LEFT ALONE FOR THE FIRS TIMEsince we arrived, I set up a call with Cody and Conor while Addie and all the other woman on board are getting pampered in the yacht’s spa.
We docked in Haiti this morning, and after the egg-balancing task, Amara called in the local beauticians. Henry immediately tried to hijack me for a fishing trip, but I got out of it by saying I needed a few hours to catch up on work.
I’m not proud that I lied to the guy. He’s been nothing but nice since day one, but I’d rather throw in a little white lie than spend any more time than necessary with Grant. I’m not sure how much longer I can keep myself from breaking his nose.
With a tall cup of iced coffee, I sit out on the balcony of our suite, set the phone up for FaceTime, and light a cigarette. A minute later, when the agreed hour strikes, Cody’s the first to join the call.
“You’re getting your ass kicked when you come back,” he starts, folding his arms over his chest. “I text you five times a day and all I get back are fucking emojis.”
Judging by the flowery wallpaper behind him and the background hum, he’s having lunch somewhere in town.
“I’m busy, Cody. This trip’s nothing like I expected. Addie’s future sister-in-law has made it one big bonding exercise. We’re playing kiddie games every day.”
He raises a brow, then looks past his camera, gesturing for someone to come over. Ten seconds later, Conor plops down beside him, nudging his chin up at me.
Before saying one word in my direction, he hails a waitress and only when they’ve both placed their order does he offer me any attention.
“How’s paradise?”
“Not paradising,” Cody chips in. “He says he’s playing kiddie games every day instead of lounging by the pool, getting drunk, and making sweet mistakes with Addie.”
“Kiddie games? Like what?Twister? Because let me tell you, play that naked and it’s so not a kiddies’ game.”
I roll my eyes, blowing out a cloud of smoke. “Treasure hunt, tug of war, and today, egg-and-spoon race on a diving board forty feet over the ocean.”
“Sounds dreadful,” Cody chuckles. “You suck at games, so I bet you’re having fun.”
“I suck at games when I’m stuck with you two as teammates. I’m doing fine here, but I’d still much rathernotplay.”
“I doubt that takes all day, so... aside from weird bonding exercises, how arethingsgoing?” He emphasizesthingsharder than getting the point across requires.
“Good, I guess. I don’t really know what to say. Addie’s father’s cool, her mother’s a witch, and Grant’s here, pissing me off to no end. I’m ninety-nine percent sure I’ll dislocate his jaw by the end of the week. And Addie... we’re getting along.”
That’s an understatement, but I’m not going to word-vomit that we fit like two puzzle pieces or list any of the other thousands of things about her that draw me in and make me feel all fuzzy and warm inside.
“Getting along,” Conor muses, two wrinkles marking his forehead. “Wow, that’s juicy, bro. What’s with the secrecy? I can tell something’s chewing at that big head of yours. Spill.”
I take another long drag, earning a few precious thinking seconds. Maybe a bit of perspective won’t hurt. Maybe it’ll help me slow the pace and make sure I don’t fuck things up before they’ve really started.
“I’m getting attached,” I admit, pushing the words out fast. “I know I shouldn’t. Not so fast, but—”
The soft opening and closing of the suite door cuts me off. I look over my shoulder to find Addie, dressed in a white, fluffy robe, her face glowing.
“Back so soon?” I ask, though a quick glance at the clock tells me she’s been gone over two hours. Cody and Conor took their sweet time jumping on this call. “How was it?”
She comes closer with a dreamy smile. “I’m pampered, relaxed, I smell like something edible, and the massage...” She sighs softly. “His fingers are magical. I feel so... light.”
A pang of jealousy hits me, sharper than expected. My eyes rove her perfect body, wondering whereexactly he touched her. The thought of another man’s hands on her stirs my inner rage.
“A male masseuse?” I ask, the words coming out harsher than intended.
My hand’s itching. I want to bend her over and slap her pretty butt for letting someone other than me touch her. It’s irrational. I know. It’s the guy’s fucking job but...
Yeah, but what, Colt?
But nothing... she’s not mine. I have no right to feel so possessive. That seems like bullshit, though, because ever since that picnic dinner, things between us have escalated at warp speed.
And I don’t just mean sex. There’s more. Like the fact she sleeps cuddled into my side and kisses my chin when she wakes up. Or that the girlfriend/boyfriend dynamic doesn’t feel fake anymore. We’re not pretending.
