Barefoot in the Sun (Barefoot Bay)(13)

“She changed her mind about the name?” Zoe couldn’t believe it. “He’s been Elijah since the day we found out which team he played for.”

Jocelyn shook her head. “Lacey is on a tear to find out that doctor’s name. You wouldn’t happen to know, would you, Zoe?”

“Me?” She felt her cheeks warm and directed all her attention to the baby, lifting his little body to her face, hoping he’d cover any unwanted blushing. “Oh, my goodness. Nothing smells like a baby, huh?”

Nobody answered.

Of course they’d all been in the room when Oliver had swept in; they’d all seen Zoe and Oliver react to each other. Had she said his name? Had he said hers? She didn’t even remember. The moment had been like the slow motion of a car wreck—afterwards, the details are impossible to remember. The only thing that lingered was the shock of impact.

When she looked up, she met Jocelyn’s gaze and gave her a look that she hoped, after fifteen years of friendship, could be interpreted correctly: Shut the hell up or die.

If Jocelyn even mentioned the name of the only human on earth who knew their secret in front of Pasha, Zoe would scream. She had to tell Pasha herself, and in her own way, about Oliver’s arrival in their life.

“We are not naming him after the doctor.” Surprising them all, Lacey stood in the kitchen, earning a cheer of greetings and “How are you feeling?” questions from everyone, which made little Elijah stir and shudder in Zoe’s arms.

As Lacey came into the room to give Zoe a hug, Pasha asked, “Why not name the baby after this doctor? I think that would be a wonderful tribute to the hero who saved him.”

Oh, Lord. “I wouldn’t go so far as saying he saved the baby,” Zoe said quickly.

“Zoe, I was crowning. God only knows what would have happened if he hadn’t come.”

“The paramedics were on the way,” Zoe countered.

“Not fast enough. I can’t imagine what would have happened if that doctor hadn’t been there,” Lacey insisted. “I was freaking out.”

“You were in labor,” Zoe said. “From what I saw, that’d freak anyone out.”

“You’re wrong, Zoe,” Pasha said, her voice reed thin but still carrying the authority of age. “It would be extremely good karma to name the child after him.”

“I don’t know.” Zoe fought to remain completely calm, and to keep the emotions welling up in her throat out of her voice. “There were no complications and he wasn’t Superman, just some guy who’s been through medical school. Anyone can deliver a baby; you don’t have to be a god or…” Her voice trailed off as she realized that everyone was silent, and staring at her.

“Anyway,” she mumbled, looking down at the baby. “Elijah Clay is a beautiful name and that’s what his name is. Right, little man?”

“Right,” Clay answered, following Lacey into the room wearing his own stained T-shirt. Elijah strikes again. “Plus I just talked to the doc and he told me he thinks we should stick to Elijah.”

Zoe froze. “You talked to him?” Fortunately, three people asked the question at the same time, so no one heard Zoe’s voice crack.

“Just hung up,” Clay said, holding up a cell phone as if that proved it.

“What’s his name?” Tessa asked.

“How did you find him?” Jocelyn wondered.

“I bet he wants to see the baby,” Pasha said.

Zoe clamped her mouth shut as Clay reached for his son, taking him out of Zoe’s arms with more assurance than she’d expect for a new papa. “He does want to see the baby. In fact, he and his son are on their way over here right now.”

What? “Now?” Zoe asked.

“Oh, and since we don’t want this boy to be called Ollie for short, we’re sticking with Elijah.”

“The doctor’s name was Oliver?” Pasha asked.

Please don’t say his last name. Please don’t—

“Dr. Oliver Bradbury.” Clay cuddled his son, the tiny baby lost in his daddy’s broad chest.

Pasha took in the slightest breath, so tiny that no one noticed but Zoe, who instantly swooped in. “You are looking so wiped out, Aunt P. Let’s get you home for an afternoon nap before…strangers invade the place.”

But the color drained from Pasha’s face, leaving her pale. He’s not a stranger. Zoe could practically hear the other woman’s thoughts.

“I’ll take her home,” Will offered quickly. “I’ve got my car and she shouldn’t walk all the way back to the bungalows.”

“I’ll go with you,” Zoe said.

“No.” Pasha’s command was harsh enough for the others to notice. She recovered quickly. “I want to nap, Zoe. You stay here. Please, you stay.”

Unsure, Zoe tried to gauge what Pasha was thinking. “Are you sure?”

Pasha stood when Will offered his hand. “I’ve never been more sure of anything,” she said, her dark eyes slicing through Zoe with an incomprehensible message.

No way Zoe was staying here and facing Oliver in front of her friends. “I’m coming back with you,” she said, standing up as Pasha hooked her arm into Will’s and headed out.

Tessa grabbed the strap of Zoe’s cover-up. “Hang on, Miss Z. You’re not running away this time.”

“Tessa, I want to go with her.”

“She’s fine.” She kept a grip on Zoe long enough for Pasha to get on her way. “Do you think I’m blind and stupid?” Tessa whispered so soflty only Zoe could hear her. “You could have lit up the whole resort with the electricity in that room last night. You need to face this guy down and get rid of whatever hold he has over you.”

Just before Pasha disappeared around the corner, she turned and gave Zoe a long, incomprehensible look. Then she was gone.

“He doesn’t have any hold over me,” Zoe said softly.

Except he knew her darkest secret and he’d been the only man she’d ever loved. But all that mattered now was that he held the keys to the one thing she wanted most in the whole world: Pasha’s life.

“Prove it,” Tessa challenged.

“I will.” She wasn’t sure how, but she had to. Pasha’s life depended on it.





Chapter Four

This is fun, Dad.”

“Is it?” Oliver tried to see Mimosa Key through his son’s eyes. Thick with tropical foliage, dotted with colorful, mismatched cottages and old-school mom-and-pop retailers, the center of the island was no more than a tiny town built around one main intersection that boasted a convenience store as its main attraction. Lowbrow as it was, Oliver imagined the charm of the place was more appealing than the manicured perfection of Naples to an eight-year-old.

Frankly, it was more appealing to a thirty-nine-year-old, too, but that might have more to do with the charm of a current resident than the town itself.

“And Mom says you hate fun.”

Oliver almost smiled. “So I’ve heard.” But if that were true, he wouldn’t have fallen for Zoe, the human embodiment of fun, in the first place. “But I cleared my day and brought you to…” He squinted at the one-story fleabag across from the Shell station. “A place with a motel called the Fourway.”

“Bet it’s named after the intersection,” Evan mused.

“One would hope.”

Evan laughed, but he sounded uncertain enough to assure Oliver that his son wasn’t quite that precocious.

“Want to have even more fun, Dad?”

“If I can handle it.”

“Let’s go in that place called the Super Min and get Slurpees. I’m parched.”

Oliver smiled at the word so few eight-year-olds would ever use. “All right. Let’s live dangerously and see some local color.”

Evan bounded out of the Porsche the second they parked in front of the store, full of energy and enough excitement over the modest adventure that Oliver had a pang of guilt. He’d worked a lot, and missed a lot, and now he’d moved away and ended his marriage. Evan might act smart and tough, but none of Oliver’s decisions had been easy on the child.

And who knew better than Oliver what a lasting impact a parent’s actions can have on a kid his age? He vowed to remember that this summer. No, he wasn’t going to spoil Evan, but indulging him a little couldn’t hurt, either.

With that promise in his heart, he watched the boy yank open the door and stopped to appreciate the old-fashioned bell that announced their arrival. Inside, they met the sharp-eyed gaze of a sixty-something proprietor propped on a stool behind the counter.

“Don’t tell me,” she said. “You’re going to Casa Blanca.”

Oliver and Evan shared a look. “How’d you know?” Evan asked.