On the Rocks (A Turtle Island Novel)

by Kim Law

  “Or it might kill me.”

  “Please. You could totally keep up with that.”

  Before Kayla could reply, the door across the room opened, admitting several more men into the bar. Both women stopped talking as two additional early-twenties hotties walked in. Gregg and Ian. The two men seemed to do everything as a pair, and Ginger couldn’t help but heat up at the thought of doing them as a pair.

  Good grief.

  She gulped her beer. Southern-boy charm or not, she had no doubt either of them would sleep with her, then be in someone else’s bed before morning. There would be no staying over, no breakfast, no nothing.

  Except probably a rousing good time.

  More heat rushed through her. She really did need sex. In a very bad way. But she also needed to feel like she wasn’t simply a place to plant a dick.

  The door opened again, and Carter walked in.

  “Now that’s a man,” Kayla murmured. She still had the straw of her drink between her teeth, but her eyes were glued to Carter. The wind had done a number on his hair, and he’d seemingly forgotten to shave the last couple of days.

  Ginger had already noticed that nonshaving feature earlier. As they’d done yesterday, they’d watched the sunrise together this morning. Only, this time, when she’d walked out her back door, he’d been waiting for her. There hadn’t been a lot of talk, just easy comfort. They’d walked over together, talked a bit about her house as well as the renovations going on next door, then had silently taken in the sunrise.

  They’d discussed the coming day on their way back, and he’d never once brought out one of his nasty cigarettes. Before they’d parted, he’d asked if she had a big date lined up for tonight. She’d asked the same of him. Neither had a date, and neither had bigger plans than dinner and a drink or two.

  “That’s Julie Ridley’s brother,” Ginger shared.

  Kayla shot her a questioning glance, and Ginger added, “Julie’s the new manager of the art gallery.”

  “Oh. The pregnant girl. Your mother mentioned her brother was in town.”

  They both kept an eye on Carter as he moved to the bar, and Ginger noticed that they weren’t the only ones watching. Carter was a handsome man. At six feet tall, with those sexy eyes and well-fitting jeans, he was easy to look at. It occurred to her that he’d also filled out since he’d shown up on the island. Must be all that cooking he’d been doing for his sister. Julie had put on weight, as well. She didn’t look quite as scary-thin anymore.

  Gregg and Ian stopped by their table then, blocking Ginger’s view of Carter, and Gregg edged in close and shot her a wink. “Buy you a beer, Miss Ginger?”

  Dang, but his voice did make her heart skip a beat. Even when used with the pet name.

  She took in the beanie covering his head. It left a few dark curls poking out over his forehead. Very cute. Very hot. Then held up her glass. “Seems I’m already taken care of.”

  “Yeah?” He took the glass from her and downed a long drink, leaving a tiny spot of foam on the corner of his mouth. Ginger stared at it. His tongue darted out to swipe the foam away, and his eyebrows did a sexy little wiggle. “Maybe there’s something else I could get you.”

  Kayla choked on her drink, and Ginger giggled. Then she blushed. Gregg was such a flirt.

  And a total man-whore.

  “Gregg, Ian,” Ginger began. She swallowed, hoping she didn’t sound as schoolgirlish as she felt. She motioned to the other side of the table. “Meet Kayla.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Kayla said politely.

  Both men turned their attentions to the other woman, and before Ginger knew what happened, the two of them had dragged over chairs and joined them at the small, two-person table. Kayla’s chest rose and fell too fast, and she’d picked up even more speed sucking down her drink. She motioned to their server for another.

  “So what do you two have planned for tonight?” Ian asked. “We found this great spot—”

  “Time’s up, gentlemen.”

  All four of them looked up at the drily spoken words to find Carter loitering behind Gregg—whose arm was now stretched along the back of Ginger’s chair. Carter’s demeanor wasn’t scary—exactly—but it did make a statement. It pulled Ian quickly to his feet. Gregg stayed where he was.

  “I’m sorry.” Ian gulped. “Was this your seat, Mr. Ridley?” Clearly the guy was cowed by the boss man.

  Gregg still didn’t move, and Carter’s attention remained on him.

  Ginger leaned in. “We’re good, Gregg. Just having a few drinks, then we’re going home.” When he looked back at her, she added, “Alone.”

  She saw the disappointment in his eyes, and she felt a little of it herself. She wished she were that type. She wished she were ten years younger.

  Then she would take him up on whatever he wanted to suggest.

  “You sure?” Gregg spoke the words softly enough that she should have been the only one to hear them. Except, Carter leaned in, mimicking Ginger’s previous action.

  “The lady said no,” he stated.

  “Back off,” Gregg muttered. But he stood. And turned to Ginger once again. He shot her that Southern-boy smile she’d been on the receiving end of several times during the week. “Maybe next time,” he suggested.

  Her answer was a goofy smile.

  Gregg and Ian moved on, stopping and delivering their same pitch to another table full of girls, and Carter scowled down at her. “Really?” he said. His tone edged on boredom.

  She shrugged nonchalantly. “He seems fun.”

  “You’re too old for him.”

  “See?” Kayla piped in. She looked from Ginger to Carter. “I just told her the same thing. I’m too old for—”

  Her words cut off and she did a quick peek around, and Ginger whispered, “O-wen.”

  Carter lowered to the chair vacated by Gregg. His presence seemed to take up a lot more space around the table than when the other two men had sat there, and Ginger scooted her chair over to make room. Then she introduced Carter and began catching him up on the conversation.

  “There’s this guy who works here . . .” she began.

  “Stop it,” Kayla demanded, her eyes pleading. “I’m not interested in him.”

  “No?”

  Owen was in the area again, and Ginger smiled knowingly when he once again made a detour that led him by their table. He tipped his head at Kayla as he passed, but said nothing.

  Kayla sat, stone-faced.

  “That guy?” Carter asked. He reached for a chip from the basket in the middle of their table and watched Owen until he disappeared in the back. “What’s wrong with him?”

  “He’s no older than the two who were just over here, that’s what.” Kayla’s tone said she was more than a little aghast. “And you just told Ginger that Gregg was too young for her.”

  “Gregg is too young for her.”

  Ginger snorted. “I could hold my own.”

  Hard eyes turned to her. “He is not your type.”

  “Seriously, Carter,” she admonished, “give it a break. I’m a grown woman. I know what kind of guy I want to hook up with and what kind I don’t.”

  “So you’re just looking for a hookup now?”

  Ginger noticed that Kayla had gone quiet as she watched the two of them talk.

  “Find another hobby, will you?” Irritation had her voice lowering. “What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you planned to stay in and cook dinner for Julie.” That’s what he’d told her earlier. She’d taken that to mean that he’d also laze around afterward, and empty his fridge of whatever beer remained inside.

  She hadn’t meant to be nosy, but when she’d taken her recycling bin to the road that morning, she’d seen the pile of bottles in Carter’s bin. The sheer number had shocked her. Had he really drank that much in the last week?

  But there was no other explanation that she could see. Julie certainly wasn’t drinking them.

  He held up the ticket he’d been given at the
bar. “Stove got taken out of the house today, so I’m playing delivery boy.”

  Across the table, Kayla propped a hand on her fist and gazed adoringly at Carter. The tequila was clearly working.

  “Any more thoughts on the kitchen?” Carter asked Ginger.

  She stared at him, having no clue what he meant.

  “The samples I brought you.”

  Oh, her kitchen. She shook her head. “I can’t decide.” She tugged her purse from the back of her chair, and retrieved several pieces of granite and stone. She’d carried them around for the last two days, taking them out several times a day, but so far she remained undecided. “I’m leaning toward something that’s more beige.”

  Carter remained silent. She knew this was because he didn’t think she needed to go with anything in the brown tones. He thought cooler colors would go better with a beach house.

  “You should visit the showroom and see each in person,” he suggested.

  There was a large store on the mainland that showcased different setups. She’d visited it a number of times over the summer.

  “Maybe.” She hummed under her breath as she studied the squares, moving them around as if doing so would make the decision for her. “When do I have to make up my mind?”

  “Soon, Red.”

  She sighed. “I know, soon. But . . .” She shot him a pleading look. “Can I have a week?”

  He narrowed his eyes on her as if certain she were trying to get out of something, but she wasn’t. She just didn’t know what she wanted.

  “One week,” he finally answered. “Then I’m making the decision for you.”

  “No, you’re not.” She gave him the same squinty-eyed stare he’d just given her. “I’ll make my own decisions. I don’t need some man to do it for me.”

  He disarmed her with a wink. “Thatta girl. As long as you make the decisions.”

  The server showed up with Kayla’s third drink then, along with another beer. When Ginger reached for it, Carter stared down his nose at her. “Do I need to come back later and pick you two up?”

  As if she were the one with the potential problem here.

  She once again returned his look, this time going for haughty, but without being able to look down her nose at him, she couldn’t pull it off. She took a gulp of beer instead, finishing with as much of a judgmental sneer as she could pull off. “I figured you’d be having plenty of your own tonight.”

  “I can skip it.” He looked toward Gregg, who was flirting with yet another tableful of women. “Wouldn’t want you drinking too much and doing anything . . . stupid.”

  She looked at Gregg, too. Then purposefully licked her lips.

  Kayla made a little snorting noise, but neither of them paid attention to her. Instead, Ginger gave Carter her best smile, stupidly hoping it would entice him to do the same. She hadn’t seen him do anything but scowl since yesterday morning, and she found that she wanted to see his lips curve again. He was beautiful when he smiled.

  “Come on, Carter,” she cooed when his mouth remained rigid. She lightly poked at his chest, finding it firmer than she’d expected. So she poked it again. Another beer and she’d rub her palms all over that bad boy. “Smile a little.” Her voice had lowered, and she bit her lip, hoping she hadn’t sounded as sex-crazed as she knew she was.

  But still . . . she got nothing from Carter.

  Only the same green-brown gaze glowering at her that she’d seen for the last week. She frowned.

  “Fine,” she scoffed, “but your face might freeze like that.”

  “How are you getting home?” He ignored her taunting. The man was no fun at all.

  “I do know how to call a cab if I need to.”

  A plastic bag filled with food showed up at the table and Carter stood. “See that you do.” He shot once last look at Gregg. “No riding home with strangers.”

  “But Gregg isn’t a stranger.”

  At Carter’s sharp look she wrinkled her nose at him playfully.

  “I’m serious, Ginger Root. Don’t ask for trouble.”

  “Okay,” she grumbled. “My god, you’re tiresome. I won’t, I swear. I won’t leave with Gregg. You’re right, okay? He’s fun to look at, but that’s all. I’m not interested in what he’s offering.”

  Carter’s jaw went tight. “So he’s offered?”

  Her answer was a lift of her brows, and he shook his head with disgust.

  “I feel like I have to keep an eye on you, same as I do my sister.”

  “Only, I’m not your sister, am I? I’m a woman.” She looked him straight in the eyes. “With womanly needs.”

  He stared at her for a moment, thoughts flickering behind his eyes, and his lips slightly parted. But she’d had too much to drink to have a clue what he might be thinking. Finally, he said nothing to her. He turned to Kayla and nodded. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Same here,” Kayla eked out.

  Then he was gone, winding through the crowd. He stopped by Gregg’s side, said something, and moved on. Gregg tossed a glance her way before returning his attention to the blonde at his elbow, and Ginger turned back to Kayla.

  “Ginger Root?” Kayla asked.

  “Old nickname.”

  “I think it’s cute.” She glanced in the direction Carter had gone. “And I think he’s cute. What a sweetheart.”

  “A sweetheart?” Ginger gaped. “Carter? Honey, you’ve had too much to drink.”

  “He’s here getting takeout for his pregnant sister,” Kayla explained. “And clearly he’s watching out for you. He offered to come back and drive us home.” She suddenly squinted as if to clear her vision, and stared at the empty glasses scattered over their table. “Do we need him to take us home? I’ve had a lot to drink.”

  “I can get us home,” Ginger assured the other woman. She was on her third beer, but it would last her the rest of the night. “But we’re not going anywhere yet. We came to have fun, right?”

  “I came for the margaritas.”

  Ginger chuckled. “That, too. The night is young, though. I say we flirt a little and see where it gets us.”

  This time Kayla was the one to laugh. “You just flirted all over that man.”

  The words caught her off guard. “No, I didn’t.”

  “Uh . . . yes, you did.”

  Ginger hadn’t intended to flirt, but she could see where Kayla might have thought that’s what she’d been attempting. She had rubbed his chest. But had Carter even noticed? If not, it was a little insulting.

  “He’s just a friend,” she pointed out. “We grew up next door to each other.”

  “And that’s all? What about Ginger Root?”

  Ginger held in a groan. “That’s all.” What good would it do if it wasn’t?

  But that same stinking flutter thing that had happened after Andie suggested she jump Carter’s bones was back. Fluttering again. She couldn’t jump his bones, though. She wouldn’t risk that kind of embarrassment.

  But she could fantasize a little. Because just possibly, she had a little of that same high-school crush going again. Kayla had been right. He could be sweet—when he wasn’t smoking or drinking too much. Or just generally being cranky.

  And he certainly was nice to look at.

  She swung her gaze to the door and saw that he hadn’t stepped outside yet. Instead, he stood there, eyes on her. He gave a solemn nod and disappeared into the night. When she turned back to the table, Kayla wore a knowing look.

  “What?” Ginger asked defensively.

  “Only a friend.”

  “He is.”

  “Right.” Kayla plucked a chip from the basket. “A friend you wouldn’t mind taking care of—how did you put it?—your ‘womanly needs’?”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Womanly needs.

  Ginger still couldn’t believe she’d said that to Carter. She’d been attempting to aggravate him about Gregg, but had she come off as wanton instead? Desperate?

  Kayla had kept on about it well b
eyond the third margarita and into the fourth, but then they’d captured the attention of a couple of other guys. This time, both men being nearer their age. And finally Kayla had shut up and done a little flirting of her own. The result being that they’d both walked away last night with upcoming dates.

  “I found the absolute best dress for you this morning.” Ginger’s mother interrupted the mental replaying of the night before as she and Clint came through the back door. They joined Ginger on the deck, her mom carrying a tray of vegetables and dip, and Clint moving to fire up the grill. They wore matching navy polos and khaki shorts.

  “Please tell me it has no ruffles.” Ginger reached for a carrot stick.

  “Only a few around the neck area.” Her mom fluttered her hands around her shoulders. “And the skirt is a little full, but they aren’t ruffles.”

  Ginger stared at her mother. Did the woman not know her at all?

  “The best thing about it is the color,” her mom added. “You’ll love it. The green will highlight your complexion nicely.”

  “And your eyes,” Clint added in.

  Ginger lifted a brow. “She talked you into shopping with her?”

  He ducked his head as if realizing what he’d given away. He was cute when embarrassed. “She convinced me it would be fun.”

  “And was it?” Ginger chomped into the carrot while Clint studied his shoes.

  “Clinton Connelly,” her mother exclaimed at his obvious resistance. She joined him at the grill, one arm sliding around his waist, and leaned into him. “Don’t you dare say you didn’t have fun with me today. I know for a fact that you did.”

  Clint lifted steady brown eyes to Ginger and recited “I had fun with her today” as if having been coached to say the words, but behind the monotone, Ginger spotted true happiness.

  Her mom huffed at the comment and crossed to settle into the chair beside Ginger. “Don’t believe him,” she said. “He picked out more for the wedding than I did.”

  Ginger gawked at Clint. “I’ve been shopping with her before. Her credit card company and she are on a first-name basis. If what she says is true, then that’s quite a statement.”

  The man came close to blushing, and both women laughed.