He looked around the kitchen for what he needed.
oOo
Ten minutes later, Regina walked into the kitchen in her T-shirt and panties.
“Oh, no!” She jumped, shocked to find her glorious Paul in her apartment.
“Good morning.” Paul took a sip of his coffee.
Regina gulped air when she remembered to breathe. Adonis couldn’t possibly have looked as beautiful sitting at her kitchen table, reading a magazine, her Popular Photography magazine.
“Morning,” she squeaked. She backed out of the kitchen, not taking her eyes off him until she slithered into her bedroom, slowly closed her door, and acted out having a silent fit. She ran to Tracy’s bed and shook her awake. “Paul’s here again, he’s here. Paul’s here!”
Tracy and Regina dressed in record time and stumbled into the kitchen, trying, but failing, to act nonchalant. Paul still sipped on his coffee, working hard to make his cup last, but it had cooled to almost freezing a while ago.
“Good morning ladies. If you’ll excuse me, I’d better get to the shop.” He rose from the table, rinsed his cup, and walked into Rhees’ bedroom. He left the door open and plopped himself onto her bed, waking her up by draping his body over her and running his tongue up her face from her jaw to her temple. Rhees squealed in protest—just the reaction he’d hoped for.
“You’re very cooperative this morning,” he grinned cheerfully.
“What?” She dried her cheek with the sheet.
“Nothing.” He chuckled and then he began tickling her while she squealed vehemently for him to stop. He continued until Tracy and Regina crept to the door to sneak a peek at what was happening. He pretended not to notice them there.
“I’m heading to the shop now.” He spoke loud enough to ensure the roommates heard, but then spoke quietly to Rhees. “Stay in bed. Get some rest. Come with Tracy and Regina, so you don’t have to walk alone, okay?”
“I can come now. I only need a minute.”
“No!” He made sure his voice projected the desired sternness. “Stay in bed.” He got up and pulled his shirt on, slipped into his flip flops and finally buttoned his jeans. He walked to the door and paused, looking back at Rhees with a mischievous grin on his face.
His voice louder this time, he said, “Don’t think just because you’re sleeping with the boss, it means you can be late!”
He pulled her bedroom door closed, knowing Tracy and Regina had raced back into their bedroom, trying to avoid getting caught eavesdropping. They peeked out of their room as he hung the padlock in the hook, locking Rhees in her room.
“She’s going to want to kill me. Don’t let her out until I’ve had a good head start, okay?” He gave them a wink, letting them in on his prank, but then he hesitated as if asking them a very personal favor. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone I spent the night—you understand, right?”
With that, he ran out the door and down the stairs. Tracy and Regina squealed at the thought of Paul spending the night at their apartment again, and not on the couch this time. Being in on his game with Rhees was just icing on the cake.
“Paul! Open this door!” Rhees pounded from inside her room, not knowing he’d already left. “Paul!”
The two friends looked at each other with wide eyes and burst into Rhees’ room. “What’s going on? Are you and Paul really . . .?” They squealed so excitedly, it almost scared Rhees.
“Tell us everything! Everyone’s been wondering, but we didn’t know for sure.” Tracy prepared herself to hear the greatest gossip ever.
“I cannot believe I did not know. I am sure I looked like a complete idiot with my mouth all hanging open, staring at his gentles, while the most—”
“His gen-i-tals?” Tracy corrected, biting back a laugh. “You mean his crotch?”
“Yes. Staring at the most beautiful genitals, I mean crotch, I mean—” Regina slapped her forehead at how frustrated he’d left her. “—I could do nothing but gawk as the most beautiful man in the world sat, drinking his coffee in my kitchen. You should have told us he was here, that you two were—” Regina suddenly stopped and thought about it. Her excitement evaporated as she realized. She’d never have a chance.
Rhees stood, dumbfounded. She just now understood what Paul was up to and it amazed and annoyed her he hadn’t given her warning . . . or instructions.
“Paul and I have spent every night together since you found him on the couch . . . you know, the night you were both getting picture-perfect proof.” The words already out of her mouth, she realized they wouldn’t take what she said as innocently as it really was. She groaned at being sabotaged. “I’m going to kill him.”
“No way!” Regina shrieked. “He has been right next door—from where I sleep—and I did not know? How did I not know this thing?”
“You guys always come home so late and sleep late. Paul and I go to bed early and get up early.” The truth worked for Rhees.
“So, it’s official? He got you!” Tracy swooned. Regina looked shocked.
“Got me?” Rhees’ mouth dropped open. She didn’t like the sound of it. “Geeminy, that sounds so . . . flattering.”
“Is it not true?” Regina looked smug, letting her jealously show a little.
Rhees blushed. No, not true, but she knew they believed it. She resisted the urge to set them straight.
“I guess.”
“He’s been here the last few nights,” Tracy said thoughtfully. “Will he be here again tonight?”
Rhees wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say. Paul shouldn’t have left her on her own. She shrugged and went with coy.
“I dunno. You’ll have to ask him.” Rhees shrugged again, proud of herself for putting the ball back in Paul’s court. “I need to get dressed. You heard him. He said not to be late.”
Their mouths dropped with envy when she took Paul’s T-shirt off, the one she’d slept in. She stuffed it into her duffle bag, and ran into the bathroom to throw on her swimming suit and pull on some shorts. She decided she wouldn’t bother with a T-shirt today. Her roommates stood in her doorway, gaping at her as she slipped into her sandals.
“You guys coming to the shop, or not?”
oOo
Paul saw Rhees from out of the office window. He could tell by the look on her face, she was coming for him. He smiled, and with playful anticipation, ran out of the office to the far edge of the dock, Rhees on his heels. He laughed readily, making everyone turn to look—just what he wanted. With excited, sparkling eyes, he held his hands up and turned sideways to her in mock defense, laughing.
She tried to push him into the water, but he’d expected it, and she didn’t manage to even budge him. He grabbed her around the waist and picked her up, and when she tried to wrestle him off, he turned that into a playful bout of grappling until they both laughed and wound up holding each other, smiling.
He’d changed into his trunks, shirtless, and the body contact with her deck attire felt suddenly intimate. Without thinking, he kissed her, but she snapped back with a gasp. He winced, wishing he could take it back, and didn’t know how to save it, with her or all the spectators.
“You locked me in my room!” She forced the shocked look off her face and feigned a childish pout. “I’m not a child. You cannot lock me in my room.”
Fully aware how everyone’s eyes feasted, watching the show, he smiled gratefully at her quick thinking. He let her down, breaking contact with her warm body in hopes of getting his brain back. She pulled him to the far side of the deck so they could speak privately.
“You planted a bunch of questions in Tracy and Regina’s minds, and then left me on my own to answer them.” She gave him a bug-eyed look. “Are you crazy?”
He smiled again. She’d figured out how he’d ambushed her into putting th
eir plan into action.
“What?” His expression turned playfully indignant. “Did you expect me to stick around and talk to them about the birds and the bees?”
“And you thought I was the better candidate to give that talk?” She arched a brow, folded her arms, and waited for him to consider what she meant.
He suddenly felt worried about something. “You do know where babies come from, right? You said you never had sex education in school—I just realized you might not—”
“Yes, Paul.” She seemed offended. “My mom explained it all to me.”
“My mom’s a doctor—you’d be amazed how ignorant people can be.” His shoulders relaxed with relief, but then his mischievous grin slowly returned. He leaned in closer and used a deeper voice than usual. “I bet she didn’t demonstrate. I know I promised, but I think people learn better when there’s a demonstration—it’d be purely educational. The stories I’ve heard about misconceptions—”
His mom had told stories of the ridiculous things she and her colleagues needed to explain to their patients over the years. He was telling the truth—but it also made for a good tease. He’d never known anyone as sexually uptight as Rhees.
“—So I know how important it is to know this stuff. I could live with a broken promise if it was for the sake of your education.”
“You know, there is one part of it I’ve been confused about. A demonstration would be helpful.” The look on her face expressed pure bewilderment. The look on his suddenly became much too hopeful. “Doesn’t it hurt—” She paused and looked directly into his eyes.
She was serious and he grew nervous. All humor dropped from his face—he’d never been with a virgin and didn’t know the answer for sure. He’d heard it hurt, but how much, for how long? What could he say?
“I mean,” she continued, “when the stork drops the baby down the chimney—how does the baby not get hurt?” A slow smile grew on her face and she was giggling by the time she finished. “Do you think the soot works like padding? Or maybe it’s like Santa. He doesn’t get hurt dropping down the chimney either.”
Paul rubbed his chin and watched her laugh at his expense, full of admiration for this woman. She never ceased to amaze—or confuse—the hell out of him.
She rolled her eyes. “Next time you come up with a plan to get this pretend romance rolling, could you please give me a heads up?” He’d lowered his defenses and Rhees gave him another push, managing to knock him off the deck. He gave her a touché wink before plunging into the water.
Her hands flew to her mouth, shocked it’d worked. She stood frozen as satisfied surprise turned to horror . . . Paul swam toward the ladder faster than she thought humanly possible, sporting a, you’re going to be so sorry, look. She screamed and ran toward the office, wondering why everyone just stood around, too stunned at the unusual familiarity between them to move out of her way.
She screamed again and shuddered giddily when she made it into the office and grabbed Claire, positioning her like a shield. Paul had unbelievably made it out of the water in record time and dogged her heels until she flew through the office door. He reached in after her, barely missed grabbing her arm, but he stopped short of following her inside. He didn’t want to risk the water dripping from his sizeable frame, flying all over the office, damaging the computers or the paperwork.
She covered her mouth with her hands again and watched him, concerned about what he might do next.
“You’re safe . . . for now.” He exaggerated his wink. “But I plan to take it out on you, later.” He bit his bottom lip and grinned salaciously before turning back toward the deck. Everyone stood watching, faces curious. “No one has anything better to do than stand around? We have a boat to load.”
Claire turned to Rhees, aghast. “Are you—did you—are you and Paul?”
The humor of the situation evaporated immediately. Leading everyone on, in general, didn’t seem so hard, but this was Claire. Rhees couldn’t bring herself to lie. She shook her head, shamefacedly.
“Thank God! I knew you were smarter than that, but you had me worried for a second.”
Chapter 4
“Rhees?” Paul stopped at the little window of her bedroom that faced the porch. He’d walked her home and left her to get ready for the deck party later that night while he ran back to his place to shower. “Are you decent?”
“I’m dressed. You can come in.” He heard her unlock her bedroom door and reach over to take the lock off the screen door. He followed her inside and stopped to watch her. She reached for her shoes, the bronze sandals, but seemed preoccupied and didn’t look up at him.
The brown dress didn’t survive the Rohpynol, and he missed it. He’d asked his laundry lady to try, but the vomit stains wouldn’t come out—no dry cleaners on the island. The sadness of the loss didn’t last long though as he watched Rhees from the doorway.
She wore his second favorite outfit, the orange floral shirt and white shorts always looked great on her. He thought about it—everything she wore looked great on her. She had a unique sense of style, classic, crisp, clean . . . modest—he leaned against the doorjamb and admired the view as she put her foot up on the chair to fasten the strap on her sandal. She did the same on the other foot.
“Mm.” He grunted to show his appreciation. “You look very nice. But I can’t believe you’re already dressed. I thought there was some universal rule. Girls are required to take hours getting ready.” He thought of all the hours of his life he’d never get back, waiting for girls to get ready just to go out. It annoyed him. He just wanted to eat or go get a drink. In most cases, he’d already had them. He didn’t care what they looked like anymore.
“It’s easy to be fast here,” she said. “I hate cold showers—no lingering there. I get clean. I get out. I don’t have a hair dryer—so drip dry.” She pointed to her still damp hair. “Also—no curling iron—this is as good as it gets. And even if I tried on everything I have, looking for the perfect outfit, it would take me all of one minute.”
“If you miss them, why didn’t you bring a curling iron and more clothes?”
“Kind of the same reason I don’t have pajamas.” She laughed.
“You wore panties and a sports bra to bed before I gave you some of my T-shirts.” He snorted, remembering the first night they’d slept in her apartment after the Mario incident. He’d raced to her side during one of her nightmares, and when he climbed onto her bed to calm her, he’d found her sleeping in her clothes because she didn’t want him to find her in her usual night attire.
“You packed minimalistic to meet the airline’s weight limit.”
“Exactly. My gear alone weighed thirty-four pounds. I had to make some sacrifices. No pajamas, bare minimum clothes, and no hair dryer or curling iron.”
“You could have paid for an extra bag.”
“Pfft. Fifty dollars? The sacrifices haven’t been that bad.” Her incredulous expression turned to disappointment. “Except in times like these.”
She put her hands up, as if showcasing herself, but surrendering at the same time.
“Mm.” He grunted again.
“Thanks,” she said with a giggle. She finally got a look at him. He wore dark blue jeans—he always wore jeans in the evenings—a contrast after seeing him all day, every day in nothing but swim trunks or board shorts. Always the same fit, his Levis varied from faded with ripped knees, to brand new dark blue or black, but they always looked a little too good on him.
His slate blue button up shirt with collar was a soft, shiny, fabric. He’d rolled the sleeves up, as usual. His shirttails hung out, untucked—he never tucked his shirttails, but it suited him, accentuating the long outline of his form from his broad shoulders to his slim hips. He looked nice, almost dressed up, but still casual enough for the island. Rhees actually stared for a few seconds. He lo
oked so good, she felt underdressed and out of his league.
“What time is it?” She wanted time to find something better to wear, but then she surrendered to the lost cause. She had nothing better since her brown dress had given up the ghost. She frowned.
“We have time.” He walked into her bedroom and lounged on the twin bed. “Rhees? What’s wrong?”
“I need new clothes.” She shook her head. With the exception of a few shops that carried souvenir T-shirts, there were no clothing stores on the island. “I packed for three weeks. I’ve been wearing the same few things for months. Not only is my wardrobe lacking variety, things are wearing out.”
“Did you hear me when I told you how nice you look? I could have easily said you look beautiful—I should have. It’d be more accurate.”
“It’s just . . . no one is going to believe we’re really together.” She sat on the edge of her bed.
“Don’t say that.” He sat up. “If anyone has trouble believing it, it’ll be because they know you’re too good to wind up with me.”
“So, I know tonight’s the night, but you haven’t filled me in on how we’re going to let everyone know we’re . . . supposedly, together. I hope you’re not planning to bushwhack me again, like you did with my roommates.”
“Bushwhack?” He chuckled. “I was thinking more along the lines of just doing what comes naturally.”
“Not instilling a lot of confidence in me—your natural or mine?” She cocked her head to the side and bugged her eyes at him. “Because my natural means we’re staying home and eating quesadillas. Your natural means we have an appointment with Frock?” She shuddered at the idea.
Wet: Part 2 Page 4