and stop me.”

  He chewed on her words, knowing that when Kenna set her mind to something there was no stopping her.

  He looked over his shoulder at Michael, who seemed to be finishing up his conversation.

  What if he really was their guy? What if they could end this tonight? They could get her mom’s ring back. Claire’s watch. Estelle’s brooch. And make sure the guy never stole anything again.

  And you can finally give Kenna what she deserves—an apology. Closure.

  “Goddamn it.” Tyke pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. “Call me. I’ll leave it on so I can hear everything that goes go.” He pulled an extra key to his room out next. “When you’re done, meet me in my room so we can debrief.”

  She eyed the phone and key with an unsure expression. “Michael’s door will automatically lock once it’s closed. How would you be able to save me if something happens?”

  “Easy. I’ll break the fucking thing down.”

  Chapter Eleven

  He was one of the suspects, and she was in his room. Getting this far, close enough to retrieve her mother’s ring, sent her excitement soaring. With each step forward into the room, she tried to slow her breathing. Calm down. She’d never get it back if she blew this lie right now.

  In an attempt to steady herself, she skated her hand over the smooth wood surface of the dresser. Then along the soft cotton sheets on the bed. She kept her small bag open and across her shoulder, cell phone on as Bear had instructed. The fact that Bryan was listening in gave her the confidence to see this thing through.

  Kenna didn’t see any of the stolen items out in the open. Which meant she’d have to search for them.

  But where and how? Now she regretted her stubbornness in pushing Bryan’s help away. He’d probably know exactly where to look. She lowered her hand to where her phone rested inside. She needed to distract Michael enough so she could talk with Bryan and search the room.

  Michael came up behind her, standing close enough that she could feel his arousal against her backside. He bent to kiss her shoulder, working his way up the column of her neck to her jaw. He tried nudging her face toward him, but she stepped forward and turned around.

  “So,” she said. “This is a nice room.”

  “It’s even nicer now that you’re in it.”

  She held off a groan. Bear heard that played-out line and was most likely laughing right now.

  Michael placed a hand at the base of her spine and pulled her toward him. “So how do you want to do this?”

  Spotting a bottle of pinot on the cabinet across the room, she beelined for it. “Why don’t we get to know each other a little more first?” She lifted the bottle with a grin.

  His expression slipped, showing disappointment, before he recovered. “Sure.” He took the bottle from her and opened a drawer by the windows, pulling out an opener and two goblets.

  Keeping her distance, she walked the room. He came up behind her and kissed her bare shoulder again, making her jump slightly. A glass of red wine came into view, and she snatched it as if it was her savior.

  Michael placed his hand in hers and pulled her with him to the bed. He tugged, and she collapsed next to him, nearly landing in his lap. Scooting a few inches away, she readjusted herself and cleared her throat.

  “You seem anxious,” Michael said, sliding a thick piece of her hair over her shoulder.

  “Not at all.” She worked to not recoil from his touch. Michael’s fingers were soft and smooth across her skin. He had the hands of a man who crunched numbers all day. There wasn’t anything wrong with that, but it wasn’t her kind of man. She liked someone who wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty. A man whose fingers were rough and callused from manual labor. Someone who could handle anything at a moment’s notice. No matter the situation. Michael seemed like the type who was really good at calling someone else to do the dirty work.

  He deposited his drink on the nearby table, then tried to take her glass from her while leaning his face close to hers.

  “Mmmm, this wine is sooo good,” she said, gently pulling it back and taking another drink.

  His face fell, and he settled next to her, brushing his knuckles down her arm.

  “You smell so good,” he said, nudging his nose in the crook of her neck. “What perfume are you wearing?”

  “None,” she said, trying not to notice the fact that he wore way too much. A very distinct scent of sweet vinegar and lemon. It was giving her a headache.

  “Oh.” He froze. “Well, it must just be the essence of you. I’m addicted to it.”

  She closed her eyes and held off another groan. Yep, Bear would’ve heard that generic line, too.

  She couldn’t stall all night, she knew that. So it was time to put her plan into action. Mission: Get Michael Out of the Room commence.

  He continued to root in her neck, so she braced an arm behind her on the bed and leane
d away from him. “You know what I could really go for right now?”

  “What’s that?” Michael smirked with hidden meaning behind the expression.

  Definitely not that, buddy.

  “A hot shower.” She tried to make it sound more sexual than she’d meant. Not the most thought-out plan, but it was something. Hopefully she could keep him in the bathroom long enough to find something incriminating.

  His eyes widened slowly, and his smirk turned into a full-watt grin. He was on his feet in seconds, bringing her with him, nearly making her spill her wine. She righted her glass just in time. Thank goodness. That would’ve been a waste of decent wine.

  She lifted her chin as she downed another healthy mouthful of wine, then placed the glass on the table beside his. “Want to get the water ready? I’ll be in shortly.”

  Michael hurried into the bathroom.

  Kenna reached into her purse and pulled her phone out, holding it at her side.

  “Almost ready?” Michael peered around the doorway.

  She walked to the bathroom door and glided a finger down the bridge of his nose. “Go ahead and get in. I’m just getting myself ready for you.” His eyes showed impatience before she closed the door. And she winced. Getting herself ready for him? God, this was embarrassing.

  Sounds of Michael getting into the shower, then “Ready when you are!”

  “Yeah, yeah,” she mumbled to herself. “Coming!” she said loud enough for his benefit.

  Propping her phone between her shoulder and ear, she whispered, “If you were a bad guy and you wanted to hide something in your hotel room, where would you put it?”

  “In the safe,” Bear’s tense voice came back. “But if he’s smart, it’s gonna be locked.”

  Worth a try. She opened the closet and turned the small black handle on the door of the safe. “Yep, locked.”

  “Check all the drawers and under the bed.”

  Kenna pulled the drawers open, one by one, and upon finding them empty, she shut them and moved onto the next. She got down on her hands and knees, and using the phone’s screen for light, she looked under the bed.

  “Nothing,” she said. “I don’t see anything.”

  “Luggage,” Bear said. “Where’s his luggage?”

  “Good idea.”

  She went back to the closet—

  “Kenna?” Michael said, and then the shhh of the shower door opening.

  Shit!

  She pushed the bathroom door open and peeked around with just her shoulder, neck, and head. With her strapless dress, it made it look like she wasn’t wearing anything.

  “Yeah, stud?”

  He had soap in his hair that dripped down the side of his head. Thankfully, the steam in the room saved her from getting a full frontal view of his goods. “There you are. I thought you’d left. Come on in. The water’s fine.” He waggled his eyebrows.

  “Yep,” she said. “Just taking off my very slinky, barely there undies.” She spun, pulling the door closed behind her.

  She rested her back against the door and put the phone back to her ear. Undies? God almighty, what was wrong with her?

  “Barely there undies?” Bear said with a smirk in his tone.

  “Shut up.”

  Stepping forward, she slid the closet door open and pulled his luggage out, quickly unzipping the two suitcases to search inside.

  Empty.

  Empty.

  Empty.

  Damn it.

  “Nothing,” she said in a hushed screech, heart racing. “I don’t see anything! It’s not here!”

  “Your assignment’s over,” Bear said. “Get the hell out of there. Now.”

  “But—” Kenna hesitated to do another sweep of the room. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She must have missed something. The items had to be here. This might be her last chance. She had to—

  “Kenna?” Michael said. “Kenna, come on. I’m getting all pruney.”

  Right. Time to go.

  “I’m sorry, Michael,” she shouted as she passed the bathroom. “You’re nice, but I can’t do this!”

  She ripped the entry door open and dashed down the hallway toward the elevators.

  Once the gold doors opened, she threw herself inside and wilted against the wall, waiting for the quick jolt of gravity. Despair hit her sharp and fast. That sham was for nothing. And despite the fact that Michael had sex on the mind, he still seemed like a genuinely okay guy. A bit ordinary in his advances, but she couldn’t hold that against him. He was decent. Deep down she knew Michael wasn’t the thief. So now she felt doubly bad for thinking he was and for leading him on when she’d had no intention of going through with it.

  She was no closer to finding her mom’s ring than she was before.

  Despair gave way to helplessness, which quickly morphed into anger. If she couldn’t control getting her ring back, she needed to blame someone for it. And the easiest target at the moment was the man who caused her to lose the ring in the first place. The man she was starting to have feelings for again. Starting to trust again.

  Trust. Trust wasn’t something she freely gave anymore. Bryan had shown her how detrimental it could be. When she relinquished control, when she gave him the reins and let him guide her future, she ended up with nothing but disappointment and a broken heart.

  If Bryan had come home all those years ago like he’d promised, that ring would’ve been safely on her finger and unavailable to steal. Sure, it wouldn’t have stopped Claire’s watch or Estelle’s brooch from being taken, but at least Kenna could help find those items with a clearer head.

  Instead, Claire and Estelle would lose out anyway. And Kenna would have to leave this island without her most precious piece of jewelry—the final goodbye to not only her late mother, but also to Bear.

  He’d done this to her.

  …

  Tyke paced the carpet in his suite, waiting for the sound of Kenna approaching. He’d opened the door twice already and looked down the hall. He continued pacing. Walked out onto the patio, gazed out at the ocean, listened to the sound of the waves crashing, then came back in and paced some more.

  His room was on the ninth floor; Michael’s room was on the sixth. The wait for her to travel three floors was excruciating. The image of her in another man’s room—making sexual promises, no matter how fake—was more than he could process. Thinking about Michael touching her. His lips on her. Tyke had heard more lips smacking onto skin than he cared to.

  His hands curled into fists as he stomped across the room. He opened the mini fridge, looked in, but couldn’t focus enough to see what was inside, so he slammed the thing closed.

  Finally, he heard someone sliding the card into the door and then the handle clicking open.

  She walked in and he released a long breath.

  Thank Christ.

  Without acknowledging him, Kenna dropped her bag onto the dresser closest to the door and then walked across the room, sliding the door open to the balcony. Once outside, she leaned on the railing with folded arms, her head falling forward and shoulders lifting up and down on deep breaths.

  He followed her out, resting back against the glass door. “You did good tonight. You were smart and kept your cool.”

  “Gee, thanks,” she said, not turning.

  He pushed to stand. “I’m serious. I was impressed.”

  She snorted. “Because that was my main focus. To impress you.”

  His jaw locked down, and he worked hard not to lash out at her. It was their thing. Going at each other like a pack of rabid dogs. She’d say something sarcastic, and then he’d go back at her with something hurtful. He knew she was frustrated at not finding the missing items, so he was trying to be patient.

  But he was Tyke, and his patience only went so far.

  “Kenna,” he said, moving toward her, stopping just before making contact.

  She whirled and shoved him in his chest. “I don’t belong to you anymore. Get that through your
big head, okay?”

  He stumbled back a step. “What the hell are you—?”

  “You don’t have the right to make me feel this way,” she went on, her eyes blazing. “You’re the one who didn’t come back, remember? Not me.”

  He touched his chest to hers. “I know what the hell I did. You don’t have to keep reminding me.”

  “Yes, I do!” she shouted into the dark night. “Because you don’t listen!”

  “I don’t listen?” He let out a sharp laugh. “Look in the mirror, sweetheart. You’re the one who went traipsing into some other man’s room with the pretense of sex.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “Traipsing? You’ve got a lot of nerve, Bryan. If you hadn’t…” She slammed her lips together. “Maybe I wouldn’t have had to be in another man’s room if you hadn’t…if you hadn’t…” She looked away, her jaw working.

  “If I hadn’t what?” he said, bringing his face closer to her level. “Go ahead. Say it. What did I do this time?” He’ll just add it to the list.

  “I had to do it,” she bit out, ignoring his question. She was staring to her left at the vast expanse of darkness. A few faint glows from some of the resort activities below illuminated the outline of her face. When she brought her gaze back to him, her eyes were hard and unwavering. It was turning him on, watching that fire ignite and burn out of control. “I had to go to Michael’s room. I had to act like I was interested in him. My ring is gone, and I need to do whatever I can to get it back. Whatever it takes.”

  He brushed the backs of his fingers down her cheek. In a rasp, he said, “I told you I’ll handle it. I’m gonna get it back for you.”

  She let out a dark chuckle. “Like I’m going to trust you to keep your word.”

  His hand dropped. How the hell was he supposed to prove to her that in this instance she could trust him? He was going to come through for her. He might’ve failed her in the past, but just this once he was going to make things right.

  “Kenna, I know it goes against your naturally stubborn-ass nature, but please. I’m begging you. This is what I’m good at. Let me do it. Let me make this right for you.” He paused. “I have to make this right.”

  She blinked a few times, her gaze thawing to blue liquid as she digested what he’d said.