Sex on the Beach (Southern Comfort Book 2)

by Melanie Shawn

  A large swell of applause erupted across the bar. None of the other women seated at our table seemed to notice, but I turned my head. Part of me was curious as to what the commotion was about. But I had to admit that my curiosity flame was fanned because Jimmy was in that area.

  I’d seen him when we’d walked in, and thought that he was going to come over and say hi, but he hadn’t. The girls and I had been in Southern Comfort for close to two hours now, and he’d kept his distance the entire time.

  It was disappointing that he hadn’t spoken to me, but there was a silver lining: he’d seen me in this outfit. I’d selected it specifically hoping that I’d see him tonight. I’d never worn a neckline as daring as the one I had on now, and I usually kept the color palette of my wardrobe to muted tones, but my current shirt was crimson red. And my jeans might as well have been painted on.

  From what I could see, the disruption was centered around Kevin Bacon. He’d been making the rounds and taking pictures with people. Apparently, he was Instafamous. People got very excited to see him.

  As crazy as I’d thought it had been the first time I’d seen him walking around the bar, after spending time there I couldn’t remember what had struck me as strange in the first place. This town, and its residents, were definitely having an effect on me.

  I turned back and was doing my best to concentrate on the company at the table, but my eye kept wandering to one resident in particular. Jimmy was holding court at the far end of the bar with the men that Cheyenne had said were commonly referred to as the Three Stooges, while they thought of themselves as the Three Wise Men.

  That was the other benefit of Jimmy not coming over to talk to me. I’d been able to observe him. Watching him interact with the people around him was more of a turn-on than I’d ever thought it could be. When he spoke to people, their faces lit up. He had a seemingly effortless way of lifting everyone’s spirits.

  It was hot. Very hot.

  “Well…” Cheyenne lifted her shot glass in cheers. “Here’s to what might be my last night as a Comfort.”

  She hadn’t brought up the looming test results before this, and no one else had either. Reagan and Nadia had told us a lot of stories from their college days, they’d been roommates and had had some hysterical nights. I’d sensed that they were trying to keep the mood up, and distract Cheyenne from the stressful situation.

  Now that she’d spoken about it, it was clear they’d been right to do so, if the dark cloud that had moved in was any indication.

  “You’ll always be a Comfort,” Reagan assured her.

  Cheyenne shrugged before downing her fourth shot of the night, this one was a Melon Ball. Reagan, Nadia, and I followed her lead. It was sweeter than I’d expected. It made sense—the clue was in the name. When we’d had a Fireball, that one had been hot.

  I’d never been a big drinker. Without any real friends to speak of, underage drinking had never been an issue. And once I came of age, I was consumed with completing my degree and working full time. Getting wasted wasn’t really an option because I had too many responsibilities.

  Using the back of her hand, Cheyenne wiped her mouth. “It’s not that I care about the name as much as I don’t want to be the outsider, again. I was just starting to feel like I might be part of the family.”

  Since I’d never felt like a part of anything, I had no idea what to say. I wished I were better in these situations. My chest tightened, and I knew my social anxiety was ramping up. Even the alcohol wasn’t helping.

  “I think there are two types of family: the ones you’re born into, and the ones you choose. You’re lucky that you have both. It doesn’t matter if James Comfort is your biological father or not, you’re definitely Sabrina Comfort’s daughter, and you are your brothers’ sister. Nothing’s going to change that,” Nadia effortlessly reassured her.

  Why couldn’t I have thought of saying something like that?

  Cheyenne nodded. “You’re right. And if James Comfort isn’t my father, then maybe that would explain why he let my grandparents take me.”

  I could see from the look in her eye that it was painful for her to revisit the past, but she was trying to make the best of it. She’d been the same way in school. I’d always admired that quality about her.

  I remembered that freshman year, she’d been bullied by a group of upper-class girls. When it had started, she’d had no clue why they chose to single her out, no one did. Later, we found out that it was because Bianca Dell’s boyfriend had seen Cheyenne one day when he came to the school to pick Bianca up and had commented on how hot she was.

  That was all it took for an entire group of girls to target her. They put a dead rat, a bag of feces, and other horrifically unmentionable items in her locker. Every day, she’d be scared to open it, for fear that something horrible and disgusting would come out of it.

  And for a couple of weeks, not one day had gone by that there hadn’t been something there.

  Even before she knew who was doing it, or why, she’d say that she felt sorry for the perpetrators. She said that she would rather be on the receiving end of the harassment than one of her harassers. She said that anyone who would treat another human being like that must be miserable and unhappy. I remember admiring how mature she’d been, how she’d handled the situation with grace and class.

  It seemed that was still how she handled difficult situations.

  “Anyway,” Cheyenne shook her head and turned her attention to Reagan, “speaking of family, when are you going to let my brother put a ring on it, already?”

  Reagan blushed and I had to smile. My first impression of Reagan had been that she reminded me of all the women that worked for my father. She was polished, intelligent, poised, and unreadable. The woman had a poker face that I was sure served her well in her legal career.

  But when Billy’s name was mentioned or he stopped by the table to check on us, all of that ice queen persona melted and pure love shone through. It made me believe that the sort of love I’d seen in movies and read about in books actually existed.

  “It’s only been a few months.” Reagan took a sip of her Malibu and Coke. “And there has been a lot going on.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about?” Cheyenne feigned innocence. “We’re just one, big, happy family. No drama at all.”

  We all chuckled but it died down when someone approached the table. “I don’t want to interrupt girl’s night, but can I interest any of you ladies in a game of pool?”

  The man that Nadia had shooed away when we first arrived was back. This time he was holding a pool stick.

  “Knox.” Nadia who was sitting beside me and in the aisle seat position of the booth put her hand on Knox’s forearm. “We all know you’re only asking the lovely Isabella.”

  All eyes turned to me and I could feel my cheeks flush. I hated being the center of attention. I never knew what I should be doing. Should I say something? Should I smile? Should I stare blankly in front of me?

  “How do you know that?” Knox asked, his eyes still focused on me as he winked.

  “Well, we,”—Nadia waved her hand between herself and Knox—“have already played our fair share of pool. And you wouldn’t dare ask Reagan or Cheyenne.”

  “Really? Why’s that?” he asked, a twinkle of challenge in his eyes.

  My attention was focused on Nadia, but I could feel his stare on me.

  “Because you value your testicles too much,” Nadia stated bluntly.

  Cheyenne and Reagan chuckled. I glanced down at my drink.

  “True,” Knox agreed, not seeming at all offended by her statement.

  I wasn’t sure if Nadia was already feeling the effects of her drink or if she was always this bold, but I liked it.

  “Well, darlin’. What do you say?” Knox reached out his arm across Nadia.

  Part of me wanted to decline his request. I was out with the girls, here at Cheyenne’s invitation. But the other part of me really wanted to check ‘hustl
e someone at pool’ off my list. I’d wanted to do it ever since I saw Mystic Pizza when I was twelve.

  There was a slight tug-of-war about what the right thing to do would be. Ultimately, the part of me that wanted to have my Julia Roberts moment won.

  I looked across the table at Cheyenne. “Do you mind?”

  “No, go!” she encouraged.

  Nadia scooted out of the booth so that I could get out. When I stood, Knox didn’t move, which put my gaze eye level with his broad chest, only about two inches away from my face.

  On paper, Knox was exactly the sort of guy that would normally catch my eye. He was tall, in shape, clean-cut, confident, with a deep voice. What wasn’t to like? But when I looked at him, I didn’t feel anything. No spark. No attraction. No interest.

  I didn’t read too much into my reaction, but I did note it as we made our way to the back room where I’d seen a pool table. I grabbed a stick, felt the weight, set it back down and selected another.

  When I turned around, I found myself once again nose to chest with the man that had played his fair share of pool with Nadia. I’d never been very particular about my personal space, but Knox was pushing the line of what was appropriate.

  My eyes lifted to his. “I’m Isabella, by the way.”

  “Bella. That means beautiful.” He grinned.

  It was a nice grin, but it had nothing on Jimmy’s. That’s when it hit me, why I was immune to the man standing in front of me. It was because I’d already caught feelings for another man. It had nothing to do with Knox and everything to do with me. Me and Jimmy.

  “It’s Isabella,” I corrected him.

  Hearing him call me the same name as Jimmy didn’t sit right with me.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Isabella.” He held out his hand. “Knox Montgomery.”

  He said his last name as if it should mean something to me. I figured that must be because he was a member of one of the founding families. But I only knew about that because I’d read it in a pamphlet. His arrogance was going to make this even more fun.

  “Have you played much pool?” he asked as he collected the balls and put them in the rack.

  “Some.” I chalked my cue.

  “Well, just remember to hit through the ball, you’ll be just fine.” He winked.

  “Thanks.” It was the second time that he’d winked at me and I wondered if that actually worked with other women. It read as disingenuous to me.

  “Do you want to break?” He lifted the rack up.

  “No, you can.” I waited as he made a big show of setting up his shot. Before he actually made it, his eyeline lifted to mine. “What do you say we make this interesting?”

  Damn, this could not be going any better if I scripted it myself!

  I did my best to tamper the excitement I felt so it didn’t show in my face. “What do you have in mind?”

  “Well, if you win, your girl’s night is on me. I’ll pick up the tab.”

  Billy had made it clear that the night was on him, I assumed because of Cheyenne being his sister and Reagan being his girlfriend. But that really wasn’t what this was about, at least for me. “And if you win?”

  “Well, if I win you let me take you out on a proper date.”

  I had no interest in dating Knox, but I also had no plans to let Knox win. I hesitated, trying to sell the idea that I was mulling it over. Finally, I took a deep breath, “Okay.”

  “Deal?” Knox offered me his hand.

  I placed my hand in his. “Deal.”

  “Sucker.” I heard someone say.

  I turned around and for the first time noticed a large, bright green parrot with red-tipped wings and a yellow head on a perch in the corner of the room.

  “Shut up, Skittles.” Knox chalked his cue, apparently on a first-name basis with the bird. “He says that when he sees people shake hands.”

  Smart bird.

  I stepped closer to the beautiful, winged smartass. “Hi, Skittles.”

  “Pretty lady,” Skittles squawked.

  “He says that when he sees a pretty lady.”

  The voice I heard behind me didn’t belong to Knox.

  Goosebumps broke out on my bare arms. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck stood up. My heart began to thump so loud I was sure that any second Skittles was going to comment on it.

  I turned, in what felt like slow motion and came face to face with Jimmy. After watching him from across the room all night, the up close and personal view took me by surprise. There was something so sexy about his appearance, and it wasn’t just his perfect jawline. It was the stubble that covered that perfect jawline. And it wasn’t just his honey brown eyes, it was the dark lashes that framed those eyes. And it wasn’t just his thick brown hair, it was the wave that ran through it.

  Every part of him was just a smidge sexier than the average man, and it all added up to quite a lot sexier.

  “Hi.” My greeting was so breathy it was nearly inaudible.

  “Can I help you with somethin’, Comfort?” Knox stepped around the table and joined us. “The lady and I were just about to play a game.”

  “Don’t mind me.” Jimmy lifted his bottle of beer, tilting the neck toward Knox. He nodded at me as he walked past me, his chest brushing against my upper arm. “Bella.”

  His deep voice saying my name instantly transported me back to the cave. Back to when he was saying my name while he was buried deep inside of me. A shiver ran down my spine.

  “It’s Isabella,” Knox corrected him.

  “Is that right?” Jimmy grinned as he leaned his shoulder against the far wall and lifted his beer to his lips, tilting it up as he kept his eyes firmly on mine.

  The way he looked at me caused the wires in my brain to short-circuit. I forgot what I was doing, where I was, what my name was.

  “Just ignore him,” Knox instructed me under his breath.

  Sure. That was going to be easier said than done. As happy as I was that Jimmy was finally paying some attention to me, I was equally as frustrated that he’d chosen this exact moment to do it.

  Even for someone with my skill set, playing pool took concentration. There was no way that I could possibly concentrate with Jimmy staring at me with a look of flirtation like I belonged to him. Any hope I had at focus evaporated faster than dry ice in a sauna.

  As much as I wanted to indulge in all of the emotions and sensations that the predatory look in Jimmy’s eyes was inspiring in me, I had to block it out or I’d be going on a date with Knox.

  Calling on all the training I’d absorbed through osmosis from being in rooms with my father when he made big deals, I blocked Jimmy out. Knox broke and he knocked in a solid and a stripe. He chose stripes. Off that opening break, I was able to gauge everything I needed to.

  I examined the table and could see that he had two fairly easy shots, and the rest were a higher level of difficulty. I would say they were advanced. If he’d had any real skill, he would have chosen solids. Sure, they didn’t have the easy shots, but none of the shots were advanced.

  For the next few minutes, I toyed with him. Missing my shots by an inch or two. Then after he made a lucky shot, I figured it was time to put my plan into motion. Setting my cue against the counter, I pulled my hair up and went work. With precision, I dropped every ball. Within three shots I’d drawn a crowd. By the time I knocked the eight ball into the corner pocket, every eye in the bar was on me and the entire place broke out in cheers.

  The aftermath was a blur. People I didn’t know were congratulating me, giving me high fives. And then I felt him behind me.

  “You hustled Knox.” Jimmy’s voice was low as he spoke close to my ear.

  “What?” I asked, loving the feeling of him standing so close.

  “You hustled him. Those weren’t lucky shots.”

  Maybe I should’ve been embarrassed for being called out, but if anything, I liked the sound in his voice. It almost sounded like pride. I bit my bottom lip to try and stop the smile that was cro
ssing my face, but I couldn’t help myself.

  CHAPTER 25

  Jimmy

  “You really didn’t have to walk me home.”

  “Yes, I did.” I could see that Bella was nervous as we walked along the canal. I couldn’t tell if those nerves were because we were, for all intents and purposes, alone. Or if it was because of the looks, whistles, and comments we’d received as we left the bar. Either way, I wanted to put her at ease. “I absolutely did have to walk you if I didn’t want my hide tanned by Mrs. B and her rolled-up newspaper.”

  Her head fell back and she laughed. It was the first time I’d heard her laugh since she’d walked into the bar tonight, and I couldn’t believe how much I’d missed the sound. Being near her but not with her had been harder than when I’d had to lie perfectly still during a ninety-minute MRI after my four-wheel crash and had a hair tickling my nose. When I’d seen Knox take her back to play pool, my self-control snapped and giving her space was no longer an option. And when she told the girls that she was tired and was going to head out, I couldn’t resist offering my services as an escort.

  As we walked along the path that I’d walked on hundreds if not thousands of times, I couldn’t help but feel like I was doing it for the first time. I had that feeling a lot around Bella. Everything with her felt like the first time. Even sex. Especially sex.

  Nerves pinged through me even though there was a good two feet between us. I had to fist my hands at my side to stop myself from reaching out to her. I’d never had that impulse before. I’d hung out with my fair share of women, enjoyed their company, but I’d never felt compelled to be touching them at all times. I didn’t have the desire to wrap my arms around their waist, to hold their hands, to tug them closer to me.

  My hands weren’t the only things I was having trouble keeping to myself. My eyes kept drifting in her direction. They sliced once more toward her and this time, I didn’t look away. I allowed myself to take in her profile. Some people had good sides, or looked better either face on or at an angle, but Bella wasn’t one of those people. I didn’t think she had a bad side. I couldn’t imagine any angle showcasing something that was less than perfect.