“It wouldn’t hurt to have a little fun, too. If that’s what you two are doing. It’s okay.”
“We’re not. That would get messy, and I don’t like messes.”
He holds up his hands. “They’re not that bad if you?—”
“We don’t like each other. It’s never going to happen.”
“Fine, fine. You were rubbing sunscreen on her to spite her, then, I guess. Makes total sense.”
“To win an argument, actually.”
“An argument? About what?”
I think of her taunts.You can’t stand to have your hands on me, can you?Deciding to prove it. The small tattoo under her full, curved breast, her perky nipples, the taunting smile on her face.
“You wouldn’t understand,” I say.
He doesn’t say anything. He just chuckles.
The wooden boat approaching the dock grows bigger. It’s going in a straight line, aiming for us with reckless speed.
“A hundred bucks Alex is driving,” West says.
I shake my head. “It’s too straight. Has to be James.”
“He wouldn’t go that fast.”
“He would, as long as it’s moderately safe.” I shade my eyes and look toward the two figures on the boat. They’re growing bigger by the second.
The one behind the wheel is slightly shorter than the other, and… yes. He’s dark blond. “And I won. Thanks for the money, Maude.”
“Still not my middle name,” West mutters, and reaches into his back pocket for his wallet. “Do you want it in dollars, francs, or euros?”
“You’re carrying francs?”
“Hell no. But I’m trying to honor your many nationalities. I was just hoping you wouldn’t pick that one.”
I hold out a hand. “Whatever you have, I’ll take.”
The boat pulls up neatly next to the dock as I push the cash into my own pocket. I’ll likely lose it later tonight. If there’s one thing we all do together, it’s gamble.
Alex gets out of the boat first. Over the fifteen years I’ve known him, he’s transformed from the skinny boy I first met. Now he’s the tallest of us, and the broadest, with a penchant for sports and horsemanship and general recklessness.
He holds up a wooden case and grins. “We brought cigars,” he says, his accent faintly Scottish, “and very poor judgment.”
“Speak for yourself.” James steps onto the dock and throws a rope to West. Together, they tie up the boat.
“Tonight is your bachelor party.” Alex slings an arm around my shoulders. “Even if we’re a little late. James here is furious that you didn’t tell us about your courthouse wedding.”
“And yet hecontinuesto speak for me,” James says.
“You love it when I do that,” Alex calls. “You get so much more talkative when you let me do it.”
“He’s shy otherwise, is he?” I say.
“Terribly. It’s an English affliction.”
James pushes Alex away. “And you have the opposite affliction. You never shut up. Now, I know I’m your favorite topic, but focus on the groom.”
