Soren waved a hand. “And didn’t I deliver?”
“Soren…”
“Mm?”
Jay might have had a wicked pout on his side, but Soren could do this innocent act all day long. It was really too easy.
“This is a mansion,” Jay said after a moment.
“On the beach though,” Soren countered. “You requested beachfront.”
“Beachfrontcamping.”
Soren put his hands on his hips, straightening to his full height. If they were going to be mincing words… “There are camp chairs on the deck.”
“They’re loungers. They havecushions.” Jay said the last word with so much accusation that Soren almost laughed. As if cushions were the worst offense imaginable. And perhaps they were, for the little sweetling who wanted nothing more than to tumble around in the dirt.
That teeny twinge of guilt panged somewhere in Soren’s sternum again.
Soren supposed it was time to come clean.
He walked over to Jay, setting his hands on his friend’s shoulders. Soren was wearing flats—even a vampire such as himself had trouble walking gracefully in heeled boots on the sand—so they were basically the same height for once.
“Jaybird,” Soren began, matching Jay’s solemnity. “I couldn’t do it.”
“But you said—”
“Even in the fancy RV, or the expensive yurts, I just couldn’t.” Soren met Jay’s gray gaze with all the sincerity he could muster. “I needamenities, Jay. A full shower and standing bath. Ice that doesn’t come from a dirty cooler. A large bed and equally large floor space on which to debauch my frankly insatiable mate.”
“Hear, hear!” Gabe called from the walk-in closet, where he’d been putting away some of Soren’s immense vacation wardrobe.
Speaking of.
“I need outfits,” Soren continued, giving Jay a little shake. “And hangers on which to hang them. Tiny shorts and silk coverups and enough variety that I’m never wearing the same clothes for more than two hours at a time.That’swhat I need for a proper vacation. There’ve been too many camping trips. Too. Many.”
“There’ve been three,” Jay argued. But his tense stance had softened, his lower lip no longer pushed out into that absurd little pout.
“That’s three more than I ever thought I’d agree to.”
Jay cocked his head. “Why didn’t you just say so?”
Gabe’s voice rang out again. “He thought you’d be upset, and he can’t resist your puppy-dog eyes.”
Soren scowled in the direction of the closet. “Your input is no longer needed here, Highness.”
He began steering Jay toward the door. “Listen, your bedroom is on the ground floor; it opens right up to the beach. You can throw the doors open at night, hang a tarp, and it’ll be basically the same thing.” He was maybe starting to sound desperate, but he couldn’t help himself. “We can’t always be roughing it, Jaybird. It’s too much to ask.” Soren waved toward the window, where the waves were crashing gently against glittering white sand. “Plus, look: plenty of dirt to roll around in.”
Jay frowned. “That’s not dirt. It’s sand.”
“It’s messy, and it’s all over the ground. It’s dirt for our purposes.” Soren opened the door, making a shooing motion. “Go frolic.”
Jay gave Soren a look, one he must have learned from Colin.
“I’ve been told the waters here are very calm in the mornings,” Soren tried. “You can practice your swimming.”
The look softened, just a little.
“And the kitchen is top-rate,” Soren added. “And there’s a farmer’s market tomorrow. Fresh berries. You could bake us a summer cake.”
