Spiked Lemonade: A Bad Boy Sailor and a Good Girl Romantic Comedy Standalone

Home > Other > Spiked Lemonade: A Bad Boy Sailor and a Good Girl Romantic Comedy Standalone > Page 28
Spiked Lemonade: A Bad Boy Sailor and a Good Girl Romantic Comedy Standalone Page 28

by Ryan, Shari J.


  “This beautiful girl by my side. I could never forget…the way you look in that dress tonight,” Jags whispers into my ear. “I never could forget…the way you’re lookin’ at me tonight.”

  I press up on my toes, bringing my lips close to his ear as the song ends. “I love you,” I whisper.

  He pushes me away a little again and looks into my eyes. “I knew if you thought about saying that to me last year, I wouldn’t want to hear it until this very minute because now I know you mean it. I knew waiting for you would be worth it.”

  We spend the next, I don’t even know how many minutes, dancing slow to fast songs, and I’m falling a little harder for this man who I missed more than I thought a person could be missed.

  “So,” he says, grinning down at me.

  “So,” I reply.

  “I’m glad you came early.”

  “Me too,” I tell him.

  “If you had waited two more weeks, I would have shown up with flowers at your front door in Boston.”

  I look up at him, waiting for more of an explanation. I don’t understand.

  “I’m ah…I’m getting transferred to Rhode Island in a few weeks.” Such a simple statement for something insanely crazy to comprehend. “And I’m pretty sure that’s a little closer to Boston than Texas is. Right?” His expression is serious and his embrace tightens. And this is for real.

  “Wait, what? And why are you dressed like that?” I got so swept up in this moment, I forgot to ask this pretty important and scary question.

  “Don’t freak out, okay?” he says.

  I’m trying not to freak out but I’m so baffled. “Okay…”

  “Well, I know you talked to Bambi today, and she told you I was at the hospital. The reason for that was because I was working my shift there.”

  “I don’t understand—” His shift. Is he…?

  “I re-enlisted…but I won’t be deployed or anything. I’m going to remain a corpsman stateside, and there happens to be a clinic in Newport, Rhode Island, where they have a slot for me.”

  “You’re moving to Rhode Island?” I ask, needing to hear him spell it out.

  “Yeah, and I know I said all that bullshit about giving you your space to find yourself and shit but, damn girl, you’ve found yourself. At least I think you have. And I told you when you found yourself, I’d be there waiting. So, here I am.”

  “Well, technically…here I am,” I laugh. “Wow. I don’t know what to say…” Mainly because I have so many questions. “So, what about Greta? You’re going to leave her? I figured…she knows your real name and…” you told me you haven’t ever told anyone but me. I know I shouldn’t be concerned about that, but I need to know.

  “She knows my name because I pay her rent by a check every month. The banks frown upon call-signs being used as a birth name so she had to know,” he says through soft laughter. I feel silly for thinking anything else, and it’s a perfectly understandable reason. “Anyway, Bambi has a long road ahead of her with her niece, and I think they need to work that out on their own. I know you wouldn’t believe it if I told you, but Greta’s even dating some dude she met at the shop, so it’s most definitely time for me to move on out.” This is like music to my ears.

  “That’s so great. I’m so happy to hear that.”

  “Oh give me a break…you’re just relieved to hear I’m not sleeping with her,” he says, pinching my cheek. “I know you, doll-face, whether you like it or not. I knew what you were thinking all year. I wouldn’t do that to you, just for your information.” But we weren’t together. He had no obligations to keep my feelings from being hurt. I did the same for him, though.

  All I can do is smile up at his beautiful face and thank him silently for waiting for me.

  “I was thinking…if you are, in fact, done with finding yourself, which you have neither confirmed nor denied yet, we could possibly…maybe…kind of rent an apartment in Providence since that’s in between Boston and Newport. Or whenever your lease is up with your current place. But if I’m assuming too much, and you don’t want this, or you have some hot Bostonian waiting for you at home, I totally get it.” He runs out of breath through his words, as if he’s nervous to ask or say any of this, and while I’m not responding, I’m loving every word that is coming from his mouth. “If it’s just too soon, I get that too, and I can get my own place. Just throwing it out there for you to think about.” Rushing it…the thought makes me laugh. This is all I’ve wanted all year. It’s why I had to fly home early. To wake up next to this man every morning, in his tight grip, it’s all I want.

  “My mom has been living with me…so she could find herself too. She found herself a new man, so I’ve been living with that, and I think moving on to the next city with you would be the best thing for all parties involved. Especially me.”

  “Then that’s that,” he says.

  “We’re doing this?” I question again.

  “Yes, we’re really doing it. But first…”

  The next song blasts between narrow walls in the bar and Jags starts belting words out at the top of his lungs, “Never gonna give you up. Never gonna let you down.” Never Gonna Give You Up by Rick Astley, the perfect interruption to our life-changing decision.

  “I’m not too kind to see…” I tell him.

  “I’m never going to say to try…” he tells me.

  “I’m never going to make you go down…” I continue.

  “Did you just kind of Rick Roll each other with screwed-up lyrics?” Tango butts in. “You two are the lamest people I’ve ever met in my entire life, and this is exactly why I knew you belonged together from the moment you both met.” Tango slaps his hands down over both of our shoulders and pulls us both in for a hug.

  With a beer in his hand, he holds it up to his lips. “Man, this is for us,” Tango says in a deep voice.

  The next song comes on from Bon Jovi—You Give Love a Bad Name, and I already know where this is going. Not surprised in the least.

  I give the two of them a little space because I’m not drunk enough to be a part of this, and I need to sit back and just watch this show happen. Everyone’s attention is turned to them, and this is just amazing. Do they do this often?

  “Shot through my heart…and you girls are to blame!” Jags shouts with his eyes clenched shut and his head thrown back.

  “Ladies, you give love some bad names,” Tango follows in a deep, raspy voice with his eyes wide as a leans forward into his make-shift mic.

  “No one can even save me…” Jags follows, already sounding breathless. “Except Miss Piggy.” He looks over and winks at me. Mortified!

  “The damage has been done,” Tango shouts, pointing over to Cali and me.

  We’re laughing, and the entire bar joins in singing along with these two goofs.

  Maybe I found myself this last year, but this is where I belong, whether in Texas, Massachusetts, or Rhode Island. It’s not the place that’s defining who I am. It’s the people I’m with.

  Cali stands up beside me and hands me a small shooter of what I think is Jack, then clinks her glass against mine. “To our two wild and crazy guys.”

  “Cheers,” I tell her, downing the shot with one swig.

  Jags notices my shot-shooting action and stops singing to join me. “That whisky, your mouth…that’s hot. So dirty,” he growls softly. “I told you beauty came with a dirty mouth.”

  His words make me laugh a little, and I place my shot glass down on the bar behind me. “You think whisky makes my mouth dirty?” I ask him pointedly. “Because…I kind of think you’re fucking right. This shit can make a cock start talking.”

  Jags’s jaw falls open, and he clutches his hand over his chest. “Holy crap, girl. Now this is true love, and you are officially a hot-looking glass of spiked lemonade.”

  EPILOGUE

  A FUCKING AWESOME YEAR LATER

  JAGS

  I SAW SO much shit fighting in wars, p
eeling limbs off the ground, and covering dead bodies with tarps, that I thought the meaning of helping people was giving them the proper time-of-death readings. It turns out there’s more to a medic’s job than just death and crap. Working with these folks in Newport has given me a new outlook. I got to help people when they were at their worst when they didn’t know if there would be a tomorrow. Here, I get to see their tomorrows and their futures unraveling more than I see the endings. My help is making a difference, and it’s what I wanted to do with my life.

  Cars were bred into me by Pops, and while I still love getting my hands dirty with those women, this is where I belong. It took a lot of blood, guts, and a beautiful blonde Southern belle type of woman to prove that.

  Sasha switched jobs a few months back. She’s now working as a manager for one of the top-rated restaurants on the water here in Newport. I’ve even learned to wear a polo shirt correctly, and it’s not so bad, I guess.

  We spend our nights sitting on our deck over the water, sipping on our favorite drink, Jack and lemonade. Who would have known the two mix together so well?

  I like to think we met somewhere in the middle of our crazy lives. I’ve toned it down, or shaved, I guess…and she’s spiced things up and says fuck, cock, and shithead sometimes. It’s hot. It’s our foreplay. She even got a tattoo on her ass.

  “Jags,” she says, nudging me with her toe as we relax on our deck chairs. “Are you daydreaming about that tattoo again?”

  I laugh. “How did you know?”

  “You lick your lips and get this stupid grin every time you ask me about it.”

  “Wow,” I laugh. “Didn’t realize I was so transparent. So, what do you say?”

  “I’m still not getting it,” she says, grinning as she takes another sip of her drink. “Because…I already got it.”

  “Say what?” I jerk upright. “What are you saying to me, doll-face?”

  Sasha places her drink down on the side table and stands up to face me. Her leg lifts and straddles over my lap as she loosens the strap of her skimpy tank top, letting it fall from her shoulder. With a small tug on the neckline of her shirt, she exposes a small tattoo of a glass of lemonade. “I didn’t want to forget who I was or where I came from.”

  “So should I get a bottle of Jack inked on me?” I ask, admiring the artwork and the part of her tit she’s exposing.

  “Jags…” she says with a raised brow. Lifting my shirt up to my rib, she presses her finger down on a spot. “You already have a bottle of Jack tattooed right here.”

  I laugh because I honestly forgot. I guess maybe there’s a chance I have too many tattoos.

  With my arms wrapped around her neck, I pull her into me, knowing I won’t ever get tired of this. “I hate that we missed out on a year, but I wouldn’t give this up for anything in the world,” I tell her.

  She places her head on my shoulder and traces her fingers up the side of my face, along the clean shaven skin I’m still getting used to. “We never would have ended up here, like this, if we didn’t have that year apart. We found ourselves within each other. I think that’s a pretty perfect ending.”

  “Is it like a happy ending?” I can’t help but ask. “And I love that I found myself within you…trust me.”

  “A happy ending? We can make it that way,” she grins against my lips.

  “I’m so excited, I just can’t hideeeee it,” I sing to her, knowing I don’t need to spell it out. She knows I can’t hide it. She can feel it.

  In her heart, I mean.

  Get your mind out of the gutter.

  The End

  SHARI & LISA’S SPIKED LEMONADE

  2 shots of Jack Daniels

  1/2 shot of coconut rum

  1 cup of lemonade

  1 splash of vanilla schnapps

  1 splash lemon juice or cranberry juice

  5-7 mint leaves, muddled

  1 sprinkle of nutmeg, for garnish (optional)

  cherry, for garnish (optional)

  Muddle mint in the two shots of Jack Daniels. Add ice. Stir in coconut rum, vanilla schnapps, lemon or cranberry juice, and lemonade. Shake well, then garnish with nutmeg for a bit of spice, and to make it dirty. Add cherry and enjoy!

  *Best when stirred well and then shaken…hard.

  PLAYLIST

  I’m So Excited - The Pointer Sisters (mentioned in book)

  Don’t Stop Believin’ - Journey (mentioned in book)

  You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin’ - The Righteous Brothers (mentioned in book)

  Red Red Wine - UB40 (mentioned in book)

  You Give Love A Bad Name - Bon Jovi (mentioned in book)

  Never Gonna Give You Up - Rick Astley

  Vacation - Thomas Rhett

  Girls in Bikinis - Lee Brice

  Move - Luke Bryan

  Southern Belle - Scotty McCreery

  Oklahoma-Texas Line - Rascall Flatts

  WANT MORE?

  Don’t miss Cali and Tango’s story in TAG.

  What if your family had a big secret … a life changing secret. My dad, the bigwig CIA agent, was always on the run, whether he was being chased or doing the chasing. I missed him. Then my mom passed away, and my sister was murdered. I turned my solitude to strength because the alternative was too bleak.

  But my luck seemed to turn: I met Tango. And while I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my twenty-two years, danger lurks around every corner and I simply can’t take the chance of it finding me. But his tattoos, his smell, his darkness, and his body— that marine has taken over my every thought. But, what if he too isn’t what I think? A ticking time bomb isn’t going to leave me much time to waver. Even the bravest person can be in need of a miracle.

  Before she was gone, my mom warned me to know everyone and trust no one. But what was I supposed to do when I found out I am the one not to be trusted? Turns out, I was always the bait in this conspiracy.

  In author Shari J. Ryan’s New Adult novel, TAG, the canyons hold secrets, the waterfalls provide safety, and romance has a pesky way of showing up when you are sweaty and dirty and least expect it.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  International Bestselling Author, Shari J. Ryan, hails from Central Massachusetts where she lives with her husband and two lively little boys. Shari has always had an active imagination and enjoys losing herself in the fictional worlds she creates.

  When Shari isn’t writing or designing book covers, she can usually be found cleaning toys up off the floor.

  To learn more, visit her at: http://sharijryan.com, facebook.com/authorsharijryan, or twitter.com/sharijryan

  SHARI’S OTHER BOOKS

  A Heart of Time

  Ravel

  No Way Out

  Red Nights

  TAG

  You’re It

  Schasm

  Fissure Free

  When Fully Fused

 

 

 


‹ Prev