She huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, I’ve done this a few times, too. Three, to be exact.”
She leans against the doorframe, one eyebrow lifted like she’s waiting for me to tell her how many times Max has been married. This feels like something we should have known about our new stepparents before the day of the wedding.
“Also three.”
Her eyebrows shoot up into high arches on her forehead and she clears her throat. “Okay, so what time does the boat leave tomorrow?”
“We’re pulling out from the dock at nine.”
“Why so early?” The question is practically a groan.
I chuckle at that. I got so used to being up by five every morning for hockey practices when I was a teenager and in college that, even as an adult, I have a hard time sleeping much later, unless I’m up really late, like last night. “Not a morning person?”
“With enough caffeine, I can be. Otherwise, no.”
“I’ll make sure we’re stocked with caffeine,” I say. I should turn and leave, but for some reason, I can’t make my feet move. Even with this borderline hostility that’s rolling off her right now, I just want to spend more time with her. So, I lift my handand rest it against the top frame of the door, leaning into her space. I don’t miss the shiver that shakes her shoulders or the way goose bumps prickle the skin across her chest and her upper arms. “Want to invite me in?”
“You’re my stepbrother,” she says, the last word leaving her mouth in disgust.
“All the more reason we should get to know each other better.” I give her a wink, and now she looks even more pissed off. Why do I like that so much? I just want to keep annoying her to see what her reaction will be. It’s juvenile, but I don’t care.
“I think we did plenty of getting to know each other last night,” she says, and reaches for the door but I stop it with my free hand.
“I disagree. Why are you so hostile right now?” I say it as if I can’t tell she’s deeply uncomfortable with the turn things have taken here, as if I’m not intentionally trying to push her just to see how she responds.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Is there some sort ofhow to act after you accidentally fuck your stepbrotherplaybook I should be following?”
“It’s not like our parents will be married for long,” I say. “He’ll drop your mom in a few months when he realizes she’s not a suitable replacement formymom.”
I hear how wrong that sounds the minute it’s out of my mouth, and the horrified look on her face confirms that it was not the right thing to say. No matter how much Morgan doesn’t seem to like her mom, and even though it seems like her mom puts her dead last, Anne’s still her mom.
So when she reaches out, plants her hand on my chest, and pushes me backward while muttering “Goodnight, Danny,” I don’t fight her on it. Instead, I head to my room, trying to work out whether I should say something to make it right when I see her tomorrow.
The way Morgan storms down the limestone steps built into the hillside above the marina has me pressing my lips together to hide a smile. She’s pissed off and not hiding it well. At least she’s not late. In fact, she’s made it here before our parents, which is saying something since Max’s default mode is “on time is late.”
Her strawberry blonde hair is back in a clip like it was that night at the bar, and she’s wearing oversized sunglasses. Her white knit cover-up is made up of loosely linked stitches that hide nothing beneath, and the tie at the center leaves a deep V from her collarbone to her waist completely open, exposing the yellow string bikini beneath. Every step she takes down those stairs has her tits bouncing and, glancing around, I see that I’m not the only guy who’s noticed. In fact, almost everyone is staring at her, which makes me feel unreasonably territorial.
I want to call out and tell them all to put their tongues back in their mouths, but instead, I turn away to adjust myself. I need to get my shit together before she or our parents notice me sporting a semi every time I so much as look at her.
But fuck, did she really have to show up here looking so gorgeous? And why didn’t I anticipate how difficult it would be to see her in a bathing suit, knowing what she looks like naked?
I turn back toward her as she walks down the dock, but instead of taking the small step from the wooden platform onto the boat deck, she stops.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
She takes a deep breath, exhaling as she pushes her sunglasses on top of her head and squints against the bright sunlight that shimmers off the turquoise water. She crosses herarms over her chest as she says, “Both our parents have food poisoning.”
A laugh bursts out of me, and her shoulders shake as she tries to hold hers in. “Think it was the raw oysters?”
“Probably. And the smell that was coming from their room when I stopped by on my way here... ” She makes a gagging noise. “So anyway, I just wanted to tell you they aren’t coming. So I’m going back up there,” she nods toward the cliffs, “and taking a nap by the pool.”
I reach out before she can turn, circling her wrist. “No fucking way. This island is far too beautiful to sit by a pool when you could be out exploring.”
“Danny.” She lets out a deep sigh. “I just want to relax at the pool.”
Without thinking, I step up onto the dock, bend and throw her over my shoulder, then turn back toward the boat. She squeals and struggles against me, demanding that I put her down.
“Stop squirming or you’re going to fall in,” I say as I step back onto the boat, but our combined weight all at once has it rocking violently.
