Forever Hunted: Forever Bluegrass #9

Carter held out his hand, indicating she should go first, but she shook her head. “I have to wait for Diego to get his stuff and then lock the plane.”

“Okay. I’ll be waiting for you by the car.” Carter reached down and took the bag from her and exited the plane. The staircase wobbled under his weight but held strong as he made his way to the tarmac where the owners of the horse farm were waiting for him.

He filled them in on the mares, including medical histories and food preferences. Reagan and Diego worked to shut down the plane. Soon enough, the mares were on their way to their temporary home and Reagan was by his side. “I’m all yours until tomorrow morning.”

“Then let’s not waste a single moment,” he said, grabbing her hand and walking to the car. “How does a picnic lunch at the beach sound?”

“It sounds great, but I didn’t bring anything except a pair of shorts and a T-shirt.”

“That’s okay. There’s a shop attached to our hotel. You can pick up a bathing suit there and anything else you want.”

Carter reached out and placed his hand over hers as the car drove away from the airport. His heart beat wildly at touching her again. He’d kept his distance on the plane, but now he was going to show her how much more there could be between them. He didn’t know what he’d do if Reagan didn’t feel the same way.





3





Carter saw Reagan’s eyes widen as they pulled up to the hotel. “Carter, this is where all the celebrities stay. I know, because I’ve heard stories about it from my dad.”

He smiled as he squeezed her hand. “It is. But it’s also where we’re staying. The owner bought one of my horses last year and was happy to accommodate us at the last second. Do you like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” Reagan said with wonder as she took in the palm trees, fancy sports cars, and beautiful architecture of the hotel.

The car pulled to a stop, and sure enough, the owner was waiting for them. “Carter,” he said as they shook hands. “It’s great to see you again. And this must be Reagan. Welcome.”

“Thank you,” she said as she shook his hand. “Your hotel is beautiful.” Carter rested his hand casually on the small of Reagan’s back, and they walked inside while talking horses. The owner was completely smitten with the horse that had started out as nothing more than an investment.

“I was able to get you the room you wanted,” the owner said as they stopped in front of the check-in desk. “Monica, these are my guests for the evening. Make sure they are well taken care of. I’ll be in Kentucky soon. My baby will be racing at Keeneland Race Track in the fall. We’ll have to get together for dinner.”

“I’d like that, and thank you,” Carter said with meaning. If it hadn’t been for his connection with the owner, there would’ve been no way for him to get the last-minute reservation.

“You’re in The Royal Suite. Fifteenth floor and you need to use your key on the elevator before pressing the floor button. Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Ashton?” the beautiful blonde behind the counter asked as she handed him the key.

“Yes, can you have a picnic lunch sent out to our car? We’ll be leaving in thirty minutes for the beach.”

“Of course.” She smiled and picked up the phone to place the order as Carter reached once again for Reagan’s hand.

“Now we shop,” he told her. He saw her grimace. Reagan wasn’t a shopper. She was a jeans and T-shirt girl, and he loved that about her. But right now he had the overwhelming desire to spoil her.

Carter led her to the boutique shop that connected to the lobby. The shop was luxury amplified. Crystal chandeliers, beautiful original artwork, and racks of designer clothes ranging from bathing suits to ball gowns filled the shop. Carter saw Reagan nervously eyeing the racks of swimwear, so he had some fun and held up a skimpy bikini as he wiggled his eyebrows. Helping Reagan shop was going to be fun.

“No way,” she hissed. While she was there to pick out a bathing suit, Carter saw that her eyes kept traveling to a gold mini dress in the window display. It would look stunning on her . . . and she would need a formal dress for dinner. Carter pretended not to notice her glances at the dress while they looked through bathing suits as he formulated a plan to surprise her.

“This will work,” she said, pulling out a navy blue bikini. Only this bikini was a halter that covered everything and not the skimpy see through one he’d pulled out.

“Try it on first, then we’ll head up to the room and change.”

As soon as she went into the changing room, Carter called the attentive sales associate over. “Do you have the gold dress over there in a size eight?”

“Yes, I believe we do,” she smiled. If the dress was in the front window, it was going to cost a fortune but it would be worth every dollar Carter spent to see Reagan’s smile later.

“Bill it to my room and have it put in the closet an hour from now.”

Her smile widened. “Lucky lady.”

“No, I’m a lucky man.”



* * *



What was she doing? Reagan found herself asking that more and more as the day went along. She was in a stunning bathing suit with a price tag higher than her normal hotel room near the airport, and she was staying in a suite in the hottest hotel in Los Angeles.

Reagan pulled a gray Lexington Thoroughbreds football T-shirt over her head as Carter turned around. He wore a white T-shirt with bright royal blue trunks that stopped inches above his knees, revealing tanned muscular legs. They had grown up swimming together. But in the last five or so years, that wasn’t something they did anymore. They were too busy to get everyone together at Will and Kenna’s pool or to go down to the lake like they used to as teenagers. Instead, some of the girls would get together, have some drinks, and lounge by the pool or at a lake house. Seeing Carter ready to swim made her feel self-conscious. He hadn’t seen this much of her in years. Yet, the idea of him stripping off his shirt as water splashed his bare chest was incentive enough to hurry into the room, ready to go.

“Ready?” he asked, picking up a stack of large towels. He held out his hand, and she crossed the large living room decorated with leather couches, comfortable chairs, and fresh flowers to place her hand in his. “Have you been swimming in the Pacific before?”

“Swimming, no. I went to the Santa Monica pier a couple times but never had time to do anything more than stick my feet in the water and grab a bite to eat.”

“Then this is going to be fun. We have the whole afternoon to spend there. It’s a bit of drive to El Matador Beach, but worth it. It’s much less crowded and will be an afternoon to remember.”

Reagan placed her hand in his and didn’t doubt for one second that this afternoon would be remembered for the rest of her life.



* * *



The car was waiting for them as they exited the hotel. The drive was long, but Carter kept her entertained by pointing out the sights and telling her stories from his previous trips to Los Angeles. Finally they arrived at the secluded beach, exited the car, and stood on a cliff overlooking the ocean. A massive rock formation stood in the sand, the water lapped at the base of one edge. There were people at the beach, but it wasn’t crowded.

“It’s low tide,” Carter said as the wind blew off the ocean. “The water is on its way out. When the tide turns, the water will come up and crash around the rock formation. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s so peaceful here. I was expecting crowds and the noise of Santa Monica.”

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