Page 26 of Tropical Inferno

“I love you too, sweetie. Call me, okay? I don’t care what time it is, I need to know you’re okay. I still have his number in my phone—if I don’t hear from you in a couple of hours I’ll call him myself.”

“Don’t worry, he won’t hurt me, not like that. Talk to you later.” She disconnected and sat there a while longer, letting the ocean breeze cool her a little. Jamie knew what Garrett had done and hadn’t told her to go running for cover; that meant something. Now she was going to find out what.

* * *

The front door to the guest house was locked and Maddie let herself in while calling to Garrett. There was no response and she looked around in surprise. Everything was very quiet and very clean. Her dress was no longer on the floor in the living room and his swim trunks weren’t on the back of one of the chaise lounges on the patio either. She hurried to his room and it was completely empty. His suitcase and backpack were gone, there were no toiletries in the bathroom and the bed was even made. He left?!

Her heart slamming in her chest, she ran to her room and there on the bed was an envelope with her name on it. She ripped it open, sinking onto the bed as she read.

Hi beautiful,

I know you’re mad at me and I’m so, so sorry. I never should have let things go so far but I couldn’t help it—I am 100% yours and for as long as you still want me, you’re 100% mine. My situation is the worst kind of cluster… I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t. If I defend myself, I’ll lose my career, my salary, everything. If I don’t, there’s a 50-50 chance this will all blow over, and that’s what I’m hanging on to. People get past most scandals professionally, and I have to think about my future. Maybe even OUR future. What good am I if I can’t take care of you? You don’t want to be with some grease monkey, living paycheck to paycheck. I want more for you. More for my future baby mechanics…if you can ever find it in your heart to forgive me.

You’re going to hear ugly things about me and I can’t stand to think about how it’s going to disappoint you. Please know that not everything is black-and-white. Someday, I hope I’ll have the chance to tell you my side of the story.

The room and anything you need at the resort is paid for. I’ve arranged for a car to take you to the airport the day after tomorrow. The concierge has all the details. If something comes up, ask for Jim Roarke and he’ll help you.

Just for the record, last night was a hell of a lot more than romantic nonsense; I have the mark on my shoulder to prove it.

Always,

Garrett

P.S. My real name is Garrett “Hawk” Hawkins, #90, left wing for the Ottawa Generals.

14

She read it three times, tears splashing down her cheeks. After all this, he’d walked away and she still didn’t know what was going on. She angrily ripped the letter into tiny pieces and threw them on the floor, resisting the urge to stomp on them as well. Annoyed she hadn’t brought her laptop with her, she blew her nose and tramped out of the house towards the main hotel building. There had to be some sort of business center with a computer she could use. If not, she would ask for Jim and see if he would let her use one somewhere else.

She was gratified to see two computers available for guests to use, but they were both occupied and she paced restlessly, her hands fisted at her sides as she tried to relax. She had her phone but she didn’t have a data plan in the U.S. and the roaming charges added up quickly so she was doing her best to wait.

“Madison?” A voice spoke behind her and she turned to see a handsome man in chinos and a polo shirt holding out his hand.

“Yes?” She took it instinctively, shaking it.

“I’m Jim Roarke. Hawk, er, Garrett asked me to make sure you were okay.”

“If I could get on a computer, I’d be able to tell you if I was okay or not,” she muttered, wincing as she realized how impolite that was. “I’m sorry—it’s been a stressful day already.”

He smiled. “Come with me. You can use a computer in one of the offices so you can have some privacy as well.”

“Thank you.” She followed him curiously, dying to ask him a million questions and finally blurting out, “Have you known Garrett a long time?”

“A couple of years. He visits fairly regularly.”

“Is he your friend? Like genuinely your friend?”

He turned and met her eyes. “Absolutely.”

“Still?”

He unlocked an office door and allowed her to walk in ahead of him. He turned on a computer and motioned her toward it.

“I won’t be long,” she said, sitting down. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Don’t hesitate to ask for anything you need.” He strode towards the door but paused just before he walked out. “And to answer your question? Yes. Still.”

Maddie met his gaze briefly but then turned back to the screen. This was the moment of truth. She typed in his name followed by “Ottawa Generals.” Links popped up immediately and she swallowed hard, seeing a photo of him in his jersey on the screen. He didn’t have a mohawk in the picture, just a regular haircut, perhaps a little bit in need of a trim. He looked grim, as though he’d already been planning for something bad to happen when he took the profile picture for the team.

---