by Meg Harding
Georgina stares over the edge and then turns, pressing her lips to his ear to shout, “We should have brought GoPros for this.”
She goes first, after smacking a loud kiss on Tristan’s mouth. “For luck,” she says. She’s laughing as she leaps because she’s insane. His stomach clenches as he watches her go, his heart speeding up. He thinks Georgina might have to carry Tristan on her back after this one.
He hands his camera to James. “I want you to film me as I go.” He’s going to show this video to everyone he knows if he doesn’t make himself look like an idiot.
James holds the camera up, lens pointing at his own face. “I’m James, and this is the first day of our family reunion. This is how we weed out the weak in the family.” He turns it toward Jackson. “My brother is going to take a flying leap from this cliffside. Will he survive? We sure hope so.”
Bastien smacks him in the back of the head for Jackson.
“Ow!”
Denver stops Jackson before he can go. “Aren’t you going to get a good luck kiss?”
He’d give him the evil eye if so many gazes weren’t focused on him now. He’s going to get him back later. What a way to be a dickwad. Aaron crosses to him, though, not looking at all put out. His long fingers grasp Jackson’s chin and tilt his face up.
His kiss is brief, barely a brushing of lips. “Good luck,” he says, and it’s quiet. Jackson’s probably the only one who could hear it.
He barely notices the ground beneath him as he hurtles toward his destination. All he can think about was how he’d have liked that kiss to be something more. His lips tingle, and he tells himself it’s the wind.
IF ASKED, Aaron would say he’s a pretty athletic type of guy. He spends a good amount of time at the gym. He goes for a run in the mornings. But he’s exhausted by the time they get back to the hotel. His legs burn from the workout they’ve gotten, and his feet ache. Jackson doesn’t look much better. He’s looked a little spacy ever since Aaron kissed him, not that it was much of a kiss. He wonders if Jackson didn’t like it. Maybe the PDA made him uncomfortable?
He’s going to hold true to his promise, though. He sends Jackson to shower first, and he books a massage for the two of them while he’s in there. The hotel will send massage therapists to the room, and they’ll do the massage on the balcony while the sun sets. If that’s not relaxing, Aaron doesn’t know what is.
Jackson comes out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel, his eyes half-closed. He face-plants on the bed, water dripping down onto the sheets. His dirty-blond hair is plastered to his head. His bubble butt is a magnificent swell under the clinging white towel.
One hand waves lazily toward where he came from. “All yours,” he says. He’s snoring by the time Aaron shuts the door.
Aaron gets out of the shower right in time to let the massage therapists in. Jackson doesn’t stir from the bed. He leads them to the balcony to set their tables up while he goes to wake Jackson.
He sits on the bed beside him and shakes his shoulder. “Jackson,” he says. “Jackson.”
Jackson grumbles and turns his face away. Aaron laughs and shakes him harder. “Whaaa?”
“I booked a massage for us,” says Aaron. “But if you keep sleeping, you’re going to miss yours.”
Blue eyes crack open at this. “A massage?”
“With heated stones and all.”
He rolls to his back. The towel comes undone and oh. Oh. Aaron averts his eyes despite not wanting to. Jackson scrambles to cover himself. Even his chest is flushed. Now Aaron knows Jackson does meticulous grooming, having not one hair down there.
He stares at the wall. “I don’t think it’s that kind of massage,” he says, lips twisting in a crooked smile.
It’s the right thing to say. Jackson starts laughing as he sits up, his hand holding the towel firmly in place. “My bad.”
Aaron finds out something new a few minutes into the massages. They haven’t gotten to the hot stone part yet; they’re just doing the initial rubdown. Jackson moans like a porn star. It’s absolutely obscene. He can feel himself getting hard in reaction to the noises Jackson is making as the man kneads his lower back and moves down his legs. The noises turn into breathy “ahs” as the man reaches his feet. Aaron gets that, his are sore from walking all day too and it feels good, but he’s not that vocal about it. He has to bury his face in the pillow at the head of the table and count backward from a hundred.
Thoughts of the noises Jackson would make for him—if he was touching his shoulders with his lips, tracing his tongue down his spine, kneading his fingers into that firm ass—bombard him between every number. His strategy is not working.
It’s the least relaxing massage he’s ever had. The only saving grace is that Jackson’s so tired afterward that he immediately falls asleep on the bed and doesn’t notice Aaron’s taking yet another shower.
A very, very cold one.
He doesn’t know why he bothers. The second he climbs into bed, Jackson rolls to half cover him, face pressed into his neck.
Aaron’s in way over his head, and they haven’t even begun to act all that coupley yet. He is so fucked.
Chapter Six
THE SCHEDULE says the event of the day is paintball. Jackson doesn’t understand what paintball has to do with seeing Hawaii. He’ll add it to the list of things he’s going to ask Aaron—maybe he’ll have a good guess—but first Aaron has to wake up. He’s on his stomach, his arms clasped around his pillow. His lashes are dark against his skin, his hair spiked and a complete mess. He snores.
Jackson wants to kiss him.
It’s not a new revelation, but it’s one he’s thinking maybe he doesn’t have to ignore. See, he’s got an idea. Jackson woke up god-awful early when he realized he was lying on Aaron like he was a human blanket. And suddenly Aaron’s comment about him moving while he slept made sense. But Aaron didn’t look bothered, and he wasn’t awake or trying to shift Jackson away. His face was buried in Jackson’s hair, each exhale making the strands flutter over Jackson’s forehead.
He felt warm and comfortable.
Sure they’re fake dating and Georgina’s paying Aaron (she refused to let Jackson pay), but what if they dated for real? Or, well, not dated. What if Aaron could be his rebound? He’s had more than one friend swear by them. He’s always been a serial monogamist. What if he indulges in a fling? It could be just what he needs. A change of pace, as it were. Aaron seems to be nice—and if they’re only together for two weeks, that doesn’t give him time to hit the grumpy post new-and-shiny phase.
He gets tired of waiting and contemplating the situation at about seven in the morning—the schedule is no longer a suitable distraction—and slides from the bed. He’ll go for a swim, and surely Aaron will be awake by the time he gets back.
Except he’s not.
Jackson’s towel is around his shoulders, and he’s leaving a puddle on the tile floor. He’s starting to shiver. The AC in the room is not kind to his wet skin. All right. He’ll shower, then. It’s almost seven thirty. Aaron’s a grown man with a job—albeit an odd one, but some people must have morning or brunch weddings and dates—his body clock won’t let him sleep in till noon.
Jackson hops in the shower, and he even takes his time. Just in case Aaron needs a little longer to wake up.
When he emerges, dry and dressed in shorts and a tank, Aaron has moved. But he’s still asleep. Now he’s on his back, sprawled across the bed, limbs flung wide. He’s kicked the comforter into a ball at the bottom of the bed. His morning wood is tenting the thin white sheet barely covering him. Jackson averts his eyes before the temptation becomes too much.
Jackson thinks about his options. Maybe he’s rushing into things. Maybe it’s not a good idea. Aaron is being paid after all. Would sleeping with him be considered prostitution? Technically he’s paying him to pretend to date him. He’s not paying for sex. That’s not included in the package. So if he’s being precise about it, it’s not really prostitution
.
He needs a second opinion. But whose does he want? Georgina might automatically say no. He doesn’t think she can be properly objective. Laurence is out of the question. His advice to James was to lie. Jackson doesn’t need that kind of mess. Which rules out James, who was dumb enough to take Laurence’s advice. That leaves Dorian and Denver. He imagines the teasing, how fast the news will spread to the whole family. And then it hits him. Bastien!
He leaves a note on the kitchen counter to say he’s gone for a walk, and he heads one condo over to bang on the door.
James answers it with a coffee in one hand and a grumpy, narrow-eyed look on his face. “What do you want?”
“Good morning to you too,” says Jackson. “Could I borrow Bastien? I was thinking he’d be perfect company for my walk.”
James scrunches his eyes to thin slits, but he backs away from the door and lets Jackson in. “My birthday’s already happened.”
“I know.” He rolls his eyes. As if he needs Bastien’s advice for presents. “This isn’t about you, oh conceited one.” He looks around the room. Bastien’s sitting on the couch, his red curls askew, and their gazes meet. Jackson smiles. “Want to go for a walk?”
“Sure,” says Bastien slowly. His lips are red and puffy. Jackson’s thinking he interrupted something.
He waits till Bastien has disappeared into his room to grab sunblock to glance at James. “You should keep that to your room. You don’t need to scar our sister.”
James snorts. “If anyone’s going to scar someone it’s going to be her scarring me. I’m never going to be able to listen to a Southern accent the same way.” His expression is one of pure horror.
Jackson would laugh, but well, Georgina’s his sister too. He scrunches his face up and chooses not to say anything. He’d rather not think about it.
Bastien comes back, streaks of white on his pale skin, and James steps forward and starts rubbing them in with his free hand. His fingers linger on Bastien’s bare shoulder. “You’re going to have even more freckles,” he says, sounding delighted. Bastien’s face goes a fiery red, and he bats James’s hand away.
“Later.” His bright blue gaze meets Jackson’s. “I’m ready.”
Neither of them are wearing shoes, so they walk right down to the ocean and start a lazy pace with the water licking around their calves. The sun is already high in the brilliantly azure sky, the waves rolling in with quiet rumbles. Boats bob farther out, but the beach is mostly deserted here. It’s reserved for the hotel, and Jackson supposes most people are still asleep. It’s very peaceful.
They’ve gone a good distance without speaking when Jackson finally works himself up to discussing the situation at hand. “What do you think about me making my arrangement with Aaron not-so-fake?”
It probably says something that Bastien doesn’t look at all surprised. “If you like him, and you want to, I think it would be really good for you. Georgina vouched for him, so you know he’s a good person. He won’t fuck you over.”
Jackson nibbles on his bottom lip. “I was thinking… what if it was just for these two weeks? Dipping my toes back into things, if you will.”
Bastien does look shocked at that. “You want to have a fling?”
“Yeah.” He shrugs. “We live in different states. He’s an escort. Trying to make this an actual relationship would be a bit of a stretch.” He isn’t sure if he would be willing to put his heart back in such a vulnerable position.
“His being an escort doesn’t deter you from this?”
Jackson shakes his hand from side to side. “Technically speaking, he’s being paid to act like my date and nothing else. This is something different.”
Bastien doesn’t respond right away, but his expression is clearly thoughtful, so Jackson leaves him to it. Eventually Bastien says, “I’m going to say my original answer stands. If you want to and he wants to, then go for it.” He smiles. “This is technically a vacation. You should get to have some fun.”
“I think I will,” says Jackson. He just has to figure out how to get Aaron on board. “Do you think he’ll… want me?”
Bastien looks incredulous. “Take a minute to watch his face when he’s looking at you. He’s either the best actor ever or he finds you hopelessly adorable. And if the money is a problem, you can always offer to stop paying for his services.”
Jackson wrinkles his nose. “Adorable. That’s what I’ve always wanted to be considered.”
Scooping up a shell, Bastien flicks the water clinging to his fingers at Jackson’s face. “When I look at you, I think of a giant yellow Lab. Adorable.”
There’s only one thing to do. Jackson tackles him. They land in the water, causing a big splash, and he digs his fingers into Bastien’s sides till the man is howling with laughter. “Now who’s a Labrador?” he asks around his own giggles.
“I’m never taking it back,” gasps Bastien.
Jackson’s going to show him adorable.
“I SAY we order without him,” says Dorian.
“I second that,” says Denver. “I don’t see why we have to starve because of him.”
Aaron’s close to caving in. His stomach is gnawing on itself, angrily grumbling its need for food. He doesn’t want to make the hotel staff come back multiple times, though. “We’ll give your brother five more minutes.” Aaron has no clue how Jackson gathered up enough energy after the day before to be up and about so early.
They both curse, but neither reaches for the phone to place a room-service order. The condo has a kitchen. They need to set aside some time to grocery shop.
The door opens. Aaron tilts his head on the back of the couch. Jackson’s standing in the doorway, absolutely soaked, with clumps of sand and seaweed tangled in his hair. His bare feet are covered in sand, little miniscule shells adding color to the tops. His shorts are definitely not board shorts, and he’s wearing a tank top that is clinging to his chest for all it’s worth.
“What happened to you?” he asks.
“Did you roll on the beach?” asks Dorian.
Jackson shuffles in place, having the grace to look sheepish. “I went for a walk with Bastien. There may have been a tussle.”
That elicits raised eyebrows.
He rubs his face and grimaces as a streak of sand is left behind. Aaron gets up to go find a towel. “Did you even try to clean off?” he calls from the bedroom. He’s going to have to leave their cleaners a tip. He brings the towel back out, and Jackson reaches for it, looking mightily disappointed when Aaron puts it on the floor at his feet. “If you step on this, you can shimmy your way into the shower without getting sand all over.”
Jackson’s lower lip protrudes, but he obligingly steps onto the towel and starts a hilarious shuffle toward their room. Aaron doesn’t know whether to laugh till he’s crying or be mesmerized by the way the short, quick motions make Jackson’s ass jiggle.
When he glances at the twins, they’re both giving him knowing looks. His cheeks heat. “We can order now,” he says. “I’ll check and see what Jackson wants in a minute.” He’s not going to risk going in too soon and seeing him unclothed, tempting though it may be.
Food is ordered, and it gets there in time for Jackson to emerge newly dressed and all traces of his walk gone. He sits next to Aaron on the couch, their legs pressed together from thigh to ankle. Jackson’s very warm. Aaron doesn’t comment.
“So what happened between you and Bastien?” asks Denver nosily.
“Nothing,” says Jackson. “We were just playing around.”
“Playing around?” repeats Dorian, eyebrow arched skeptically.
Jackson stares at him, his cheeks flushing. “I took offense to something he called me, and I knocked him over. We proceeded to do battle as I tried to get him to take it back.”
Aaron almost chokes on his pancake. “Do battle?” he asks when he can breathe again.
“I may have tickled him.”
His cheeks are rosy apples by the time everyone finally manages
to stop laughing. No matter how much they prod, though, he won’t reveal what Bastien called him.
Before they know it, it’s time to go meet everyone in the courtyard for an afternoon of paintball. Aaron doesn’t know whether this is going to be highly fun or intensely painful. He’s done it before, several years ago, and he was decent. He’s not sure he trusts this family with such things, however.
Jackson leans against his side as they wait for James and Georgina to come out. “I wanted to ask you this morning, do you have any idea what this has to do with seeing Hawaii?”
“No.” He doesn’t know why Jackson thinks he would have a clue.
Jackson slips an arm around his waist.
Aaron glances down at him. His cheeks are pinking. “What’re you doing?” he asks. He doesn’t mind it, but this is all very sudden for Jackson.
He starts to withdraw, worry creasing his forehead. “Oh. Sorry. Do you not like… I just thought….”
Aaron pulls him back. “If you like it, then it’s fine. I like it,” he says. “Remember what I told you?” Maybe someone made a comment to him about them not acting physically affectionate enough.
He feels Jackson’s fingers curl around one of his belt loops. “I like it,” he says. “It’s nice.” There’s nothing in his tone to suggest he’s lying, so Aaron wraps his arm around Jackson’s shoulders in return. The embrace won’t last long, it’s hot outside, and he can already feel himself becoming too heated. He doesn’t want to let go, though.