Ireland had originally buttoned her shirt all the way up, but before she had a chance to walk out the door, Cali had unbuttoned Ireland’s top halfway down and tucked the front into Ireland’s shorts, showing off her waist and, in Ireland’s opinion, way too much chest. But when Ireland tried to button the top back up, Cali had slapped her hands away.
In the end, Ireland figured she would be revealing a lot more in her swimsuit, so what was the difference?
Ireland blocked the sun with her hand and scanned the boat one last time before shoving her glasses back in her bag. No one sat in the open space, but a man stood inside the covered section. He was bent over and rummaging down low.
Had to be Hunt.
Ireland pulled her large beach bag higher on her shoulder. The expedition had called for reinforcements. She was a natural redhead; thus, she came equipped with five tons of sunscreen and a giant hat.
Ireland bit her lip. Being the first to arrive was never fun. Hunt seemed like a nice guy, but she’d never been alone with him. What if they had nothing to say?
She took her time making her way over, hoping the others attending the booze cruise showed up soon.
But luck wasn’t on her side. And wasn’t that typical? She was still the only person there as she approached the boat. And now she was hovering like a dork.
She straightened her shoulders. “Hello?”
No longer bent over, Hunt stared out at the water, a baseball cap shielding his face. He turned at the sound of her voice.
And it wasn’t Hunt.
Shit.
Even without her glasses, Ireland recognized that stern mouth. The set of his broad shoulders, his sharp jawline. What was Bran doing here?
“Why are you here?” he said, mimicking her thoughts, and making her feel like the odd one.
Despite the harsh tone, Bran’s gaze dipped down her body, thanks to Cali’s careful clothing manipulation.
Ireland sighed. She didn’t know what she’d done to deserve Bran’s ire, but her typical reaction to confrontation was to kill it with kindness.
“Hunt said there was room on today’s tour,” she said cheerily. “Cali and I bought tickets, but now she’s sick…” She glanced around. “Where’s Hunt?”
Bran’s shoulders stiffened and he leaned over and dug his hand inside a large wooden cooler. “Out. Says he’s sick.”
Cali was sick, and now Hunt? “That’s…too bad.” Ireland twisted her mouth. It reallywastoo bad. Hunt was the nice one. “Must be a nasty bug going around.”
Bran flashed her a hard look over his shoulder. “You think?”
Ireland’s eyes narrowed. She was considered a sweet person, but Bran was testing her willpower to deflect asshole behavior. How was she going to get through this boat ride with him in charge? He hated her.
No matter what, she couldn’t leave. Cali would kill her if she bailed.
Ireland strategically placed her hands and feet for balance on the boat as she stepped on board and the vessel shifted under her weight. Everyone else would arrive soon. This was going to be fine.
Bran prepared the boat, and after a few minutes, Ireland glanced up the sand, searching for the late arrivals. “Doesn’t the tour leave at two o’clock?”
Bran straightened and ran a hand down his face. He glanced out at the water. “The group of six canceled.”
What the hell!“Excuse me,” she said lightly, her voice shaking. She was the only one on the booze cruise? With Bran? Alone?
No.No, no, no.
“Feel free to cancel.” He grinned smugly, as though reading her thoughts. “I’d be happy to return the cost of your ticket. Not like I don’t have better things to do, running four restaurants and all.”
“Sure, I…” Wait, she couldn’t cancel the one thing she’d finally promised Cali she’d do on her own in Lake Tahoe. She’d never hear the end of it. Besides, for some reason (his shitty attitude) she wasn’t particularly interested in giving Bran what he wanted.
Ireland might be uncomfortable with confrontation, but she was also so damn sick of being walked on by men. “Never mind. I’m good.”
