“Mom!” Fallon hissed. “Save him!”
“Oh, honey.” Her mom’s voice floated toward me. “He’ll either scare away or endure.”
What a promising future I had!
“Now, this one was a little son of a gun, hid right underneath the bush until I could finally scare him out into the open.” A stuffed raccoon stared back at me. I could only imagine the poor animal was shot in duress if his expression was any hint.
He gave new meaning to deer in headlights, more like coon in corner.
“Wow.” I nodded encouragingly and held out my hands. “He’s big.”
“Biggest coon I’ve ever trapped!” Another numbing back pat.
“You must love hunting.” It was all I had, not that I didn’t appreciate the sport, you know, as long as people ate the meat and were humane, but he took his hobby to an entirely different level. Shelves were filled with pictures of hunting right along with at least ten stuffed animal heads that faced the wall right when you walked in to the expansive living room.
“Yeah.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and whispered out of the corner of his mouth. “The women get fussy over it.”
“I bet. What, with you being in danger all the time.” Laying it on a bit thick there, Zane.
His eyes widened. “Exactly!” He slapped me on the back again, hard enough this time that I felt the need to run my tongue over my teeth to make sure none had been accidently knocked out. He barked out a laugh. “Well that, and one time I made the mistake of shooting a deer after Fallon saw Bambi for the first time.”
I burst out laughing.
He joined in just as the girls walked in.
“Something funny?” Fallon asked, nervously tucking her hair behind her ear.
“Your dad shot Bambi,” I pointed out, then turned to her dad. “How long did she cry?”
“Days,” her mom interrupted and took a step toward us. “Sorry for not shaking your hand, but I was trying to cook.”
I shook her hand. “And were you successful?”
“No.” She rolled her eyes. “I burned the chicken. Again.”
“She burns things if I’m not home.” Fallon shared a smile with her mom before I narrowed my eyes in on her. Home? Didn’t she have a date?
“Too bad about your date tonight then, huh Fallon?”
Her jaw clenched. “Er, yes.”
“Date!” Her mom screamed while her dad ran out of the room and returned with a shotgun. I held up my hands, unsure of how to proceed.
“Where is that son of a bitch!” I’d never actually seen anyone load a shotgun, let alone, pull back the hammer like we were in the Wild West and in need of a buffalo to shoot.
I kept my hands mid-air.
“He’s uh…” Fallon’s eyes widened in my direction, and a plea of silent desperation filled the space between us. “He’s uh.”
I finally lowered my hands and crossed my arms. “Right here.”
Her dad pointed the gun while her mom let out a little gasp and shouted. “Bill!”
“What?” Her dad waved the gun near my face. If it misfired, I was going to have a lot of explaining to do to the studio execs who wanted a new album by the end of the month. “I ain’t gonna injure him!”
“Dad…” Fallon’s smile looked pained. “It’s not really a date, I mean he’s famous, it’s more of one of those things you do for—”
“—Charity.” I cut her off. “We’re raising money.”
“For?” Her dad’s eyes narrowed.
“Seals.” I nodded emphatically. “One of them has a hurt fin and only swims in circles.” I demonstrated with my hand. “At any rate, we’re helping Seaside raise funds to bring in more experienced vets from Sea World.”
Bill looked extremely convinced as he lowered the gun and shrugged. “From Sea World you say?”
“Didn’t a whale recently kill a trainer there?” Fallon’s mom whispered then covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, those poor trainers, to live in such conditions.”
“Palm trees and hot weather are definite hardships,” Fallon muttered.
“So it’s not a real date.” Her dad looked between the two of us, I was tempted to raise my hands again and offer to let him pat me down. As it was, I itched to do a little circle so he could inspect me.
“No,” Fallon said.
“Yes,” I mumbled at the same time.
He frowned. “Which is it? No romance, right? Because Fallon isn’t allowed to date until she’s finished college.”
I laughed, assuming he was joking.
He didn’t.
Her mom even scrunched up her nose and looked away.
“Okay.” I exhaled. “I won’t touch her. I swear. Besides, it wouldn’t just look bad for the charity but the seals, if I tainted her with my—”
“—Parts.” Fallon shouted while her mom covered her face with her hands and then bumped into the chair.
“I think…” Her mom’s face grew redder by the second. “I’ll just order pizza.”
“Good idea.” Fallon tried to escape, but I grabbed her by the shirt and kept her in place while her dad continued to question us like we’d just committed murder.
“You’ll have her back by eleven?”
“You have my word.” I put my hand over my heart.
“Good, then.” He nodded. “Alright.”
I didn’t move.
“Well, get on then.” He flashed a smile then frowned as his eyes fell to the rip in my jeans. “It’s a good thing you two are doing. I’ve been telling Fallon she needs to find a hobby rather than mope around waiting to go to school. Working at that big resort as a maid isn’t enough to keep her interest, not a smart girl like Fallon.”
“Right.” Well, that was interesting. A maid? At the resort? I pushed what I hoped was a congenial smile onto my face. “It was nice meeting you.”
He held out his gun first and then his hand. I think it was purposeful. I matched his grip then ushered Fallon outside, careful not to say anything until we were back in the truck.
“I’ve known you less than forty-eight hours, and you’ve lied twice.”
“I did have a date.” Fallon crossed her arms. “With Mags.”
“Uh-huh.” I started the truck. “And was she aware of this date?”
“Not yet.”
“Lie.”
“Fine!” She threw up her hands. “I lied, but you were making fun of the fact that I d-didn’t have a boyfriend and—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I shook my head. “I wasn’t making fun. I was teasing. There’s a huge difference. Making fun means I’m trying to make you feel bad about yourself, teasing is what you do when you want to embarrass someone. Huge difference.”
“And yet both feel bad!”
“You need more sugar.”
“Huh?”
“It will help with all your nervous energy.”
“I’m not engaging with you.”
“So, a maid huh?”
She let out a pitiful groan. “This is why you don’t kiss strangers.”
“No, you don’t kiss strangers because they may just kiss you back.”
“And then you’re stuck with them.”
“Like syphilis.” I nodded thoughtfully, itching to reach across the consul and grab her thigh, because I was an idiot like that, and for some reason touching her seemed like a really solid plan even though her father had a gun.
“You can cure Syphilis.” She pointed out, shoving her glasses further up her nose. I ached in places no man should ache over something so simple, so ridiculous.
“Or does it just lay dormant in your system?”
“Here.” She pointed to a small restaurant on the corner with a crab sign. “This is fine.”
“Crabby Shack? You’re kidding, right?”
“Hey, they give out bibs!”
“Because that was my first thought this morning, damn, why can’t a man find a decent bib around here?”
“You’re paying,”
she announced, slamming the car door behind her.
Fallon
My hands were shaking.
And I was sweating.
There was nothing attractive about the fact that I was barely able to keep the trembling out of my voice, meaning everything I said came out harsher than I wanted it to.
Did he have any idea how difficult it was to just be around him and try to act normal? To focus so desperately on my speech, on the formation of every single word just so I wouldn’t stutter as much?
“Holy shit.” Zane’s breath hit the back of my neck causing warmth to spread down my arms. “Is that crab real?”
I smirked at the giant, glass fish tank at the front of the restaurant. “You mean Helga?”
He whistled. “You know what they say about names. If you name something, that means you have to keep it.” A flash of emotion came and went, making me more curious than I needed to be.
Because it was Zane Andrews.
He acted like it didn’t matter.
But it did. And anyone with two eyes could see that he was just used to the world giving him things.
“Table for two,” Zane said in that commanding scratchy voice that had my knees knocking together.
It wasn’t a first date, because it wasn’t really a date.
Honestly, I’d never dated because in Seaside, everyone kind of just hung out with everyone else. Everything was done in groups, one-on-one felt awkward.
Except right now, it felt… exciting.
Even if it was for the imaginary seals.
“That was some quick thinking back there.” I grabbed my napkin and folded it across my lap.
Zane shrugged. “Probably because it wasn’t a lie.”
My mouth dropped open. “You’re really saving seals?”
“What’s that?”
“Huh?”
“That expression on your face. You’d think I just told you I prevented a meteor from hitting the planet.”
I shifted in my seat. “I just didn’t expect you to care.”
“Ah,” Zane reached for the sugar packets and flipped every single one of them around, like he was annoyed they were facing him. With barely a pause, he started in on his silverware, tossing it one way then the other.
Finally, I placed my hand on the metal and shook my head.
He almost looked startled when he glanced up. “What?”
“Are you sure you don’t do drugs?”
Hands shaking, he managed to get one of them free and reach into his pocket long enough to pull out two smaller marshmallows, popping them in his mouth.
I shook my head. “Let me guess, travel size?”
He smirked. “You’re catching on.”
“A terrifying thought.”
“Or the best one you’ve ever had?”
“Nope.”
“Worth a shot.” He swallowed, and the motion drew my eyes to his perfectly sculpted neck and shoulders. Why was he so pretty? His nose piercing caught the light and flashed like a camera in my direction.
A good reminder.
His life was flashy.
Mine was not.
“I’m not dropping this whole scenario about being the best you’ve ever had, so you may as well tell me the story… besides, by your body language, I’m assuming I’m not going to get many more dates.”
I snorted. “That’s highly doubtful.”
“Take off your glasses.”
“Huh?”
He reached for my glasses and slid them off, setting them on the table with more care than I thought him capable of. “There, that’s better. I want to see your eyes.”
“But I can’t even focus on you!”
“Your eyes are huge.”
Shame washed over me as I reached for my glasses but his hand covered mine, holding it against the table.
“It was a compliment.”
“Oh.” My shoulders refused to perk back up as I slumped farther in my seat, my eyes focusing on the white table cloth, which was the only thing I could make out, and even that was so blurry the table kind of looked like a giant marshmallow.
“So, you’re a maid for the resort in town?”
I nodded, relaxing as I leaned back in my chair. “It was a summer job. They usually let me go during the down season, but since I wanted to save some extra money, they let me stay on until I go to college.”
“How much do you work?”
“Ten hours a week. It isn’t a lot, but it’s hard to get jobs here.”
“I want to hear about the worst room you’ve ever cleaned.” He laughed, I couldn’t tell if he was still smiling because I literally couldn’t see his face, just a blur where it should be.
Oddly enough, that set me more at ease.
“Well…” I thought about it, and a couple came to mind. “There was one room that had used condoms all over the floor, and when I say all over I mean, they were everywhere, like an orgy had taken place.”
“Were a lot of people staying in the room?”
“No.” I laughed at the memory, “It was an elderly couple. They’d been married over forty years and were celebrating their anniversary.”
“Go Gramps.” Zane nodded his appreciation then crossed his muscular arms.
“Yes.” I cringed at the mental picture. “It was a rough two nights, let’s just put it that way.”
“I don’t use condoms,” Zane announced in a low voice.
I rolled my eyes. “Why does that not surprise me? The great Zane Andrews doesn’t practice safe sex, some Saint you are.”
“There you go making assumptions about my character again.”
“What other assumption is there to make? You just said you don’t use condoms.”
He was quiet and then whispered, “I don’t.”
“So you have unprotected sex.”
“I didn’t say that either.”
“But—”
“Yes, we’ll have two Helgas.” Zane said in an authoritative voice, just as I registered a presence hovering near my left elbow. “And a milk for my little sister.”
I kicked him under the table.
He bit out a curse. With a whisper of fabric, the waitress left, or must have left, since I still couldn’t see much. At least I no longer felt someone standing there.
“Did she hear the entire conversation?” I asked quietly, somewhat mortified.
“Only the good parts.” Zane laughed. “So, what did you do with the used condoms?”
“I can’t believe we’re talking about this.”
“Why wouldn’t we talk about this?”
“It’s a date.”
“People don’t talk about used condoms on dates? Damn it, I’ve been doing it all wrong!”
I fought the losing battle with a smile.
“You should do that more often,” he said softly. “Smile. You know, the world isn’t out to get you.”
“Just you.”
“What was that?”
“Just you.” I said, this time, louder. “I don’t want to get comfortable with you.”
“Because I’m Satan?”
I laughed and tried reaching for my water.
“A little to the left.”
“Thanks.” My fingers fumbled with the glass as I lifted it to my lips, nearly spilling ice all the way down my shirt.
“So close.” Zane whistled. “I’ve always wanted to go on a date where the girl just magically splashes herself with a glass of water in hopes to lure me into her bed.”
“Not luring,” I corrected. “Just blind, can I have my glasses back yet?”
“Nope.” His laugh was deep, wicked.
Why? Why was this happening to me? Why was he happening to me? I released a sigh.
“Why can’t you get comfortable with me? What’s so bad about making new friends?”
I thought about it. The answer was as complicated as it was simple. After a moment, I whispered, “Friends leave.”
“Aw, are you saying you’re going to mis
s me, four eyes?”
I groaned. “If I say yes, will you save me the heartache and just break things off now? Let me down easy and move on to your next victim?”
“So I’m a predator now?” The movement of him leaning his arms against the table had me sighing in part agony part bliss. I was too blind to see those muscles stretching, but I knew they were all the same.
“Fine, you’re not a predator.”
“Thank you…” His soft laughter sounded oddly victorious. “Want a sucker?”
“Luring me with candy Mr. Non-predator?”
“Nah, just testing your will power.”
“I’ve got a lot of it.”
“Me too,” he whispered, and I still couldn’t make out his face, dang it! But he seemed… sad about it? Which made absolutely no sense. None at all.
Food was set in front of me, and the heavenly aroma of crab wafted into the air.
I reached for the mallet, but Zane grabbed it and shook his head. “I think you should let the man handle the weapons.”
With a frustrated groan, I slumped forward. “You’re really controlling and condescending.”
“Funny, Jaymeson says that all the time.” A loud crack and then his fingers were literally touching my lips. “Open up.”
I did, mainly because I was so shocked he was feeding me that it was either open my mouth or get crab on my chin.
Of course Zane wouldn’t do things the easy way, he didn’t just feed me then pat me on the head, his fingers lingered on my lower lip before he brushed them with his thumb and pulled back, whispering, “How’s Helga?”
“Helga’s… good.” Voice raspy, I reached for my water again. The back of my hand met the glass, cool and slick with condensation. As I pulled back to try again, the glass tumbled sideways, ice clinking against the sides as it fell over.
Zane let out a curse and stood.
Wincing, I closed my eyes. “I just dumped water on your lap didn’t I?”
“My fault.” Zane laughed, wiping his front with a napkin. “Helga had me all overheated anyway.”
“Crabs get you hot?”
My breath backed up in my lungs. Too far? Did I just really say that?
“It was ten percent crab, ninety percent the little sound you make when eating.”
“I do not!” My cheeks heated.
Take Me To The Beach Page 172