Uncomplicated Choices

by Cara Dee

  I landed on a large, flat boulder, and the only thing out of place was a candy wrapper left by a stupid person. "Idiots." I picked it up and opened the cooler to grab one of the empty bags from lunch. We could throw the trash in there now, I reckoned. "What?" I noticed Ellis was watching me, all observant-like.

  He shook his head, a ghost of a smile appearing. "Nothing."

  Guess who wasn’t a talker.

  Whatever, I needed a cooldown—stat. The water was almost clear, revealing the blurry, rocky bottom of the pool. As I retightened the drawstrings of my trunks, I spotted a log here and there, too. Pebbles and sand filled the cracks.

  Ellis got his shades back.

  Lastly, I removed the shirt around my neck and took a deep breath. This was going to be cold as fuck. Stepping closer, I said, "If I scream like a girl, don't hold it against me."

  He laughed quietly and sat down on the boulder. "It shouldn’t be that cold."

  I smirked to myself. For once, I knew what I was talking about. When I was close enough, I toed the water surface and shivered. Yup, definitely cold. "You see the patterns in the rock up there?" I pointed to the mountainside from where the water rushed out. The swirling, pitter-pattering, gushing sounds were naturally mouthwatering. It was the sound of a life source.

  "Yes?" Ellis's forehead was creased when I glanced at him over my shoulder. "You mean with the cracks?"

  I nodded. Layers upon layers of flattened rock. "Right. Exposed bedrock—and the water comes directly from the mountain. So unless there's a reservoir at the top of the mountain, or a heat source nearby, water from any aquifer is gonna freeze your nuts off." Here go my nuts. I sucked in a breath and then dove in before I could chicken out. Oh my fucking—God. I stiffened, my body screaming. Then the rush reached my head, and it was rejuvenating and goddamn perfect. The cold soothed my neck and woke me up, and I resurfaced with a hissed curse and a grin.

  Tasty water, too.

  I pushed back my hair and squinted at a smiling Ellis.

  "I want to hear more about your job," he said as I told him, "You should get in."

  We grinned.

  There was a silent agreement of sorts. He stood up to get ready to join me, and I prattled on about the waterfall. The slightly milky blue hue of the water was probably due to dissolving limestone, which was common in the several hot springs on the island. As he removed his tee, I did my best not to gawk at his perfectly sculpted chest by sharing a story from school. A group of us went up to Tofino to study the tidal pools for a project, and…yeah, that was cool. Fucking hell, he looked good.

  He looked at me quizzically. "What was the purpose of studying them? I can't see the connection, I suppose." Between that and landscape engineering.

  "Geology and hydrogeology—big part of what I do." I swam backward a little, my mouth right at the surface, as he stepped closer to the edge. "The more I know about nature, the more I can utilize it."

  "That makes sense." Hands on his hips, he eyed the water with a level of reluctance. He didn’t stall either, though. He released a breath, then dove in gracefully.

  I smiled and tasted the water, only to cough a chuckle when he emerged with a vicious, "Motherfucker."

  I tsk'd him and told him he had such a potty mouth. Not that he cared. Not that I cared. Because only a wet Ellis was hotter than a dry Ellis, and all I could do was stare. Jesus. Water sluiced down his broad shoulders, his already dark hair turned black and glistening, and the lines of his muscles looked more pronounced.

  I was pretty sure I silenced the shrinkage alert. My cock certainly worked in cold water.

  Down, boy.

  Dunking my head underwater seemed like the best option. Then, distance.

  *

  An hour of chilling in the water, catching some sun, and talking to Ellis was all I needed to realize I had a problem on my hands. We didn’t touch on any particularly important topics, keeping it at music, film, and a bit about our jobs, but it was enough for my brain to start making notes. We have that, that, that, and that in common. I was hopeless. This happened every damn time I carried a torch for someone.

  It was nothing new, and to be honest, I didn’t mind it too much. Outlandish scenarios were amusing. In my head, I'd been married at least a dozen times, lived in several countries, and ended up with more children than I could count. A new possible life paved its own road every time I met someone I clicked well with. Then…none of those had been married, nor had they been straight—if they were men. Lastly, I'd called none of them family.

  Ellis ticked all those boxes.

  Getting out of the water, I dug around his duffel bag for two towels and kept one for myself. I fanned it out across half a boulder and sat my ass down with a bottle of sunscreen and my shirt. The sun was brutal today, and I definitely complained about it to Ellis.

  He chuckled, swimming lazily in the water. Closer and closer to the waterfall.

  "If it makes you feel any better, it's going to rain tomorrow," he replied.

  It did make me feel better.

  I bet spending a day on the boat watching movies while the rain pattered down would be cozy.

  Hmm. But I was going home tomorrow. Ellis was going to spend a ridiculous amount of money on fuel to get me back to Camassia. Then he'd return to his vacationing in this area, exploring hidden gems like waterfalls, good spots for fishing, maybe sit back and read a book before watching the sunset…

  Great. I'd officially turned into a willing captive.

  I was a kidnapping slut.

  Once I'd dumped another generous amount of sunscreen on my body, I draped my shirt over my shoulders and lay back to absorb some of the heat I'd lost in the water. Fuck, it felt nice. Goose bumps rose on my skin, the sun's warmth blanketing me until I felt snug as a bug in a rug.

  I missed Haley. The thought of her horrified squeals at the cold water here put a smile on my face, and I hoped I could show her this place someday.

  "I could get used to this." I closed my eyes and yawned, crossing my ankles and folding an arm under my head. "I think I need my own minion factory so I can take vacations more often."

  Ellis's quiet laugh sounded closer than I excepted. He must've left the waterfall.

  "Is that a thing? Minion factories, I mean."

  "Well, you have one," I said drowsily. "Hundreds of employees these days…"

  "A bit of an exaggeration, drama queen." He was coming out of the water, judging by the sound of it. "I expanded a couple years ago. I wanted more than advertising."

  I knew he'd moved; that was about it. "How did you expand—goddammit!" My eyes shot open as icy droplets of water pricked my skin like fucking needles. "You asshole!" I reached out and smacked his leg out of instinct, and he laughed.

  "I couldn't resist." He smirked down at me, then took a step back to arrange his towel next to mine.

  "I'm extremely disgruntled," I decided. "Were you a bully as a kid?"

  He snorted and sat down. "Are you telling me you wouldn’t have jumped at the opportunity to do the same to me?"

  I waved a hand. "We're not talking about me now, princess."

  "How convenient for you." He pulled the cooler closer and rummaged through it for drinks and snacks, and it took long enough for me to drop the banter. I was still curious about this expansion at his work. Hell, I was curious about everything where he was concerned.

  "Before you shook your head over me like a dog…you were talking about expanding your business," I told him.

  "Mm." He inclined his head and opened a bottle of water. "We went from advertising to include PR and production. I didn’t have space for a photography studio at my old office."

  And now they did. I'd have to pay a visit sometime to razz him. Maybe bring lunch. "Does that mean you get sexy models parading all over the place?"

  "Yes, Casey. I turned the building into a catwalk. You nailed it."

  I grinned. He had the hottest fucking drawl when he went into deadpan mode.

  Godd
amn, I really didn’t wanna go home tomorrow.

  *

  We left the waterfall sometime later to be able to get back to Renfrew before it got dark.

  "We never did any fishing," I mentioned. "Did you even bring the poles?"

  Heh…poles.

  "Plenty of food in the fridge." He slowed down and steered us toward the yacht, the area outside of the marina packed with sailboats and people enjoying the late-afternoon sun. "Worst-case scenario, I'll add some spices and butter on you." He eyed me over the rims of his shades. "You look about cooked and done."

  "You can eat me any time." I palmed my forehead and winced. If I didn’t know better, I'd think I was running a fever. "How red am I?"

  His mouth twitched. "I'm sure there are those who are drawn to skinny tomatoes."

  Oh, fucking wonderful.

  I wasn't skinny, though. Maybe in comparison to a tomato, but that was it. Building up my company had also built up my body a bit. I wouldn’t have nobody knockin' that shit down.

  As we reached the yacht, Ellis sidled up along the bathing platform and killed the engine. Then he was out of the tender, and he extended a hand to me.

  I grabbed the duffel and the cooler, then his hand. "I'm gonna go call Haley before we're out of cell service again."

  "Good idea." He nodded. "I'll get everything ready here—wait." The second I had both feet on the yacht, he gently clasped my shoulder, his expression blending into one of concern. "Kidding aside, you're not very red, but you did burn yourself today." He placed his other hand on my forehead.

  The close proximity made it harder for me to suck air into my lungs. My eyes searched his face, greedy and taking advantage of the opportunity to get a better look. The rough stubble was glinting in lighter shades in some places, bleached by the sun. Same with his hair; a few streaks of a lighter brown were appearing. He was all warmth and kindness. From the silver and the crow's feet to the rich brown and the soulful eyes.

  "You should put on some after-sun lotion," he murmured, lowering his gaze to look me in the eye. Hi. He'd just noticed how close he was. He swallowed and furrowed his brow slightly, then removed his hand, cleared his throat, and looked away. There was a silent whoosh of tension going with him as our contact broke, and I managed to draw a breath.

  I was screwed, wasn’t I?

  "I'll, uh…" I gestured vaguely toward the dock. "I'll go call Haley."

  He nodded and stepped back.

  *

  I found a bench outside a tourist info center slash ice cream shop and spent a good twenty minutes listening to Haley telling me about all the cool rides and pretty princesses. I wore a stupid smile and got misty-eyed, and fuck, I missed her like crazy.

  She was my hugger. When I felt particularly lonely, a Haley hug made all the difference. It lessened the pressure in my chest.

  "But, Daddy? Uncle Lincoln won't wear his crown anymore." There was a pout in her voice. "Just that one time."

  I chuckled and rubbed at my eyes. "Will you bring home a crown for me? I'll wear mine, I promise."

  She giggled. "Yes! Auntie Ade picked a blue for you. Mine is blue also."

  "Perfect. Then we'll wear matching crowns," I told her. "What're you guys doing today?"

  "I dunno…" She got quiet when someone spoke to her in the background. "Oh, um…we're going to, um, Paris?" It was Adeline who confirmed it, and Haley added, "Yeah, Paris. What's Paris?"

  "It's a beautiful city." I smiled, absently pressing a hand on my neck to check the sunburn. "I'm sure you'll have tons of fun. Will you take pictures for Daddy so I can see when you get home?"

  "I'll take lots!" she promised. "We gotta go, Daddy. I love you!"

  "I love you too, baby. So much. Give Lyn a hug from me, will you?"

  "I will!"

  The call disconnected, and I rubbed at my chest, in desperate need of one of her hugs right now. Blowing out a breath, I leaned back for a second and glanced over at the yacht. Ellis was on the upper deck with the mechanic who'd brought the new battery or charger or whatever it was.

  I needed to shake the melancholy before I faced Ellis again, so I did what any self-respecting person did in this situation. I went meme hunting. Finding a handful that was sufficiently funny, I added them all in a blog post and told my readers I'd be back soon.

  Then it was time to be the funny guy again.

  Chapter 9

  I offered to cook dinner when we got back to the little cove, and it worked well enough to distract me and stow away the last of the blah feelings. It also helped that I could sample the bourbon I used to make the sauce with.

  "That's the—"

  "Jesus!" I jumped and spun around to see Ellis in the doorway to his bedroom. Or cabin—whatever.

  "—third shot. That I've seen you take." His mouth twisted up.

  My racing heart twisted, too. He looked delicious coming out from his shower. "They're baby sips, not shots. I'm sampling." And he needed to go get dressed. Wearing only a towel could get someone killed, and not him.

  "If you say so, you lush." He chuckled and walked over to open the fridge. "What's for dinner?"

  You?

  "Cajun chicken, bourbon sauce, and rice—and the salad you're going to make while I shower." I turned my back on him before I'd be forced to watch him chug water, too.

  "That sounds delicious." He came up behind me and carefully felt my neck. The light sensation gave me tremors, and I stiffened. "No more sun for you. Does it hurt?"

  I couldn’t speak all of a sudden, so my "only a little" became a head shake.

  Stupid fucking side-effect of my crushes. I turned into an awkward spaz sometimes.

  Luckily for me, I got my shit together as quickly as I lost it. "If you wanna be my cooling pad, you're hired." 'Cause it felt amazing.

  He laughed under his breath and turned his hand over. Fuck, yeah.

  "So good," I mumbled, struggling to keep my eyes open. The chicken wouldn’t fry itself though, so I forced myself to function. When the oil started sizzling in the pan, I dropped a dozen chicken bits in there, then checked the rice.

  "Do you enjoy cooking?" Ellis removed his hand—a fucking travesty—and leaned back against the counter next to me.

  "Depends. If I'm cooking for someone, yeah—a lot." I poked at the chicken, keeping my eyes on it. Otherwise, I'd burn it too damn easily. A lesson I'd learned several times. "I guess I'm like that with most things." I frowned, thinking about it. Was I a typical couple person? Was everything more fun if I did it with someone?

  I wasn’t sure that was a good thing. People should enjoy their own company too, right?

  Fuck if I knew.

  "You thrive in a relationship," Ellis murmured.

  I hesitated, and I didn’t know why I was reluctant to answer. "Maybe." Perhaps I was reluctant because it became even more glaringly obvious how much I hated being alone.

  I didn’t worry about being one of those who jumped into relationships for the sake of it. I wasn’t that desperate, and I didn’t drag it out if the person I dated wasn’t right for me. Despite the difficulties I had to find someone who wanted me for me, I did succeed on occasion, and I wasn’t a stranger to calling things off. But, yeah…with the right person, I loved to become a unit that nurtured what they created.

  "Might be a theory that has too little practice." I added another teaspoon of honey to the sauce to take away a bit of the sting from the bourbon. "My success rate with relationships isn't the best."

  The longest one so far lasted approximately a year.

  Go me.

  *

  Pleasure surged in my gut when Ellis devoured dinner. I was such a fucking pleaser. Sitting on the sofa in the upper deck lounge with my plate in my lap, I stared at him—discreetly, I hoped—long enough to almost forget to eat my own food.

  "What does Three Dots stand for in your company?" There. Good distraction. I'd borrowed a pair of sweats from Ellis after my shower, and it said, "The Three Dots Agency" along the gray pant
leg. He wore the same sweats, only in black.

  Ellis leaned forward over his plate, chewing on a piece of chicken while he glanced at the print on my leg.

  Had I stumbled upon a secret? He looked like he didn’t want to answer. Of course, that made me want to know the truth even more.

  "You couldn’t have asked another question?" He offered a small, rueful smile. "Like what's my favorite color?"

  "I won't be derailed that easily, but I guess I can let it slide for now." I forked up some rice and salad drenched in hot and sweet bourbon sauce. "I don't think you have a favorite color."

  He cocked his head, curious. "What makes you think that?"

  I chewed and swallowed, then reached for my Pepsi. "You're way too practical to get hung up on personal preference." Additionally, he was a man in marketing. It was little about what he wanted and a whole lot about what others wanted. "If I were to guess, I'd say you think every color is great for the right purpose. Or something like that."

  His brows lifted a fraction before he took a swig of his beer and returned to his food. Which was frustrating. He was being elusive again, dammit. Had I nailed it or not? I couldn’t say I'd given it a lot of thought. It was just at the top of my head. He was practical. And I couldn’t remember him favoring a particular color in shirts, ties, his car…or anything. He was great at matching, when I thought back on it. He knew aesthetics. He put thought into that.

  "For as long as I've known my wife, she's thought my favorite color was blue." He wiped his mouth on a napkin, done with his dinner. "Apparently, I wore a blue shirt on our first date." Leaning back against the cushions, he let out a sigh and peered up at the tinted sunroof. "It never occurred to me that I was supposed to have a favorite color. It was one of those silly little things."