by Ali Parker
Didn’t want to carry your own bags? Then don’t bring so many. Simple.
I sat back down on the lounge chair by the pool and assumed my original position with my hands clasped behind my head. With Piper being a stranger, I had no clue how long I was going to have to wait. She might be the kind of girl who had to tie her hair up, or apply a bronzing lotion, or slap on some lip gloss—I didn’t know. All I did know was girls took a long time to get ready, even if it was for something as simple as hitting the beach for a swim.
Piper surprised me by returning within less than five minutes.
“Ready,” she said, as if demanding my attention.
I sat up and looked her over. Ready indeed.
This was a pleasant surprise. Piper James was fit. Very fit. Not just slim. She had a line carved straight down the middle of her stomach, which was quite flat. Her thighs were a little thick but in the best way, and when she moved to rest her weight on her right foot, the muscle rippled.
And her tits?
Well, they were pretty fucking spectacular. Her black string bikini offered no support, but there they were, perky and full and milky white. She didn’t have much of a tan, but we could fix that pretty quickly.
Piper arched an already-dramatic dark brow and crossed her arms over her breasts. “Like what you see, Princess?”
I snorted. So she could play, too.
All right. All right.
As I got to my feet, I completed my assessment of her. Sexy calves. Slender ankles and wrists and knees. Full thighs. Tits worthy of infinite amounts of attention. A round, firm ass. And slight definition of muscle in her lower and upper back.
“Let’s hit the beach,” I said.
Piper followed me when I turned from the pool. Her sandals struck the patio, and she kicked them off before our feet met the grass. We crossed the lawn and went down the stairs to the beach. At night, they were lined with solar lights to illuminate the way, and everything around here became a hell of a lot prettier.
When we hit the sand, Piper fell into step beside me. She didn’t look over at me or say a word. Her eyes were glued to the ocean as it lapped at the beach.
“You like the water?” I asked her.
Her gaze flicked briefly to me. “Yes, I’ve only recently seen tropical water like this. And I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of it.”
“You probably won’t. It doesn’t get old. I wake up and stare out at it every morning like clockwork. Storms can’t even ruin it.”
She looked like she was about to say something before she thought better of it and closed her mouth. I let it go as we hit the lower part of the beach, where the sand was hard, packed, and damp.
Piper strode out in front of me, letting the water hit her ankles and wrap around her as if it were hugging her. A delighted giggle bubbled out of her that surprised me.
And then I found myself hanging back, watching her wade out into the shallows.
What a curious thing.
I was usually the guy to go in headfirst, kicking up a spray as I went to splash the lady in my company. She would squeal, as per usual, and then I would drag her into the water, despite her protests, and one thing would lead to another. We’d kiss, she’d blush, and the water would rush around us like a welcome third wheel.
This was different.
Piper met the ocean with a childlike wonder. Her eyes were bright, her smile broad, and for the moment, she had completely forgotten about me. I didn’t remind her by stepping forward. I let her go, watching as she waded in up to her hips and then paused, lifted her face to the sun, and inhaled a deep breath.
Then she plunged beneath the surface.
“I have my own little mermaid,” I mused before wading out after her.
Piper broke the surface and slicked her hair back. Her eyes were closed, and I traced the line of her jaw, the swell of her lips, and the way the saltwater clung to her lashes. Maybe she was more of a marvel than I initially took her for. She moved with an effortless sort of grace that lent the thought that she might, at some point or another, have been a dancer. Or a swimmer.
She shot a look over her shoulder at me and caught me staring.
“Sorry,” I said, surprised the word even came out of my mouth. “I just don’t often get to see someone enjoy it so much.”
She arched an eyebrow again.
“The water,” I clarified.
The corner of her mouth curled in a smile. “I could live in it. You’re lucky to live here.”
I couldn’t argue with that.
I was about to swim over to her and close the distance between us when familiar voices hollered my name. Piper and I turned to face away from the beach, where three guys were swimming toward us on surfboards.
“Coop,” Mitch called, waving one hand over his head.
I waved in greeting and moved up beside Piper’s shoulder. “These are some of my friends. That there is Mitch, Luke, and on the right is Davis. We surf and dive together.”
“Dive?” she asked.
“Scuba,” I said.
“Oh. Duh.” Piper blushed and smiled at my buddies as they slowed down and rolled up beside us. I introduced them, and Piper dazzled them with a smile I hadn’t been lucky enough to get.
Or, rather, hadn’t earned.
Mitch waggled his eyebrows at Piper. “If Coop gives you a hard time and you need to get away, just come find me, all right?”
“You?” Luke scoffed. “If she’s fleeing Coop, it’s because she’s trying to get away from the testosterone and ego. You’re the last person she should go to. Piper, I’m your man.”
Piper laughed softly. “I assure you, if it gets to that point, the only place I’ll be going is a hotel. But thank you.”
“Wise,” Davis said. “For real though. If he’s an ass, you don’t have to put up with him.”
“If?” Mitch mused.
Piper looked back and forth between them with an amused grin.
“He’s not as bad as he pretends to be,” Luke said in my favor.
Piper looked over her shoulder at me. “Did you pay them to say this?”
I shook my head. “This is all of their own volition. Possibly to embarrass me. But they forget. I don’t get embarrassed.”
“Of course, you don’t,” Piper said, nodding slowly. She turned back toward my friends. “I appreciate your concern. But I think I can handle it.”
I grinned. “Confident. I like it.”
Piper didn’t look back at me. Instead, she spoke to the men looking adoringly at her from their surfboards. “I work in food service. I can handle any asshole of any shape or size, so long as I’ve had my morning cup of coffee.”
Oh yes.
This month was going to be fun indeed.
CHAPTER 5
PIPER
My room at Cooper’s mansion was so big, it had an echo.
It was unsettling. The space was minimally decorated in the way ultra-modern interior-design magazines were. The walls were such a light shade of blue that they almost looked white. The bed was high with no headboard. A massive picture of the beach hung on the wall above the pillows. It was pretty, soft, and soothing, but not at all cozy, which was my preference.
The white floors were polished marble or granite. I couldn’t tell. Either way, they were white, shiny, and cool against the soles of my bare feet. Heavy white blinds were drawn to keep the early evening sun out, and I drew them up to unveil the view of the beach down below.
It had become immensely more crowded since Cooper and I came back up from the water. Apparently, he was hosting a party tonight, which in my opinion was insensitive timing. I was already overwhelmed with meeting him, and this house, and how entitled he was. Having to spend a night with a bunch of strangers down at his pool party was not my idea of a first evening of settling in.
It was a social nightmare, but I wasn’t going to start this month being the girl who locked herself up in her room and hid from the party. No way.
I
stripped out of my black string bikini, took a shower, and spent the next hour and a half pulling out all the stops to show Cooper Diaz I wasn’t just this sweet, innocent damsel who’d arrived on his doorstep wide eyed and clueless.
The sun had dipped down to meet the horizon by the time I finished getting ready. My room was painted a warm purple-pink color from the sunset, and I’d dressed to match it: a tight purple dress, sparkly, gold, strappy heels, and minimal summery makeup. Bronzer, highlight, dark pink lips, dramatic lashes. Simple but fun. Light and breezy but a little sexy.
When I left my room and made my way down the winding glass staircase to the lower level, my stomach tightened into a knot. Big parties like this put me on edge, especially when I didn’t know anyone.
If Cooper and I had made a connection and been a couple weeks into July, I probably wouldn’t have been nervous. I might have even looked forward to it. But as it was, I was shaking like a leaf, with sweaty palms and a racing heart.
This. Sucks.
The music thrummed through the house from the back patio as I approached the sliding-glass patio doors. I stepped out into the warm Bahamas evening and breathed in deeply. It smelled like orchids and pineapples out there. Tropical, sweet, and fresh.
My moment of sweet reprieve was shattered when Cooper sauntered over to me, weaving between two girls in bikinis lingering at the edge of his pool. He had a drink in each hand, garnished with a neon-pink umbrella, and he pushed one toward me.
“For the lady.” He grinned.
I sniffed the drink. “Whoa. How strong is this?”
“Julio doesn’t measure shots. He’s a free pourer. Once the first one goes down, you’ll be fine.”
I looked to the bar, where the so-called Julio was spinning and flipping martini shakers and soaking up the attention the girls around his bar were giving him.
I frowned at my drink before pursing my lips to the straw and taking a tiny, slow sip. The strength of the booze nearly scalded my tongue, and I winced as it went down my throat. “Gross.”
Cooper laughed. “Like I said. The second is better.”
It tasted awful, but once I got it down, I knew socializing would become easier. So I sipped it back, lips puckered, tongue burning, the inside of my cheeks itching, and willed the alcohol to kick in sooner rather than later.
“Thatta girl,” Cooper said before tilting his head back to polish off his own drink.
I hated that I couldn’t look away from the line of his jaw as he swallowed. Or his Adam’s apple. Or the way a little bit of his drink trickled from the corner of his mouth down his chin. He wiped it away with the back of his hand before turning toward the pool and throwing his arms out wide.
“So, what do you think? Good place to spend the month, huh?”
I would have liked it better if there weren’t a hundred and fifty people filling the pool and milling across the property. “Is this a typical Monday night for you?”
He shrugged. “To be honest, I never really know what day of the week it is. I do what I want, when I want, and tonight, I want to party.”
Some girls might find his fuck-all-responsibilities attitude attractive. I, however, found it to be a massive turn off.
I finished my drink.
Cooper slapped his hands together before rubbing them briskly, his palms whispering with enthusiasm. “I didn’t expect this.”
“I’m self-medicating.”
His mouth quirked in a devilishly charming smile that I was sure had gotten many beautiful ladies into his bed. “Whatever works, babe.”
“Stop calling me ‘babe’.”
Cooper’s smile stretched. “Why?”
“Because I asked you to.”
“All right. Fine. Just don’t go calling me by any pet names when you fall for me, Piper James.” Cooper winked and plucked my empty cup out of my hand. Had I not been so irked by his obscene ego, I might have had a snappy comeback. But I was irked. And I had no snappy comeback.
I watched as he wandered off toward the bar with our empty cups in hand and decided I wasn’t going to stand around in the same spot and wait for him to come find me again. I was going to mingle. And with any luck, I’d find someone who was far more tolerable than Cooper Diaz that I could waste away the evening with.
It was a good thought. However, after milling around the party for about fifteen minutes, I realized how difficult of a task I had assigned myself.
Everyone at his house was tanned, beautiful, drunk, and nearly as infatuated with their reflections and the sound of their own voices as Cooper was.
You could just go up to your room and lock your door and read, I thought as I leaned up against the side of the house to watch people diving into the pool. Their bodies danced in the reflection of the lights under the water. It looked beautiful. Magical almost.
If the whole yard had not been blaring with loud music and laughter, it might have almost been a romantic setting.
I was about to turn in for the night when a familiar face appeared at my right shoulder. I glanced over at Mitch, the blond surfer friend of Cooper’s, and offered him the best smile I could manage. Apparently, it wasn’t a very good one because Mitch chuckled at my expense.
“Sorry you’re not having a good time,” he said.
I sighed and crossed my arms. “It’s not that bad.”
“Don’t lie. You hate this. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
Was he testing me? Had Cooper sent him over to get the lay of the land? Even if he was only here with good intentions, I didn’t trust him farther than I could throw him.
Which was nowhere. Because he had at least a hundred and fifty pounds of muscle on me.
“It’s really not that bad,” I said. “It’s just a lot for my first night here, is all. I’m a pretty low-key person. I like quiet nights in. Not loud parties with girls snorting cocaine in the kitchen. You know?”
Mitch pressed his shoulder blades to the back wall of the house and nodded knowingly. His blue eyes slid across the backyard and lingered for a moment on Cooper, who was presently having tequila poured into his open mouth as he leaned backward over the bar. Two girls were fawning on either side of him, running their hands over his chest and stomach.
“I can see how this wouldn’t be everyone’s cup of tea,” Mitch said.
“But it’s yours?”
“When the mood strikes? Sure.”
“And when it doesn’t?”
Mitch chuckled. “Then it doesn’t. And I don’t have to come. My place is just down the beach. I can walk home when I get bored.” He shot me a look as I shifted my weight to my other foot beside him and let out a disgruntled sigh. Cooper was now up on the bar, pouring the tequila into the mouths of the girls who were clearly obsessed with him. “I bet you wish you had that luxury right now.”
“Of being able to go home?”
Mitch nodded.
I chewed the inside of my cheek. “Yeah, I do. Lucky for me, I have a bedroom upstairs all to myself and far away from this shit. Have a good night, Mitch. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”
He didn’t stop me from leaving. Instead, he wished me a good night in an apologetic voice and slipped away to rejoin the party, and I made to leave it. I had to duck past three young women sipping champagne by the back sliding doors, and they gave me curious but not all too friendly looks as I went inside and drew the door closed behind me.
In the kitchen were a half-dozen other people talking loudly and over each other about something I couldn’t make out and didn’t care to. I kept my head down and marched past them, through the living room where other people had gathered, and across the foyer’s sand-covered floor. People must have been tracking it in all night long.
My shoes clicked on the glass stairs as I climbed up to the second level and went to my bedroom door.
As soon as I pushed it open, I was filled with regret.
There were people fucking in my bed.
“Hey!” I bellowed, slamming a hand flat
against the wall to make a loud smack.
Startled, the people in the bed—my bed—sat bolt upright with startled expressions. The woman pulled my sheets up over her breasts and let out a shrill gasp as she scowled at me.
I pointed an accusing finger at her. “Don’t give me that look. This is my bedroom. Get the hell out!”
The man scrambled out of the bed and hid his nakedness behind both hands. I glowered at them as they collected their clothes, and I didn’t give them space to leave. I made them squeeze past me. The woman muttered about how much of a bitch I was before she ducked into one of the bathrooms in the hall to get changed. The man followed her in, and I imagined they picked up right where they’d left off.
I closed and locked my door behind me and slumped against it. My messed-up sheets taunted me.
Was this how the month was going to go?
With an irritated growl, I went to the closet in search of fresh bedding. There were no extra sheets, but there were blankets, so I stripped the bed, crammed the sheets into one corner of the room, and draped one of the blankets over the mattress for me to lay on. I took the pillowcases off and concluded that they were fine to sleep on. I’d get new cases in the morning.
After brushing my teeth and taking off my makeup, I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling above, wishing I was anywhere but here.
Like Aaron’s loft.
Or Wyatt’s ranch. I could sit on the porch and listen to the crickets until I forgot all about Cooper and Nassau.
Being with Jeremiah in Port Orchard would be lovely too, surrounded by the rich aroma of pine and cedar and earth.
Or in Quebec City with Joshua, sampling Canadian delicacies while we walked the cobblestone city streets.
I could be with Miles. Or Easton, even.
Anything would be better than here. And I still had a whole month ahead of me.
I rolled onto my side and tucked my hand under my pillow. If things got worse, I could call Jackson Lee and ask him to pull me out of this. He’d fly me back to New York City, and I could go home. Although home didn’t seem much better. Things were strained. Tense.
