Geoducks are for Lovers

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Geoducks are for Lovers Page 19

by Prescott, Daisy


  “Ew. I’ll wash it and give it back to you clean.”

  “Keep it. I have plenty of them.” He wraps his arm around her shoulder. “Wow. Quinn’s going to be a dad.”

  “Wow indeed.”

  “You okay?” He softly asks in her ear.

  “Yeah. I think so. It’s funny to think of our group still having babies. Kind of a miracle and miracles are always good.” Maggie reaches up and links her hand with his.

  Gil squeezes her tighter against his side. “Life is full of surprises and unexpected joy.”

  Nodding, Maggie observes Quinn and Jo, who are deep in conversation about names. Ryan and Ben shake hands, and do a weird man shoulder pat hug.

  “On that note, we should have some champagne and a proper toast.” Maggie offers.

  “Any excuse to drink champagne is a good thing in my book.” Selah walks into the house with Maggie.

  “I can’t believe those bastards didn’t tell me before,” Selah says to her as they grab flutes and a chilled bottle of Veuve Cliquot she keeps in the fridge in case of an emergency celebration.

  “They probably wanted to make sure everything was okay. These things can go wrong.”

  “I get it, I do. It’s just the gays were my ally in the fight against the breeders. Traitors.” Selah smiles.

  “You have me. And Gil. We still live in the land of the childless.”

  “Oh, Mags.” Selah hugs her. “Fucking Julien.”

  This makes her laugh. “He isn’t the reason I didn’t have kids, Selah.”

  “Yeah, maybe. He was still an asshole, though.” Hugging Maggie, she continues, “I do like you saying ‘me and Gil’ like you’re a team. It makes me happy.”

  “I like it, too.” She nods as she skillfully opens the champagne—it barely emits a pop.

  “Good. My work here is done. No more from me. I promise.” After crossing her heart, Selah pretends to seal her lips and then tosses an invisible key over her shoulder. “Let’s go toast to the gay breeders.”

  Twenty-three

  Shivering, Maggie pulls down the sleeves of her black long sleeved T-shirt, wishing she grabbed her vest from the house before coming down to the beach for the fire. Grateful she changed into jeans before dinner, Maggie notices it’s definitely cooler tonight than last night.

  Gil takes off his flannel shirt, revealing a gray thermal underneath, and hands it to her.

  “I can’t take your shirt. You’ll be cold.” Maggie tries to refuse.

  “I’ll be fine once the fire gets going. Take it or you’ll have to walk back up to the house to get something.”

  “Thanks.” Maggie pulls on the green plaid shirt, which swims on her, so she cuffs the sleeves. She inhales the Gil scent that surrounds her: sun, salt, and summer. Happiness.

  Warmer already, Maggie grabs some thin pieces of kindling and stacks them in between the firewood.

  “We forgot the newspaper.” Ben searches for it around the logs.

  “Don’t need it. Selah, give me your lighter.” Gil sticks his hand out. He uses Selah’s lighter to light the small kindling. Soon the bigger pieces of wood ignite and the fire takes off.

  “Impressive work, Morrow and Marrion.” Ben admires their handiwork.

  “You guys make a good team,” Jo says, sitting on a log and stretching her legs out toward the fire, taking a sip of her wine. She’s wearing black yoga pants and her blue North Face fleece again.

  With her back against another log and knees bent, Maggie sits opposite Jo. Gil flops down next to her. Maggie observes a few bellies being rubbed and hears the sounds of satisfied post-dinner moaning.

  “What is it about meat grilled over open flame?” Selah asks.

  “Do you want the scientific explanation?” Maggie takes a sip of her wine.

  “Rhetorical question, but I’m sure you know the answer.” Selah lights a post-meal cigarette.

  “I’m not moving ever again.” Gil stretches his arms out behind Maggie. He rubs circles on Maggie’s arm with his thumb.

  “I haven’t eaten this much meat in a long time,” Selah declares.

  Ben snorts.

  “Shut it, Ben. I honestly think the pile of grilled veggies did me in. What sort of hocus-pocus did you do to them to make them so delicious, Magpie?” Selah says.

  “Nothing. Some sea salt, olive oil, love,” Maggie explains. “The magic of local grown, fresh, and seasonal.”

  “It’s a delicious magic.” Gil leans over and kisses her shoulder.

  She notices he’s having a harder time keeping his hands off of her after everyone is relaxed from wine and food. Maggie turns and smiles at him. “Thank you.”

  “Mmm… anytime.”

  She gets lost in his eyes for a moment. Maggie can feel her face begin to heat, and she isn’t sure if it is the wine or Gil’s attention.

  “I could definitely get used to this lifestyle.” Smiling, he turns away from her, poking the fire with a long stick.

  “Oh, could you? Island living agreeing with you?” Maggie nudges his leg with her shoe.

  “Definitely agreeing.” He gives her a grin.

  “Maybe you’ll be invited again.” She grins back.

  “Maybe? Only maybe?” He nudges her shoulder with his own.

  Biting her lip, she peeks at him through the corner of her eye. “We’ll see how the night goes.”

  “Is that a challenge, Maggie May?” He leans forward and catches her eye, then puts his hand on her leg above her knee, and squeezes.

  The heat of his hand warms her and her muscles clench.

  “Maybe.”

  Gil licks the corner of his mouth. “Good to know.” Leaning back, he keeps his hand on her thigh.

  Mentally, Maggie fans herself. The fire in front of her isn’t the only one she’s playing with tonight.

  Quinn and Ryan eventually make their way out to join the group after their turn doing dishes. They carry the s’mores supplies along with metal skewers from the kitchen.

  “I can’t believe I’m offering this after the meat feast, but who wants dessert?” Ryan gestures the platter of goodies.

  “I’ll never turn down chocolate or Nutella.” Selah gets up to grab a skewer and marshmallow.

  “I need to taste Maggie’s Nutella s’more,” Gil says, squeezing her leg. “Mind making me one?”

  “If I can stand, sure.” She pushes off the sand, using Gil’s leg to prop herself up.

  “Charred or not charred?” She waves a marshmallow in front of Gil.

  “Charred, of course.” He grins.

  “Heathen.” She teases and sticks the marshmallow directly into the flames. Pulling the flaming ball of goo out of the fire, she blows on it before handing the skewer to Gil. ‘Hold this, and no eating it.”

  Carefully grabbing a graham cracker, she smears on a dollop of Nutella, then places the charred marshmallow on top before adding another cracker.

  She licks a big dollop of Nutella off the side, getting some of the warm chocolate on the corner of her mouth.

  “Here.” She hands him the sticky mess.

  “You missed a spot.” He gestures to her lips before biting the s’more.

  Maggie licks her lips, trying to get the smear of Nutella. She glances at Gil, who closes his eyes and moans.

  “Good?”

  “Mmmm…. mmm… mmm” is all that comes out of him. Still with his eyes closed he reaches up to swipe off the Nutella from his chin with his thumb. It’s Maggie’s turn to quietly moan as she watches him lick his thumb.

  “Food porn as foreplay?” Quinn asks as he sticks his own marshmallow into the flames next to Maggie.

  “What?” she asks, completely unaware of where she is.

  “You have it so bad.” Selah chimes in from behind her. “Move out of the way or toast another marshmallow.” She bumps Maggie with her hip.

  “More,” Gil says, opening one eye as he pops the last of the s’more
into his mouth.

  “Best s’more ever?” Maggie asks, grabbing another marshmallow.

  “Best ever.” Gil winks. “More.”

  “Greedy.” She chars another marshmallow.

  The rest of the gang is likewise toasting and moaning over their creations.

  “Where was this when I used to smoke pot?” Quinn asks.

  “I’m grateful Nutella wasn’t around back then. I would have been as big as a house,” Jo comments, eating a perfectly toasted but not charred marshmallow.

  Maggie hands Gil another s’more, which he snatches from her like a starving man.

  “You okay there, big guy? Can I make one for myself now?”

  Gil gives her a stink eye but nods his head, his mouth too full to respond verbally.

  Maggie sits back down next to Gil with her own s’more. She takes a bite, closes her eyes and moans.

  When she opens her eyes, she catches Gil licking the s’more right before biting it.

  “What the fuck?” She tries to save her s’more from his greedy mouth, but he is too quick.

  “It was dripping and going to land on my shirt. I was trying to be a gentleman and protect you from molten hot sugar.”

  Maggie stares at him.

  “Not buying it?”

  “No.” She licks her lips where the melted marshmallow makes them sticky. She watches Gil staring at her lips.

  “Can I help you with that?” He offers, his eyes flicking to her mouth, and back up to her eyes.

  “I think I’ve got it.”

  “I’m not sure about that.” He reaches out his index finger and swipes under her bottom lip. He shows her the chocolate. She grabs his finger, sucking it into her mouth.

  “Mine,” she declares after she licks his finger clean.

  Gil whispers, “That’s the sexiest thing I’ve seen.”

  Maggie gives him a small smile. “Good to know.” She pops the last bit of s’more into her mouth.

  “Talk about food porn,” Selah comments from her spot at the fire.

  Maggie realizes her little show with Gil’s finger had an audience. She’s grateful the firelight hides her blush.

  Gil leans over to her and brushes her hair over her shoulder. “I love that you still blush.”

  His whispered words brush against her ear with his breath, sending a shiver down her back. Gil quickly nips her ear and retreats.

  The soft moan that escapes her this time has nothing to do with Nutella. She crosses her legs and squeezes as familiar warmth spreads through her body before leaning into Gil a bit more. As he extends his arm behind her she realizes they’ve tuned out the rest of the conversations around them.

  “If the baby is a girl, what would you name her?” Jo asks Ryan and Quinn.

  “Lizzy,” Quinn answers. Ryan nods.

  “Oh, Q, that’s so sweet,” Jo approves. Maggie smiles and her eyes tear up. Gil squeezes her shoulder.

  “And for a boy?” Maggie asks.

  “Not as sure. We want to avoid any places or things. Logan, Austin, Cooper, Brooklyn, and those sorts of names are out,” Ryan says.

  “We also want to avoid any pop culture trends,” Quinn adds.

  “No television characters or vampire names?” Selah teases.

  “I still can’t believe there’s a girl named Quinn.” Quinn huffs. “I mean come on. Clearly, it’s a masculine name.”

  “Maybe the television writers are familiar with your work,” Ryan says. “Could be a tribute to you.”

  Quinn quirks an eyebrow at his husband. “Nice try. I’ll buy it, cause I love you.”

  “What about Aslan?” Maggie teases.

  “No pop culture, Magpie.”

  “I kind of like Aslan. It suited you in college.”

  “They called you Aslan in college?” Ryan looks intrigued.

  “The long wavy mane of blond hair drove everyone wild.”

  “I bet.” Ryan ruffles Quinn’s short hair.

  “I’m sure you’ll find the perfect name,” Jo says. “This is going to be the most spoiled baby ever.”

  “I doubt it,” Selah disagrees. “I remember seeing pictures of your nurseries. Wasn’t there a life-size stuffed sheep involved?”

  Ben laughs. “The kids loved the sheep. So did the dog, unfortunately. And not in a brotherly-love kind of way.”

  “Ew. Your dog humped the sheep?” Selah asks.

  “Yes. It was even more horrifying when he did it in front of the nanny.” Jo cringes.

  Everyone cracks up.

  “I can’t imagine.” Ryan laughs. “Okay, no life-size stuffed sheep around dogs.”

  “I can’t believe our Peter Pan is growing up.” Selah sighs.

  “Oh, this doesn’t mean I’m going to be a grown up, Elmore. I’ll still be the most immature, fun forty something you know.” Quinn nods.

  “I don’t doubt it,” Ben agrees. “But life changes, Q. You’ll be surprised how your priorities change.”

  “Like going to bed at 10 pm.” Jo looks at Ben’s watch and yawns.

  “Okay, old lady.” Quinn tries to stifle a yawn, too.

  “How come you feed kids sugar and they go crazy, but we eat it and crash?” Selah asks before succumbing to a yawn.

  “Could be the multiple bottles of wine and the huge meat feast have had something to do with it.” Jo yawns again. “It’s almost eleven. That’s a respectable time to go to bed.” She stands to dust sand off her legs as Ben heads toward the house.

  “Night all,” they call as they walk up the steps to the deck, holding hands.

  Maggie doesn’t feel tired and turns to face Gil.

  He strokes her arm. “Should we let the old folks go to bed while the fire burns itself out?”

  “Sounds like a plan to me,” she agrees. She turns to Quinn and nods toward the house. He stares at her for a second before realization dawns he’s being dismissed.

  “Come on Big Daddy, let’s go to bed and sleep while we can.” Quinn grabs the platter with the remainder of the sugar fest.

  “Selah, you coming?” he asks.

  Selah glances from Quinn to Maggie. Maggie tilts her head to the side. “Sure, since the sexy lumberjack stood me up, I’m frustrated and inspired to write some smut.” She glances over at the dark windows of John’s place. “Night, kids. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”

  “That doesn’t leave out much.” Gil laughs.

  “Exactly,” Selah says with a wink, and heads up to the house with Quinn and Ryan.

  Gil stretches out more on the sand, extending his legs and rolling Maggie into his side. “Alone at last.”

  “You say it like you were tortured by the company of your dearest friends all night.” She pats his chest where her hand rests.

  “Tortured yes, but not by our friends.”

  “No? Then by what?” Maggie turns her head to look up at him.

  “Oh, I think you know. What was with the finger sucking and lip licking? Were you trying to kill me?” He stares at her mouth. His eyes lift up to meet hers before he leans down and kisses her. The kiss isn’t gentle or cautious.

  Maggie takes a second or two to respond before shifting so she can kiss him more deeply. She swings her leg over his hips to straddle his lap.

  “I thought they’d never leave,” she mumbles into his mouth.

  “Me neither.” He kisses her neck and moves his hands up higher so they rest slightly below her breasts.

  She softly moans.

  “I’ve wanted to kiss you all afternoon. Why weren’t we doing this all day?”

  “I have no idea.” She breaks away from his lips to kiss his neck.

  “It was your idea to fly under the radar.” Tilting his head, he gives her more access. Her hands wander down his chest.

  “It was a terrible, terrible idea.”

  “Horrible.” He kisses her again and rolls them on their sides.

  “We’re going t
o have sand everywhere.” She giggles.

  “Right now I don’t care.” He shifts his leg between hers, so she moves her leg up to align their hips.

  They make out like teenagers on the sand as the fire slowly burns down. Coming up for air, Maggie notices embers have replaced flames.

  “Maybe we should put the fire out and head inside.” She pokes Gil’s side to get his attention from where he’s nuzzling her neck.

  “Fire? Oh, yeah.” He looks over at the embers. “You aren’t going to send me to my room with Snoring Selah, are you?”

  Maggie realizes she hasn’t thought of where this is heading. She does know she doesn’t want to stop and let her brain take over the what-ifs and what-does-this-means.

  “No, you are definitely not sharing a room with Selah tonight.”

  “Thank god.” He kisses her again. This kiss is different. This is a kiss of more than making out on the beach.

  It makes her head swoon.

  “Let’s put out this fire.” She breaks away from him. When she stands she feels sands shift out of her shirt. She ruffles her hair and the grit of sand is there as well.

  Gil chuckles at her.

  “Let’s hope everyone’s in bed. Or we’ll have some explaining to do with you looking like that. You look thoroughly kissed. Lips swollen and your cheeks are extra pink from my scruff.” He kisses her nose when he stands up.

  “You have sex hair, mister. I wouldn’t be gloaty if I were you.” She tosses the bucket of sea water on the fire, causing it to steam and sizzle.

  “Gloaty isn’t a word. Sex hair? Really?” He looks pleased at the idea.

  “Mmm hmm.” She pulls her fingers through his hair. “Sex hair.” She tugs a lock.

  “Come on, let’s see if I can sneak you into my room without the chaperons realizing.” She takes his hand and pulls him willingly toward the house.

  “Have you ever snuck a boy into your room before?”

  “You’ll be my first.” She turns and winks at him as they walk up the steps to the deck.

  “I’m honored,” he says, formally bowing to her before walking across the deck.

  The house is quiet and dark when they enter. Biscuit lifts his head from his bed, then flops back down with a sigh.

 

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