Barefoot in the Sun (Barefoot Bay)(15)

“Yes!” Evan chirped. “We live at the Ritz-Carlton and I hate it there.”

Clay gave an unsure look. “Am I walking into a land mine?”

Oliver shook his head. “Not really. I recently relocated here from Chicago, started a practice, and work with a clinic in Naples. I haven’t had time to focus on buying a house, and Evan is not a fan of our hotel.”

“Well, we could probably work out a better deal than you’re paying at the Ritz, and you’d have a three-thousand-square-foot house with a pool and yard.”

Evan slammed on the brakes and they all shot forward in their seats. “A yard for a dog?”

“Whoa, Evan.” Oliver put his hand on his son’s shoulder. “Easy on the brakes and the dog.”

Clay shrugged. “We don’t have a problem with animals in the villas. We actually welcome them.”

“Well, then, that’s something to think about,” Oliver said vaguely. “Right now you should be concentrating on driving, son.”

“I’ll take you to look at Bay Laurel later, if you like,” Clay said, obviously sensing that Oliver’s enthusiasm was a little downgraded from his son’s.

Of course it was. Zoe was living on this property. One more thing to remember.

They reached the end of the resort’s road, pulling into the circular drive of another beautiful home, this one feeling lived in and loved and different enough from the rental villas that it was obviously not part of Casa Blanca.

Evan brought the golf cart to a not-quite-smooth stop, then turned to look at his dad. “I want to live here, Dad. For the whole summer.” His voice almost cracked with the fervent plea. “I want to live here.”

Right then, one of the double front doors opened and Zoe stepped out into the sunshine, a tiny baby in her arms and a blinding smile on her face. The sunlight spilled over her hair and straight through the white gauzy thing that barely covered her body.

“Can we live here this summer, Dad?”

Oliver’s mouth went bone dry, his pulse doubled, and his brain went blank, forgetting everything he’d sworn to remember. “Yes.”





“Woo-hoo!” Evan shrieked so loud the baby in Zoe’s arms startled and opened his mouth to cry. In the time it took for him to gather his next breath, Tessa was on one side and Jocelyn on the other, ready to seize the coveted Elijah.

But then they both zeroed in on the arrivals and forgot the baby.

“Whoa,” Jocelyn said in a low whistle. “I guess in all that chaos at the grand opening, I didn’t notice how gorgeous our doctor in shining armor really was.”

“Um, you were busy getting engaged,” Zoe reminded her.

“He reminds me of George Clooney in the old ER episodes,” Tessa agreed.

“More like McDreamy,” Jocelyn said.

“And Doctor Hottie sure can’t take his eyes off Zoe.” Tessa whispered with the subtlety of a bad ventriloquist.

Oh, brother. “Don’t you think this is too much sun for the baby?”

“Actually, vitamin D is great for him.”

“Shut up, Tessa, and take him inside.” Zoe did the handoff quickly, especially because she was already quivering a little.

Oliver is here.

Surely he wouldn’t have come to Casa Blanca just to see the baby, right? He had to be here because he’d rethought his response and wanted to help her. Right?

There was only one way to find out. She headed toward the golf cart, corralling every ounce of swagger she had.

“Hi, Zoe! Remember me?” Evan scrambled out of the golf cart and ran to her.

“Mr. Potty Mouth?” she teased, ruffling his hair. “Of course I remember you.”

“We’re moving here!”

She froze midstep. “What?”

“Dad said we can move out of the hotel and rent one of these houses on the beach. Isn’t that cool?” He came closer and lowered his voice. “No more Shitz-Carlton.”

She stole a glance at Oliver, who approached slowly, as if he wasn’t sure what to make of her…or the news.

He looked even sexier in casual clothes, if that was possible. A polo shirt fit snug on his broad shoulders, hanging over loose linen pants. He didn’t smile, but studied her with the same intensity she was probably using on him.

“That was easy,” he said, so softly only she could hear him.

“What was?”

“Finding you.”

Heat that had nothing to do with the tropics rolled over her.

“Evan, why don’t you follow Mr. Walker inside and go meet the baby I delivered last night?” Oliver suggested. “I need to talk to Zoe.”

After a minute of negotiating Evan did as he was told, leaving the two of them frying under the blistering sun and staring at each other.

“You left too soon,” he finally said.

“Story of our relationship, isn’t it?”

He took a step closer, giving her a chance to see that a few beads of sweat had formed on his upper lip. They would taste…salty. And sweet. “But this time when I came after you, I found you.”

She could have given up the fight right then and there. She could reach out, pull herself into him, raise her face, and let him kiss the holy hell out of her. Because that was all she wanted.

But not what she needed.

Braced by that thought, she lifted her face to him, but not for a kiss. “I hope you came to talk about my aunt and what you can do for her.”

“I came to talk about Evan, and how and when he was conceived.”

Seriously? “I’m going to assume he was conceived the usual way and as far as when? I can add. Whatever, Oliver. It’s hist—”

“And I found out in the balloon that day.”

It actually took a few seconds for the words to process in her head. She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. But the world slipped away, as if she’d caught a dangerous cross breeze.

“That’s why I left so quickly,” he said. “That’s why I didn’t really talk about your situation. I was too stuck on my own.”

Still, no words. In the balloon that day?

“And of course, I had no way of finding you to tell you that I decided to—”

“Dr. Bradbury!” From the front door, Lacey called out, making them both turn instantly.

Her curls sprang in a wild strawberry-blonde halo and she looked like she was about to launch herself down the steps and across the driveway despite her post-delivery attire, which included bare feet, sleep pants, and a maternity T-shirt.

Aw, Lace. Now?

But Oliver instantly went to her, leaving Zoe hanging on a cliff.

Then Lacey was hugging him, thanking him, and dragging him inside. All he could do was shoot an apologetic glance over his shoulder.

Zoe let out a sigh of frustration. Lacey didn’t know, of course. She probably didn’t remember she’d seen Oliver before—in the lobby store of the Ritz almost two years ago. Zoe had brushed off that chance meeting back then, and she doubted that Lacey—especially in her sleep-deprived, new-mom brain fog—would ever remember.

She waited outside for a few minutes, letting Oliver’s news sink in.

He found out in the balloon that day.

In the time since she’d met Evan and counted months, that possibility had never occurred to her. Hell, in the nine years that had transpired since that day, she’d never even thought about those phone messages he’d received up there, long before texting became part of everyday life. She’d always assumed it was about a patient.

No, she really hadn’t assumed anything because she’d never thought much past his reaction to her announcement, and his subsequent demands that she “do the right thing” and talk to a lawyer or the police.

What would have happened if she’d waited? Would he still have married Adele? Would he have forced her to try to “resolve” things with the law and Pasha? Or would he have deemed her unacceptable—too much of a risk, too far off the grid, too flighty for a grounded guy with a potential blockbuster career?

She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer to that question. And even if he told her, could she believe him? It didn’t matter. All she really wanted was for him to fix Pasha. That’s who was broken, not Zoe.

She walked toward the house, opening the door to find Clay, Lacey, and Oliver talking in the entryway.

Oliver held the tiny baby in his arms and, shit, if that wasn’t the goddamned sexiest thing she’d ever seen, she didn’t know what was.

Clay was laughing, putting a friendly hand on Oliver’s arm. “We might have to put your little boy in charge of the sales staff. Why don’t we take a look at Bay Laurel right now, then? You can move in this week.”

Oh, Lord.

“Maybe Zoe should take Oliver,” Lacey said quickly.