Page 21 of The All-Inclusive

The big guy follows, clenching his jaw in an expression that reminds me what SEALs call Marines.Jarheadstomps toward me, muscles bunching with menace. He looks like he’d love to pummel me into the ground.

I’d like to see him fucking try.

“Go ahead,” I growl, jerking my wrists in the handcuffs. “Having me cuffed is the only way to get a fair fight between a frogman and a jarhead.”

The Marine jerks to a halt. “You’re a SEAL?” That doesn’t stop him from coming at me. He’s not taking any chances on me getting loose and laying my hands on Sara. With a few steady steps, he’s between us again, shielding my girl with his half-naked body.

The guy folds his arms and glares. “I don’t care who the fuck you are, but that’s no way to treat a woman. You owe her a goddamn apology.”

I owe her a lot more than that.

I wish I could hate him, but I’d do the same in his shoes.

He’s protecting the woman I love, so I owe him the shirt off my back.

Also a punch in the jaw.

Behind the big shield of his frame, Sara drags his shirt over her head. Moving around him, she starts for the door and pleads with whoever just cuffed me. “It’s okay,” she pants, though clearly it’s not. “Please, just let me talk to him.”

Glancing behind me, I see three uniformed guards looking more than a little bit pissed. They’d probably hoped she’d ask them to drag my ass to jail. Is there even a jail on this island?

“Ma’am.” One of the guards clears his throat. “No unauthorized guestsat this resort.”

Another guard pulls out his phone. “I’m calling Mr. Holyfield right now.”

“Good,” I grumble. “Tell him Trent James says hi.”

The guard looks surprised, then pauses a second before repeating my words into the phone. I can’t hear the response, but ten seconds later, he’s pressing the phone to my ear. “He wants to speak with you.”

I can’t use my hands, so I’m stuck on my knees with Sara standing over me in another man’s shirt. The man in question—the jarhead—just stands there scowling, his massive arms flexing.

I look into his eyes as I speak into the phone. “Hey, Holyfield.” I brace for the yelling. “I can explain.”

There’s a long, tense pause. “I sincerely hope so.”

That makes two of us.

“Uh, see, I found out Sara came here.” This isn’t sounding as smooth as I’d hoped. “And I wanted to talk to her.”

I can practically hear the man’s teeth grinding. “You’re aware there’s a device called a telephone,” Ashton Holyfield says stiffly. “Or email, perhaps, or an old-fashioned letter?”

“Yeah.” I think of the story I heard about Ash and Camille. How he fucked up and knew it and went after her. “You know what it feels like to screw up and then go crazy chasing after your girl?”

There’s a sound like he’s choking, then the man clears his throat. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you mean.”

Sara holds out her hand. “Let me talk to him.”

The guards just stare. One of them swallows with an audible click. “You want to speak to the owner of the resort?”

Another guard scoffs. “Ashton Holyfield is a very busy man.”

Sara scoffs right back. “He’s probably busy banging my bestie, Camille. Give me that.” She snatches the phone from his hand, leaving the wide-eyed guard gaping.

“I’m okay,” she says to Holyfield. “Please, can I just have a fewminutes to speak with Trent and find out what the hell he’s thinking?”

I don’t hear the answer, but no one looks thrilled with that plan. Jarhead keeps glaring, while all three security guards stay glued to my side like I might get up and run.

“I’m not going anywhere.” I sound like a petulant ass. “I just need to talk to Sara.”

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