by Becca Barnes
“No. Mac’s taking you someplace a bit more fun and exotic. Don’t you dare tell my fellow Texans I said that.”
“Your secret’s safe with me,” I said.
“Lordy, I’m so thankful I haven’t had to make a friend promise me that in almost twenty years.” Nick’s comment elicited a chuckle from Mac.
“Oh, hey and can you go grab a swimsuit?” Mac said, then glanced appraisingly over his shoulder. “Or...maybe don’t bother.”
I fought back a blush.
“So paintball...and swimming?”
“And I’m sure a few other surprises that Mac has up his sleeves and that full ass of his.”
“I don’t want to know what that was about, do I?” said Mac.
Nick shrugged and grabbed his messenger bag as he headed toward the door. “Now, if you two will excuse me.”
“Oh. You’re not joining us?” I asked.
“Ha! Pretty sure that would be the definition of third wheel. Besides, that sugar white beach isn’t going to lay on itself. And it’s not every day I have a private jet at my disposal.”
“Umm, thank you.” I gave Nick a hug.
He hugged me back. “Until next time, hon.”
Mac gave him one of those weird handshake, chest-thump embraces that guys do and Nick headed out, mumbling something about, “damn money to burn.”
Twenty-Four
Mac
“You’re really not going to tell me where we’re headed?”
“Nada.” I couldn’t tear my eyes off Ellie’s chest as the bow of the cruiser sliced through the white-tipped waves. She’d peeled the top of her protective coverall down and was wearing only a sports bra beneath, the zipper undone so far it barely contained her luscious breasts. With each jounce of the boat, they gave an exuberant bounce.
And with every bounce, I grew harder.
Part of me wanted to drop anchor right there in the middle of the Gulf, throw her down on the deck of my boat and bang her every which way ‘til Sunday.
Thankfully, the other (slightly more gentlemanly) side of me was prevailing. So far.
“A hint?” she asked.
“Somewhere we can play paintball,” I said, knowing how highly unhelpful I was being.
“In the middle of the ocean?”
“You’d be surprised the things you can do in the middle of the ocean.” I leaned back to enjoy the view of those succulent breasts once more.
“Much farther?” she asked, seemingly oblivious to the lustful thoughts she was spurring in me.
“Maybe a half hour.” I glanced up at the sun. We’d gotten an earlier start than I’d planned and made good time with relatively calm waters. It wasn’t even noon yet.
Sparkles of light danced across the open expanse of silvery turquoise and blue water that formed the Gulf of Mexico.
“So Nick’s nice.” She sidled up next to me, pushing her coverall lower on her hips. How did she manage to make even a shapeless sack of cloth so damn sexy?
“He’s like a brother to me.” I drew her into my side. “He didn’t really need to come to town. I told him he could just overnight the supplies, but I think he wanted to meet you.”
“Me?”
“I may have told him about you.”
“Good things?”
“Very good things.” Very, very good things.
I hadn’t told Nick about a single woman I’d dated since the Felicia debacle. And Nick hadn’t exactly been a Felicia fan, even before it had all gone south. So when I’d gotten a single text from my best friend as Ellie and I were driving to the dock this morning--a thumb’s up--that had meant something.
I didn’t need my best friend’s approval to go after what I wanted.
But I sure liked having it.
I slanted my forehead upward to drink in the vibrant, cloudless sunlight through the filter of my Ray-Bans. All was right with my world. The deal had gone through without a hitch, just a few last-minute t’s to cross and i’s to dot. I had a smart, adventurous woman at my side who was funny as hell and hot as the Gulf sun that beat down on my bare shoulders.
Even Lulu had been a happy camper, barking her approval when I’d dropped her off for a playdate with Bentley. Gretchen had happily accepted my offer of a couple hundred bucks to watch the dogs for the day as well as sneak behind Ellie’s back and reschedule her clients so I could surprise her.
Our destination appeared on the horizon, and I couldn’t help but smile as I noted the recognition spread across Ellie’s face.
“You’re taking me to...an oil rig?”
“Romantic, right?” I said. “It’s actually an abandoned oil rig.”
“Oh, good. That’s better. You’re absolutely sure you’re not a vampire or a sex fiend?”
The unused metal behemoth loomed closer and closer. The cranes and pumps had long been removed. It was covered in colorful graffiti.
“Pretty sure” I said. “And this isn’t just an oil rig. This is a paintballer’s paradise. There are nooks and crannies galore--perfect for an ambush. Plus, there are narrow passages to hide in, and outcroppings for cover. I’ll have you covered in paint in no time.”
“Covered in paint, huh?” She lifted an eyebrow. “Any plans for how you’re going to get it off?”
“I’ll think of something.” I smirked.
I wasn’t an idiot, despite appearances.
I knew that I was taking a risk with paintball. I knew it was an unexpected choice for a date, much less a romantic mini getaway. Pretty ridiculous, really. I couldn’t even explain why exactly it was so important to me that I include her in this. It was one of the few true stress-relievers I had, heading out into the wilderness and popping targets full of paint.
If she hated it, she hated it. But more than anything, I wanted to just have fun with her. She made me want to...play.
And this was how I played.
I docked the boat on one of the rig’s massive platform legs. The platform had been lowered once the rig had been permanently shut down, and now it resembled a steel island, hovering twenty feet above the ocean’s surface.
But that was twenty feet too high for me when it came to Ellie’s safety. I buckled her into a safety harness for the climb, securing it to an anchored rope that had already been set up. Then I hitched the heavy supply bag over my shoulder. As I trailed behind her on the climb up the ladder, I was rewarded with the most magnificent view of her ass.
Seriously, that thing deserved a trophy.
Once we reached the top, I helped her get all her protective gear on.
“Have you ever played before?”
“I escaped a laser maze once in high school. Is that the same?”
“Not the same at all.”
“Didn’t think so.”
“So that means you’re a virgin.” I clasped the top of her coverall shut and kissed the side of her neck before snapping her collarbone protector in place. I’d maybe gone a little overboard on the body armor, but the thought of her getting a bruise today brought me physical pain.
“I guess it does,” she murmured. “You’ll be my first.”
“Well, then. I’ll have to make it good, won’t I?” I grazed my lips against hers before fastening her mask into place.
Twenty-Five
Ellie
Okay, I had to admit paintball was pretty dang cool.
It helped that we’d set the ground rule that whoever landed a shot got to kiss the other person on that body part when we were done with the match. Since no head shots were allowed, it had made the game...interesting. To say the least.
I’d tried no less than three times to throw my boobs in front of an incoming paint blob, but to no avail. He seemed to be almost reverently protecting my chestal region. I was definitely looking forward to the aftermath of a shot he’d landed just beneath my belly button, though.
My aim was getting better and better. The stains across Mac’s uniform grew in both accuracy and creativity.
I had another a
dvantage. Stealth.
I’d hidden behind a metal grate, stalking my prey in silence as Mac’s legs slowly came into view on the far side of the room. I tipped the point of the gun up and leveled it on one of the metal rungs. Then with the whisper of a pop, I hit him on the back of the knee.
Oh, that one would be delicious.
I looked down at my own uniform, coated with splotches from my tiniest toe all the way up to my upper thigh.
My aim might have been getting better, but I couldn’t help but feel grateful that his was amazing.
“No fair,” called Mac. “You can fit in the tiniest hiding spots. I don’t stand a chance in the open.”
Ha! He still hadn’t found me.
I controlled my breathing and stayed perfectly still as he inched his way over toward my hiding place. Oh, this was going to be good. When he was directly in front of me, I slunk around the grate from behind, and lifted the end of my rifle. Starting just above his kneecap, I traced the end of it up, up, up until I gently touched the muzzle to the spot where his inner thigh met his groin.
“Bang,” I whispered.
Mac drew in a sharp intake of breath then let it out as a staccato bark of laughter. He grabbed the muzzle of my gun and carefully lifted it from my grip.
“I think that’s the game.” He crouched down next to the grate. “You win.”
I glanced down at my paint-riddled suit.
“I think I’m going to win even more later.”
He reached his hand around the metal and ran the back of his hand across my cheek.
“As many times as you want.”
A shiver of pleasure slid down my spine. Seriously, where had this man come from? Sexy, intelligent, funny, and very generous.
We packed up and headed back to the boat. What I wouldn’t have given to have the ass-admiring view on the ladder.
“There’s a stretch of sand near here where we can eat and swim and pay up on our battle damage,” he said once we were both safely back on the boat.
“Sounds lovely.”
The whole day had been lovely. True, it hadn’t been what I’d expected. But if we had gone to some stuffy black tie affair, I probably would have felt uncomfortable. This had been perfect.
As Mac bustled about readying the vessel for departure and assured me there was nothing I needed to help with, I sat down on the couch in the saloon. I turned on my phone and flipped to the pictures.
The girl in the new business announcement pic looked so confident. I barely recognized myself. But someday. Someday maybe that girl would exist in real life.
If someone had told me even a week ago that there was a chance I’d ever consider leaving S’Paw Box, I would have laughed in their face. But something had changed in me. I didn’t feel like the same girl.
I didn’t relish the thought of rocking the boat, I wasn’t terrified of it anymore.
I still didn’t want to leave S’Paw Box, but Kat had made herself crystal clear. She wasn’t going to sell it to me. Ever.
I needed to accept that.
Which meant I needed to post this picture.
There was no cell coverage way out in the middle of nowhere, though. And work could wait. I turned off the screen and laid my phone next to Mac’s on the coffee table.
We cast off and were soon skimming over the glassy smooth surface of the Gulf. From deepest emerald to darkest midnight blue to the palest shade of sea glass, I could never get enough of these waters. I looked over at Mac, and I could see any residual stress melt from his shoulders as he leaned back and soaked up the sunshine from the helm.
“You look happy,” I said.
“I feel happy.”
“It’s hard to not be happy out on the water in my opinion. When I was growing up, Dad had this ancient fishing boat that we used to take out on his rare days off. It’s a wonder we didn’t sink somewhere out in the Atlantic. That thing was barely seaworthy.”
“But fun?”
“But fun.” I wrinkled my nose. Fun. That was what today had been. It had been so long since I’d just had...fun. Even at his busiest, my dad had carved out time for fun, for relaxation. He’d always been open to new experiences and new possibilities.
I had been, too.
Once upon a time.
What had happened to that fun girl? Well, there was the obvious answer. I’d inherited all the responsibilities of a growing, booming business without inheriting the financial blessings that would have come with ownership.
It was deeper than that, though. Somewhere along the way, I’d stopped seeing myself as a fun, adventurous person. I was the responsible one now. The one who focused on everyone’s needs before her own.
If I posted the photo, I’d be throwing a big old stick of dynamite into that. It felt selfish, but maybe it was a good kind of selfish.
Perhaps I should wait and give it some more thought, though. There might be a smarter, more strategic way to get to the same end with Kat. Preferably one that didn’t involve blackmail or bodily harm.
Mac massaged my neck mindlessly, eyes on the ocean.
Hmm. If only there were a smart, successful business person whose advice I could ask.
“Want to take the wheel?” he asked.
“I haven’t steered a boat since I was a kid.”
“I’ll stay close.” He scooted me in front of him. I could feel his broad shoulders braced behind me. His arms circled around my shoulders like protective wings as he placed his hands on the wheel next to mine.
He opened up the engine, and I swerved right and left, laughing as the motor purred beneath my grip.
“This is amazing,” I said. “This whole day has been amazing. I think this has officially been the craziest thing I’ve ever done.”
“This? Seriously?”
“Yep.”
“Challenge accepted,” he murmured.
We drove in comfortable silence for several minutes.
“So I surprised you?” he asked.
“Uhh, yeah.”
“What did you think we’d be doing?”
“No clue,” I answered honestly. “But certainly not shooting guns and driving yachts.”
“Cruiser.”
“What’s the difference between a yacht and a cruiser?”
“One sounds like something a pretentious asshat would own.”
I laughed at that.
“Honestly?” I said. “When Nick showed up, I thought it was an ambush makeover.”
“A makeover? Why the hell would I waste your time with a makeover? I wouldn’t change a single thing about you.”
A fresh fluttering arose between my ribs.
“Well, to be fair,” I said, “he did show up with a giant garment bag. And he washed my hair and gave me a dang good facial massage.”
“He washed your hair?” Mac leaned around my side to look me in the eye. “And you didn’t find that creepy as hell?”
“Well, again to be fair, there was dried tequila in my hair.”
“Dried tequila?”
“And probably some lime. And maybe a tiny bit of vomit.”
“What?” He guffawed.
“I said a tiny bit. Isobel and I had a girl’s night last night.”
“Isobel sounds awesome. And now that you’ve met Nick, when do I get to meet her?”
“Yeah, I’m not sure.” My heart gave a lurch. I turned my face away and bit my lip. I didn’t have any family. Isobel was the closest thing I had to a sister. Isobel was my family now. I chastised my heart for the way it had leaped at the thought of Isobel approving of Mac, of how much I wanted the two of them to hit it off.
My fling had flung himself far deeper into my life and my heart than I’d prepared for.
“I’m still curious about what you thought I had in store for you today. After the unnecessary makeover.”
“Well, I don’t want to tell you now.”
“Why not?”
“This day has been perfect as it is.”
“I took y
ou paintballing on an abandoned oil rig. That can’t be your idea of a perfect date.”
“I admit that I never would have come up with the idea on my own, but it was perfect.”
“And yet the day is just getting started.” He nibbled at a ticklish spot on my neck, and I squirmed in delight. This. This was all I had hoped for in the date. Spending time with Mac, getting to know him inside and out.
I leaned the back of my head against his chin. His prickly stubble caught in my hair, sending a tingling shiver of pleasure across my scalp.
We neared the familiar dunes of the 30A shoreline in the distance. Still far enough off that it was a white line on the horizon.
I recognized the general area. It was actually near a spot that Dad and I used to come on lazy, off-season down times and go camping. We were out in the deserted middle of the Gulf Islands National Seashore, not a soul in sight for miles and miles. Just sugary sand and sea grass as far as the eye could see. Mac couldn’t have picked a better spot if he’d been a lifelong native.
It wasn’t entirely deserted, actually, I realized with a small thud in my chest. There was a large tent that had been erected a few yards from where the waves lapped at the shore. The light linen flaps billowed in the breeze.
Mac dropped anchor fifty yards off shore.
“You up for a swim?” he asked.
“I don’t want to crash a wedding or something,” I said.
“It’s not a wedding. It’s for us.”
“For us?”
“Yup.”
“How? Who put it up?”
“Appeared by magic, I guess.”
“Magic?”
“Or a flexible and creative catering service. They stocked us with anything we could possibly need.”
“Anything?” I blinked.
“Anything.”
It was true what they say then. You can get anything for the right price. The effect was magical, though. And the gesture alone was incredibly romantic. The only thing missing was moonlight.
Twenty-Six
Ellie
I changed into my swimsuit in the smaller guest cabin, while Mac got ready in the master. I hadn’t had much time to deliberate over which suit to bring, so I’d simply grabbed a handful. Growing up in Florida, swimsuits were like bunnies. They bred in your drawer. I ended up picking a simple, flirty white ruffled bottom and a halter bikini top.
