Page 78 of Better When Shared (Kristin Lance Anthologies #2)

Makai

That evening, I lounged in one of the vintage Adirondack chairs on the porch of my ranch house, nursing a beer. Skylar sat across from me in the comfy swing we’d found at a garage sale last summer, her feet propped on the railing.

Everything felt normal—the familiar weight of the bottle in my hand, the distant call of an osprey hunting over the water, the gentle evening breeze carrying the scent of cedar and salt. Everything except the ache of my muscles and the restless feeling in my chest that wouldn’t go away no matter how hard I tried to drown it.

“So, while you were busy playing castaway with your sexy British tourists, we had our biggest day of the season.”

Skylar tipped her bottle toward me.

“Booked out all the mountain bikes, both the kayak tours, and Tony took a family of five out for surf lessons.”

“That’s awesome.”

I forced enthusiasm into my voice.

“Tony’s getting pretty good with the beginners, huh?”

“Yeah, he’s finally stopped telling kids they paddle like drowning puppies.”

She snorted, taking another swig of beer.

Skylar launched into a detailed account of everything I’d missed during my two-day sailing trip. The bookings, the equipment maintenance, the calls from potential corporate clients looking for team-building packages. I nodded at the right moments, made appropriate sounds of interest, but my mind kept drifting back to the boat.

“Earth to Makai.”

Skylar waved her hand in front of my face.

“Did you hear anything I just said?”

“What? Yeah, of course.”

I straightened in my chair.

“The, uh, corporate bookings sound promising.”

“I was talking about the busted inflatable paddleboard.”

She narrowed her eyes, studying me over the rim of her beer bottle.

“You’re thinking about them again, aren’t you? The fancy British couple.”

Heat crawled up my neck.

“Just thinking about work stuff. The boat engine needs fixing.”

“Bullshit.”

Skylar kicked my shin with her bare foot.

“You’ve got that same dopey, distracted look you always get when you’ve found a new fling.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to play it cool.

“I’m not dopey.”

She leaned forward, elbows on her knees.

“Come on, spill it. What happened out there? Engine really die, or did you sabotage it to get more time with your hot clients?”

“The engine died. Jesus, I’m not a psycho.”

I picked at the label on my bottle, avoiding her eyes.

“We got lucky with the wind this morning.”

“Got lucky, huh?”

Skylar smirked.

“Is that a double entendre? You’ve been acting weird all afternoon. Distracted. Got that stupid smile on your face when you think no one’s looking.”

I tried to frown, to erase whatever expression had given me away. This wasn’t like me. I didn’t get hung up on tourists. That was my number one rule. Casual fun with visitors was fine, great even, but I never allowed anything that could hurt when they inevitably left. I’d learned that lesson the hard way.

“It’s nothing serious,”

I insisted, as much to myself as to Skylar.

“They’re hot, they’re into me, we had some fun. End of story.”

“Mmhmm.”

Skylar wasn’t buying it.

“That’s why you’ve checked your phone like eighteen times since we’ve been sitting here?”

I jammed my phone deeper into my pocket.

“Just habit.”

“Right.”

She tilted her head, her expression softening.

“Look, I’m not judging. They seem nice. Just... you always pick the unavailable ones. Either you’re afraid of connecting with someone who’s going to stick around, or you have a self-destructive streak a mile wide.”

“Probably both.”

I flashed her my most convincing grin.

“But not to worry, I’m always careful. Condoms and emotional distance—my two favorite protections.”

Never mind that I hadn’t used condoms with them.

She kicked me again, harder this time.

“You’re such an asshole.”

“That’s why you love me.”

“If you say so.”

Skylar drained the last of her beer and stood, stretching her arms overhead.

“I’m calling it a night. Gonna get online with my gaming buddies.”

“Speaking of your gaming buddies, when are they going to come out for a visit?”

“Never. Gamer boys are like vampires — they live in basements and shrink at the sight of sunshine. They fear islands. Oh, and they’re never as hot as their avatars.”

“Won’t know until you find out,”

I said, winking.

“Fuck off. I’m not a slut like you. Except when playing Baldur’s Gate.”

“I don’t even know what that is.”

“It’s a game, doofus. Oh, and Nainai’s dropping by tomorrow with more dumplings. She says you looked ‘depleted’ when she saw you at the marina.”

I groaned.

“I don’t think I want to know what that means.”

“Probably something about your qi. But free food is free food, and Nainai’s is the most delicious.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

Smirking at me, she collected our empty bottles.

“Try not to stay up all night pining, okay? We’ve got actual work to do tomorrow.”

“I don’t pine,”

I called after her as she headed down the porch steps.

“I brood. It’s different. Sexier.”

Skylar was still laughing at the thought of me calling myself sexy as she crossed the yard toward her cabin nestled in the trees on the other side of the barn. I watched until she disappeared into the low light of dusk, then sighed, slumping lower in my chair.

She was right, of course. I was in trouble.

I pushed myself up and headed inside, flicking on lights as I went.

What I was feeling didn’t make any sense. I barely knew Hamish and Imogen. So why couldn’t I stop thinking about the look in Hamish’s eyes when he’d taken me in his mouth? Or the way Imogen had whispered both our names when she came?

I rubbed a hand over my face. I’d had plenty of great sex in my life. Plenty of intense connections that burned hot and fast. This wouldn’t be any different. They were tourists. We’d have our fun. They’d leave. Life would go on.

Determined to wash away any remnants of their scent on my skin, I headed for the shower. Maybe after a good bath and a good night’s sleep, I’d remember how this game was supposed to be played.

I stepped into the stall with a soft moan, turning the water hotter as it poured over my aching muscles, and closing my eyes, resting my forehead against the tile. My mind wouldn’t stop replaying everything that had happened over the past forty-eight hours.

I had Hamish’s phone number, and knew exactly where Imogen worked, so it wasn’t like I couldn’t find them if I wanted. But would they want me to chase them like that? Or would they be angry? My mind spun with possibilities, and I didn’t have an answer by the time I’d finished my shower.

When I heard the soft knock at my front door, I was still naked and wet. I cursed, assuming Skylar had forgotten something, and threw on a pair of sweatpants and a clean T-shirt. I padded barefoot through the living room, ready to tell her to stop bugging me. But when I swung the door open, the words died in my throat. Hamish and Imogen stood on my porch, looking nervous but determined.

“Surprise,”

Imogen said, holding up a bottle of red wine with a shy smile. Her gorgeous hair hung loose around her shoulders, casual in a way I hadn’t seen before.

Hamish stood beside her, clutching two bags of food.

“We thought you might be hungry. After... everything.”

“Fuck, come in,”

I stepped back, ushering them inside.

“Before my business partner spots you and I never hear the end of it.”

Hamish looked over his shoulder.

“She can’t see the house, can she?”

“Nah, her cabin is on the other side of the barn. And she’s gaming with her two online boyfriends. She’s well and truly distracted.”

Hamish smirked.

“Two online boyfriends? Do they know about each other?”

“No idea. I think she likes the love triangle drama, if we’re being honest.”

Hamish chuckled as he passed me, his shoulder brushing mine.

“I take it you haven’t told her about our adventure?”

“Not exactly.”

I closed the door behind them, hyperaware of how domestic this felt—the three of us in my private space, bearing food and wine like any normal... whatever we were.

“I just got the third degree about my ‘tourist crush.’ If she saw you here, I’d never live it down.”

Imogen wandered into my living room, her eyes taking in the exposed beam ceiling, the stone fireplace I’d rebuilt last winter.

“This is lovely,”

she said, turning to face me.

“Did you renovate it yourself? It’s much nicer than our cottage at the Cannery.”

“Thanks.”

I ran a hand through my damp hair, self-conscious.

“It was a dump when I bought it. It leaked every time it rained, which is basically always around here. It’s still a work in progress, but getting there.”

“I love it.”

Hamish set the bags on my kitchen counter.

“We wanted to thank you properly for keeping us alive during our maritime emergency.”

His British accent made even casual statements sound formal.

“I should be the one apologizing to you for stranding you!”

“Well, in retrospect, getting stranded was the best thing that could have happened, so we’re not sorry. Are you?”

Imogen asked as she pulled containers from the bag, revealing Chinese food from the good place in Friday Harbor.

“Not even a little bit.”

I met her eyes, the air between us charged with memories of what we’d done together.

We settled on my couch with plates of food, the initial awkwardness dissolving as we ate. Imogen asked about the house, and I told them about buying the property after burning out in Hawaii, how Skylar and I had spent months rebuilding, learning as we went.

“You should have seen it before,”

I said, gesturing around with my chopsticks.

“The previous owner was some hermit artist who apparently didn’t believe in fixing things. We found raccoons living in the attic.”

“It feels like you,”

Imogen said.

“Warm. Unpretentious.”

I snorted.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It was meant as one.”

Her eyes met mine, soft and sincere in a way that made my chest tighten.

I leaned back, eying them both.

“So, are you just here for food, or do you two still want to continue... whatever this is?”

Hamish set his plate down.

“We’d like to continue, if you do. We’ve discussed it and we both want to see where this goes.”

“How so?”

I asked, hesitantly.

Imogen fiddled with her chopsticks.

“The wedding venue booked me for the entire summer season, so I’m here until the end of August. About ten weeks. We’d like to spend that time with you.”

She looked up, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Assuming some surf instructor named Makai doesn’t keep parking his eyesore of a trailer places that drive me over the edge.”

I laughed, relief and terror churning in my gut. Having them for two more months meant so much more fun with them… but at the same time, there was no question that it would increase my risk of growing attached.

“And you?”

I turned to Hamish.

“I’ve decided to stay.”

He reached for Imogen’s hand, linking their fingers together.

“My office allows remote work, and I want to be with Imogen.”

He paused, then added with a slight flush.

“And to get to know you better.”

“What would the ground rules be?” I asked.

Hamish blushed.

“We want to enter this with an open mind. So much was revealed this weekend, and we both want to explore as much as we can. We’re okay if that happens as pairs or as a trio, while keeping lines of communication open.”

My heart hammered against my ribs. This was moving way too fast, way too serious for people who’d known each other barely a week. I should be running for the hills, keeping things casual, protecting myself.

Instead, I heard myself say.

“I guess we might as well make the most of the time we have.”

Imogen’s smile brightened.

“That’s what we were hoping you’d say.”

“We know it’s not conventional,”

Hamish added.

“But what happened on the yacht was incredible. Both the pleasure and the… friendship. I’d love to explore that, deepen that.”

I nodded, trying to keep my tone light despite the hope blooming in my chest.

“I’m all about the unconventional. And exploration is kind of my specialty. No strings?”

Hamish swallowed, his eyes darting to the side, as if he didn’t like that idea. But he nodded.

“Anyway, I have a big wedding on Saturday, so I’m going to be swamped. Are you booked, Makai? Maybe you and Hamish could surf?”

“My schedule is clear. Skylar gave me few days off since I had to work five days straight with some demanding British guy.”

Hamish laughed, eyes sparkling, then leaned in and kissed me, hard, rough, and possessive.

“Well, if you could handle a little more of me, I’d be happy to surf with you while my wife works. And maybe afterwards, we could meet her back here?”

“Definitely,”

Imogen said.

“I have to hear all about Hamish’s progression.”

“Anyway, we decided to give you a night to rest and think on it,”

Hamish said, his eyes dropping to my crotch.

“We want you to enter this with a clear head.”

Imogen smiled.

“We’re both sore, and I’m sure you need a good night’s sleep. We’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed me, sweet and gentle.

I wanted to invite them to stay but I stopped myself. The space would help me keep from getting attached.

Wouldn’t it?

As they gathered their things to leave, promising to take the evidence of their visit with them to avoid Skylar’s interrogation, I felt that same restless energy from earlier, but transformed now into something lighter, almost buoyant.

And honestly? That was scary as hell. I cleared my throat, and they both turned to face me, eyebrows up.

“I mean, if we’re all just getting some sleep, I have a really nice bed.”

A slow, vibrant smile spread across Imogen’s face.

“Fascinating. Why don’t you show us this bed?”

What the fuck was I doing? And why couldn’t I stop myself from leading them back to my bedroom?