Page 29 of Property of Player

We turn to see the father from the family who was toasting marshmallows. One of his sons at his side.

“We’ve got to take the kids in to bed. It’s getting late, but the service that set up the bonfire won’t be out to clean it for another hour. You’re welcome to enjoy it if you’d like.”

The boy at his side holds out the almost empty bag of marshmallows. “There are a few left, and you can use my stick.” He holds a stick out proudly to Player.

Player squats and examines it. He whistles. “It’s a nice one. Thanks.”

The man grins, puts an arm around his son, and they walk off.

“Shall we?” Player says, holding up the stick and bag.

“Sure.”

We make our way across the sand and take two low chairs.

Player jabs a marshmallow on the stick and holds it to the flames. Soon it’s puffy, golden brown.

Pulling it off and blowing on it, he offers it to me. “Careful, it’s hot.”

I pop it in my mouth and grin around my bulging cheeks.

Lines form around his mouth and eyes with his broad grin.

He toasts another, bites off half, and offers me the other half.

Grabbing his wrist, I bring it close to my mouth and eat it from his hand, licking his sticky fingers.

“Goddamn, girl. You tryin’ to get me hard as a rock?”

I giggle, knowing this man has all the sex he can handle. “I’m sure you’re not hard up, Player.”

“I am right now. Hard and up.”

I almost choke on the marshmallow and fall to my side in the chair, laughing.

“Oh, it’s funny, is it? Makin’ me suffer? See if I share any of my marshmallows with you again.”

That makes me laugh even harder.

Player pulls a flask from inside his leather, twists the cap and holds it out to me.

“What’s this?” I ask, taking it and smelling it.

“Rum. Top shelf, so don’t turn your nose up.”

I take a swig and it burns its way down. “Whoa.”

He grins, and I pass it back and watch him tip it up, his throat working as he swallows.

Goddamn, this man is sexy.

The fire lights his eyes and brings out the gleaming gold in his hair.

He’s aged in the years since we broke up, but it looks good on him. Every line around his eyes is sexy.

I shouldn’t be here, sitting by a fire in the moonlight and drinking rum. Visions of Captain Jack Sparrow getting Elizabeth Swann drunk on the deserted island flash through my brain.

“Do you remember our first date?” I ask softly.