Key West Heat Book 4
Take one newspaper writer who goes to Key West for an assignment, add a cute Cuban vixen looking for a good time, stir carefully with a Key Lime twist and let the beach party begin. Brad didn’t know what to expect when Chiquita set her sights on him at the bar, but he certainly didn’t think she’d change his cynical outlook on life. The free-spirited pixie with a natural flair for hustling opens his eyes to a different world, but can he adapt to her laidback, carefree lifestyle? Is there a future beyond the sunset?
Brad took another sip, then nearly choked when he felt a splash of water from behind. He turned around in time to see a young woman climb onto the stool next to his. Brad automatically glanced over her frame, clad in a string bikini with a floral print. She looked to be about five-two and slender, with skin the color of café au lait and sun-bleached blonde hair with light brown streaks, cut into a shag style that covered her ears. Her figure was so petite that handle-with-care was the first thing that came to mind, while a posture that said don't-mess-with-me was the second.
She looked at him and offered a shy smile. “Sorry,” she said in a thick Spanish accent. “Didn’t mean to get you wet.”
Brad recovered from his initial shock and smiled. “No problem. I was getting too hot anyway. It actually felt good.”
The young woman giggled, making a pleasant sound, not nasal or forced. “You mind if I sit here?”
“Not at all.” He hesitated for a moment to summon his courage. “Would you care for a drink?”
She released a deep breath. “Yeah, that’d be nice. Whatever you’re havin’.”
Brad signaled for the bartender and ordered her drink plus a refill for himself. When they arrived, she took a long sip.
“Gracias,” she said. “You not from ‘round here, are you?”
“How can you tell?”
She gestured at his torso. “Not enough tan.”
He laughed. “Looks like you got me. I’m from up north.”
Her eyebrows arched. “Atlanta?”
“Further north than that. I’m from Ohio.”
Her face scrunched in confusion. “Not sure where that is.”
Brad eyed her for a moment. “I’m guessing you’re not from around here either.”
She shook her head. “Havana. Came here few years ago. What you do in this Ohio place?”
“Whatever it takes to survive. What do you do here?”
“Waitress at the Palm Garden. You ever been there?”
“No. Is it any good?”
She shrugged. “Not bad. Tourists sure like it, ‘specially the ones who come from the cruise ships. What’s your name?”
“Brad. What’s yours?”
“Chiquita, like the banana.”
He looked her over again. I’d like to see what she could do with a banana. “Pretty name. Are you staying here?”
She shook her head again. “I live in Olde Towne. This is my day off.”
“I thought the pool was just for hotel guests.”
She leaned in close and lowered her voice. “Supposed to be, but the bartender’s a friend. He looks the other way when I sneak in. You not gonna bust me, are you?”
Brad laughed. “What fun would that be?”
She laughed with him. “I can think of things that would be whole lot more fun.”
About the Author
Tim Smith is an award-winning, bestselling author of romantic mystery/thrillers and contemporary erotic romance. He is also a freelance writer, photographer, and blogger. When he isn’t writing he can often be found in the Florida Keys, doing research between parasailing and seeking out the perfect Mojito.