Cocktails on the Beach

by Helen Hardt

  I love my life.

  Right. Let her go, Scotty. Let. Her. Go.

  I grip her shoulders and kiss her again.

  9

  Emily

  His lips are so firm on mine, and again, I want to give in to the kiss, let him take me away and forget everything I’m dealing with.

  His tongue tangles with mine as he deepens the kiss, and a raw growl emanates from his chest into mine.

  How easy it would be to allow this… To fully escape the ties that bind me to LA.

  To Lucifer Raven.

  What if Buck can’t stop him?

  What if he finds me?

  Buck has the Wolfes behind him, But Lucifer…

  Lucifer has his father’s money—not Wolfe money by a long shot, but still enough to do as he chooses. And Lucifer has something that Buck and the Wolfes don’t have.

  He’s obsessed with me.

  He’ll do anything to get me back.

  All my energy is required to push Scotty away. Our kiss breaks with a pop of suction.

  His green-gold eyes are burning. On fire, even. They pierce me, and I swear I can feel the scorch on my flesh.

  “Em…” he growls.

  “I’m sorry, Scotty. I’m so sorry.” I turn and run away from him.

  Or attempt to. Running on sand is difficult. I should be used to it, being from LA beach country, but I nearly stumble.

  Scotty catches up to me, grabs my shoulders again, and whips me around to face him.

  “Em,” he says, “you’ve got to let me help you.”

  “You can’t help me.” I wipe what might turn into a tear away from my eye. “No one can.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  I look to the sky, dragging my fingers through my tangled hair. “God, I wish I were!”

  He cups my cheek, rubbing his thumb over my bottom lip again. Just his touch sends me reeling. Such a loving touch—a touch meant to spark desire in me.

  It does that and more.

  “What if I stop the lothario routine,” he says. “What if I take you to my place and we talk. Just talk.”

  I can’t help myself. I roll my eyes. “You’ve been coming on to me all evening, and you think I’m going to fall for the ‘let’s just talk’ line? I’m not that innocent or gullible, Scotty.”

  He gazes at me, and his eyes—those gorgeous eyes—narrow slightly. Only slightly, and his lips curve downward.

  Is he upset? Upset that he won’t be bedding me, most likely.

  “Em,” he says, “it’s not a line. I want to help, but it’s clear that you don’t want my help. I’ll walk you back to your hut.”

  “It’s okay,” I say. “Please. I don’t want to be any more of a spectacle than I’ve already made myself.” I walk off the beach and onto the boardwalk that leads to the colonists’ huts.

  I don’t expect him to follow me. It’s still light out, and this place is safe anyway.

  At least until Lucifer finds me.

  I get to my hut and unlock the door. As I walk in, I look over my shoulder.

  Scotty is ten feet away.

  He did follow me. He sure was quiet about it. It was sweet, too, for him to make sure I got back safely while honoring my request not to be a spectacle.

  Walking with the best-looking man on this island would definitely make me a spectacle.

  Being a spectacle is not a good way to stay invisible.

  Not a good way at all.

  Buck taught me how to pick locks when I was sixteen. He’s six years older than I am, and he’d just returned from Navy SEAL training. I remember being surprised at how simple it was.

  “Practice,” Buck said. “Practice a lot until it’s second nature to you. You never know when you might need the skill.” He gave me a lock-picking wrench before he left for his first assignment.

  I no longer had the lock-picking kit. I lost it on the beach one day when I was showing it to a friend. Just as well. If I’d had it when I hooked up with Lucifer, he’d have found it when he confiscated all my stuff. Then he’d have known I could pick locks.

  That’s how I escaped from Lucifer.

  It was simple luck that he forgot to turn the deadbolt that day. I’d stolen a couple paperclips from a pile of documents several weeks earlier, and I’d pretty much given up hope.

  Until that day.

  That day when he forgot to lock the deadbolt.

  I knew as soon as he left.

  The soft click of the lock on the doorknob, and then the louder click of the deadbolt.

  Only the soft click that day.

  The lock I could easily pick.

  I waited a few minutes. I had to make sure he was gone. But after twenty minutes passed, I didn’t dare wait any longer. I had no idea when he’d come back, and I wanted to be long gone by then.

  I straightened the paperclips each into one long wire and began.

  I inserted one wire into the bottom of the keyhole and applied a little pressure. The other went in at the top of the keyhole. I scrubbed the top wire back and forth while I applied more pressure. My heart jumped when the first pin clicked into place.

  Ten minutes later, I turned the doorknob.

  I was familiar with Lucifer’s place. It was a beachfront house on a private beach with lots of security.

  Security wasn’t a problem for me either. I’d spent the last several weeks studying the system. Lucifer never let me watch when he keyed in the code, but each number had a certain sound. I’d memorized the sounds and the position of his hands.

  Yeah, that’s how badly I wanted out of there.

  This man.

  This man who, when I met him, I thought could be the one.

  He was gorgeous and brilliant and rich.

  He was also domineering and arrogant and tyrannical.

  He was born into money, but once I got deep into his world, I found out he didn’t depend on family money.

  Lucifer made his money in drugs.

  The underground drug trade on the streets of LA.

  Once I knew too much, he started locking me up.

  “It’s because I love you,” he’d say. “I want to keep you safe.”

  I believed him at first. Actually believed him! I was clouded by lust and by love.

  Once he realized he could control me, he became even more autocratic.

  Though he denied it, I was essentially his slave.

  Now, I was free!

  I disarmed the security system and left the house.

  I left the house!

  The first time I’d left the place without Lucifer since I moved in over a year prior.

  I had no phone, no money, and only the clothes on my back.

  But I had the will. The will to escape.

  I also knew how to get off the property without being seen. I’d studied the video feeds Lucifer kept.

  I knew how to get off his property undetected.

  Once I was safely off his land, I found a crowded beach where no one would recognize me.

  A lovely woman with two kids lounged near the lifeguard.

  “Excuse me, ma’am. I’m so sorry, but my purse got stolen, and I need to call my brother to come get me. Could I borrow your phone?”

  “Of course.” She smiled and handed me her cell phone.

  “Thank you. I’ll only be a minute.” I walked away so I could talk in private.

  One call.

  To Buck.

  That’s all it took.

  Three hours later, I was on a plane to Wolfe Island.

  10

  Scotty

  I followed her.

  This island is safe, but still… She’s so scared of something or someone, so I wanted to make sure she got to her hut safely.

  Damn.

  Horny and off the clock. Not such a problem when you’re on an island of lovelies.

  Except only one woman invades my mind.

  Em, with her long dark hair, her searing brown eyes, her milky skin.

  Normally I’d h
ang at the beach or at the bar, people watching, conversing, probably picking up a woman. Usually a staffer. Bedding the art colonists is pretty frowned upon, though I’ll admit I’ve done it a time or two. Or three.

  My buddy Lyle is tending bar, so I pony up and take the last available stool next to Nemo, our server from the burger bar. He and Lyle are also my roommates. Well, not roommates so much as suitemates. Staffers share huts, but we each have our own bedroom, which is cool. I’m four years out of college and totally over the “hang a sock on the door if you’ve got a girl inside” days.

  Lyle’s a blond surfer boy from LA but Nemo’s half Hawaiian like I am. He looks the part more than I do, though—black hair and dark brown eyes, tan skin. I got my dad’s hazel eyes and slightly fairer skin. The three of us have kind of become known among the staffers as the Island lotharios, to use Em’s word.

  “You too, Scotty?” Lyle says, sliding an ice water in front of me. “What are the two most eligible beach bums doing here at the bar when you could be hooking up? What happened to that gorgeous hunkette you were with when you got off duty?”

  “She’s tired. Went back to her hut.”

  Lyle erupts into boisterous laughter. “You couldn’t seal the deal, huh?”

  “You mean the chick you had dinner with?” Nemo asks. “Man, she’s a hottie.”

  A hottie? A hunkette? Words I’ve used to describe women many times, but coming from the mouths of Lyle and Nemo, they seem immature and patronizing. I vow never to use them again.

  “She’s got class,” I say.

  “Too much class to hook up with the likes of you, huh?” Nemo punches my upper arm.

  I love these guys, I do, but man, are hookups all they think about?

  I can’t escape the irony of my thought.

  Hookups are all I thought about until this evening. In fact, I was damned determined to get Em between the sheets.

  I let her go.

  Sure, I can say it was her obvious baggage, and that’s probably part of it.

  But it’s way more than that.

  I let her needs take precedence over my own. She wasn’t ready to be with me, so I let her go. I didn’t press her. Normally, I press a little more. I never force a woman, of course, but I can be very persuasive.

  “Her name’s—” I stop.

  She’s hiding. She probably doesn’t want her name spread everywhere.

  “What?” Nemo asks. “What’s her name?”

  “She wouldn’t tell me.”

  “Easy enough to find out. I can get the guest list from Manuel. Which hut is she in?”

  For God’s sake. He’s right. Any staffer can find out who she is. “Emily,” I say. “Her name’s Emily. And the two of you keep your hands to yourselves.”

  “Why the ‘she wouldn’t tell me’ thing, then?” Nemo asks.

  “She’s trying to keep to herself,” I say. “I don’t want you guys bugging her.”

  “Dude,” Lyle says, “if you like her, we’ll stay away. Buddies’ rule book and all. Bros before hoes.”

  “Would you stop saying that?” I give him an evil eye. “It’s degrading.”

  “I gotta agree, Lyle,” Nemo adds.

  “Okay, okay.” Lyle straightens his posture. “Buds before chicks. Is that better?”

  “Slightly,” I say. “Not really.”

  “You’ve got it bad,” Lyle says, mixing a drink for a colonist. “Friends before women. Does that work for you?”

  I take a sip of water. “I do like her. Thanks.”

  “I’m off in thirty,” Lyle says. “Siri and Angel are having a beach party on the staffer beach. Somehow they got their hands on a couple kegs. We should go.”

  “That’s where I’m headed,” Nemo agrees.

  “A kegger, guys? Really?” I shake my head.

  “Since when are you too good for a kegger?”

  “I’m not. It’s just…”

  “It’s just your fantasy woman won’t be there,” Nemo says. “Am I right?”

  “So invite her,” Lyle says.

  “To a staff party? I don’t think so. I don’t need to get my ass fired for fraternizing.”

  “You already had dinner with her,” Nemo reminds me.

  Good point. We’re actually supposed to mingle with the guests. It’s encouraged. Roy and Charlie Wolfe want this place to seem like a home away from home for the artists. A place where they can study their craft and also have a luxury island experience. Meet people, know the staff members who are helping to make their stay comfortable.

  No one brings colonists to the staff parties, though.

  “Nah,” I say. “I’ll bach it with you two tonight.”

  Siri Campbell and Angel Akina are lifeguards at the beach. Excellent swimmers, both of them, so they have rocking bodies. We call them night and day. Siri was born in Jamaica and has gorgeous dark skin and hair, and Angel, despite her Hawaiian last name, is blond and fair.

  And of course they’re both knockouts.

  Lyle and Nemo have sampled Siri and Angel, respectively.

  I haven’t yet had the pleasure.

  Siri, clad in a white bikini that accentuates her gorgeous brown skin, is the first to welcome me.

  “Scotty!” She grabs me in a hug and shoves a red plastic cup containing beer in my hand. “Good to see you!”

  “You see me every day, Siri.”

  “Yeah,” she laughs, “and it’s always good! Welcome to our kegger!”

  “Thanks.”

  “I can’t believe Angel got her hands on these kegs,” Siri continues. “Her cousin is a distributor, and he sneaked a few extra into the last shipment.”

  “Lucky break,” I say.

  “Isn’t it?” She gulps a swallow of beer. “Have a good time!” She flits away and joins another group of staffers.

  I watch her. Siri Campbell has the best ass on the beach.

  Except maybe for Emily’s ass, which I’ve only seen with a wet skirt clinging to it.

  It was fine.

  Lyle and Nemo are already in party mode and making the rounds. Normally I’d be with them, but something holds me back tonight.

  Not something so much as someone.

  Within two minutes, though, Nemo finds me and drags me into the circle where he and Lyle are holding court with a bevy of female staffers, Lauren Suvac among them. Lauren’s another bartender, and she and I hooked up once. Nothing serious. She’s a gorgeous blonde with massive tits and a cute spray of freckles across her nose.

  “Hey, Scotty.” She puts her hand in mine. “How’s it hanging tonight?”

  “Good, Laur. How about you?”

  “Feeling kind of lonely.” She squeezes my hand. “And horny.”

  Yeah. Normally I’d be all over that. Lauren’s great, because she was an anthropology major in college. She doesn’t believe in monogamy. “There’s just no science to support it,” she told me once. “Most mammalian species never form monogamous relationships. They have different partners for different times in their lives.”

  Yeah. I kissed her to get her to shut up.

  Funny.

  Monogamy doesn’t sound quite so bad to me tonight.

  “You interested?” She tugs on my hand.

  “Maybe later.” I kiss her cheek quickly. “Want to take a swim?”

  “Sure! Last one in the water’s a rotten egg!” She peels off her fire-engine red one piece and runs into the ocean in her birthday suit.

  So it’s that kind of party, huh? I disrobe quickly as well and follow her into the water. It’s warm, and the sun has fallen below the horizon, casting a blue veil over everything. Lauren’s huge tits float on the water and draw my gaze.

  But…

  Been there, done that.

  I dive under for a minute, let the water cover my body. When I reappear, Lauren has set her sights on Nemo, who’s joined us in the water.

  Just as well. Nemo needs to get laid, and Lauren’s a sure thing.

  I, on the other hand?
>
  I don’t need to get laid. However, I desperately want to get laid. By Emily Moreno.

  I get out of the water and grab a towel from the stack Siri and Angel provided. I dry off my hair, wrap the towel around my waist, and go in search of my clothes.

  Siri grabs one of my butt cheeks. “Best ass on the beach, Scotty.”

  “Yours is better.”

  She laughs. “Lyle took an informal poll at the bar tonight. You won best guy ass and I won best girl ass.”

  “I can’t find any fault with those results.”

  “You want to roast marshmallows?” Siri asks. “We started a small bonfire. Got everything for s’mores.”

  “Sure. What the hell?” I hastily get back into my shorts and island shirt and follow Siri to the small fire.

  We’re allowed to have a bonfire, but only in this one location on the staffers’ beach. The Wolfes are great to all of us. Our own private beach, great living quarters, all food and drink included. I guess that makes up for the meager pay. No tips, either. It’s forbidden. The artists are here to create, not go broke. Roy Wolfe’s words. Of course, a few of them still tip. Lyle and I learned quickly who they were and we give them extra special service.

  Still we make enough to get by and put a few bucks each check into savings. With shelter, food, and drink included here, it’s an amazing deal. I was lucky I got hired on Wolfe Island. I take a roasting fork and load it with two marshmallows. Angel and Lyle are among the others around the small fire. Siri and I join them.

  “You got any dark chocolate?” I ask Siri.

  “Sure thing. I remember you don’t eat Hershey’s.”

  “Tastes like sour milk to me,” I say.

  “I got you some Special Dark.”

  “You’re awesome!” I give Siri a kiss on her smooth cheek.

  Funny. I’ve kissed two women’s cheeks tonight. Lauren and Siri. And I felt nothing. Not even a slight stir downstairs.

  I’m off my game.

  Except I know I’m not.

  I’m on my game. Totally on it.

  I just have my sights set on another woman.

  Once my marshmallows are brown but not burnt, I move them from the fire and slide them onto a graham cracker along with a square of dark chocolate. I top it with another graham cracker, and just as I’m about to shove it into my mouth—