Page 31 of Fire Island (Fire Island #2)

Thirty

CALLUM

T ry eating dinner with your sister staring at you half the night while you try to fend off a boner from the woman beside you whose slightest touch sets you craving.

The craving is so damn bad, I could toss the food from the table, haul her onto it, and devour her right here and now. Audience be damned.

Instead, I inhale my favorite stew like a man starved.

Hilarious, because I am.

Just not for my little sister’s stew.

I don’t know whether it’s from fooling around on the couch or Em’s offhand comment, but I’m strung out tonight. Finally, when everyone’s finished, I stand and pluck up the bowls and head for the kitchen like it’s a goddamn race.

A moment later, Em files in behind me with the cutlery and a shit-eating grin on his face. “Someone has plans tonight.”

“Fuck off, bud.”

He chuckles, dropping the cutlery into the sink, and starts washing up. “It’s all good, Cal. I haven’t seen Iris this happy since the day we found her...”

Evie. Since the day Em plucked Evie from the water, after those fuckers...

That sucks the joy right out of the fucking room.

“Shit. Sorry, man,” Em says, eyes tight as he pulls a bowl from the sink and sets it to rest on the drying rack. I tug the tea towel from the oven door handle and grab the bowl, wiping it down with more force than necessary.

“You going to take that letter to the station?” Emmett says quietly.

“Yeah, just not with Evie. She’s finally got some stability. She’s carried this burden long enough. I’ll handle it.”

Em gives me a proud look. “She’s the best thing that’s happened to us three in a long time.”

“Three?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Yeah. Irry needed someone as much as you did. Sister-type, you know. And...” His face turns serious, like he wants to say something but is having a hard time putting it together. “Seeing a smile on your grumpy-ass face—I’m happy for you, Cal. It’s been far too fucking long.”

I clear my throat, the one that’s too thick to respond.

“Don’t fuck it up, you hear?” Em grins at me now.

Like I ever would.

I’ve been that guy, and I lived through the consequences. Never again.

“Need a hand?” Evie says from the door. I turn back to find her holding a wine glass. Iris must have opened the red already.

“Nah, we’re good. You girls go enjoy the game.” Em winks at her.

She shakes her head and sips her wine. “Not likely, Emmett. How about a movie?”

“What did you have in mind?” I ask.

She contemplates this for a moment, then says, “ One Small Hitch . Or maybe Happiness for Beginners ?”

They sound like romance movies. I guess we did watch an action flick last time. Em tilts his head, then opens his mouth like he’s about to object.

“Either sound okay,” I say. “What does Iris want?”

Em clears his throat, and a second later, a bowl crashes into the drying rack. Then another. What’s got his goat?

“That’s a good question. Maybe I’ll ask her.” Evie gives me a coy smile I don’t understand as she walks from the kitchen, heading for the living room.

We finish up the washing and drying and make our way to the living room to find the girls still scrolling through the romance options. I don’t mind watching romance, but something with a little subplot would be great. If I fall asleep in the first half, I’ll never live it down.

I drop onto the couch on one end by Evie.

Em sinks down on the other next to Iris.

These seem to be our regular spots now. It’s cozy.

The fact that Iris uses Em as a big-brother pillow cracks me up.

Poor guy, last time he had to stay wedged into the end of the sofa after she fell asleep at the movie’s midpoint.

He doesn’t seem to mind, though.

Iris would have his balls if he made a move. That sister of mine knows her mind, and if she had a mind for Emmett, he would have been out of the friend zone years ago.

I shake my head at the ridiculous thought.

Like hell.

That’s how friendships are ruined. Families torn apart.

Ain’t going to happen.

The movie is decided on and the girls snuggle in. Evie huddles closer, her head dropping to my arm as the credits roll. I run a hand down the arm of the sofa and rest my head back when I see it’s one I’ve watched before.

Happiness for Beginners .

Solid film. Not sure how much I’m going to get through...

Like clockwork, my eyes start to heavy around twenty minutes in. Evie glances up when my body relaxes around hers. She runs her fingertips through my beard, sending her hand past my temple and into my hair.

Fuck.

Now I’m awake.

I drop my head, my lips almost brushing her ear. “Baby girl, you keep doing that, we’re going to need to go upstairs.”

Her fingers run through my hair again, the tips massaging my scalp. I almost don’t remember to tamp down the groan rattling its way up. She’s playing with me.

Eyes glued to the screen, she continues to explore my hair, neck, and beard.

Her touch is addictive.

Huddled into me, she is all I can smell.

My cock stretches my jeans, and I try desperately to focus on the movie in front of us. Evie doesn’t stop. She simply huddles closer, leaning into me as her other hand rests on my thigh. Her finger traces patterns on my jeans, slowly moving toward my now-bulging crotch.

I glance at Em and Irry. They sit perfectly relaxed, side by side, watching the movie.

“Bedtime.” Evie angles her head up, her lips almost brushing my earlobe.

“Why don’t we go for a walk?” I rumble back on a threadbare breath.

She smiles up at me. “I could catch some air.”

Thank fuck .

It’s not that I don’t want to devour her—I am dying to do just that. But with Em and Iris awake downstairs, it feels...

“Come on, old man, let’s take a turn of the town square.” She squeezes my leg.

I clear my throat. “We’re going for a walk.”

Em looks up with a frown. “You want company?”

“No, we’re good,” Evie chirps.

Understanding claims Em’s face, and he grins before turning back to the movie.

“Oh,” Iris says, pausing the movie. “Can you grab ice cream on the way back?”

“Sure.” Evie grabs my hand, leading me away. I slide my wallet from the kitchen counter where I dropped it earlier and shove it into my back pocket. We weave through the café and make the sidewalk as she bursts out laughing.

I pin her to the front door as it closes. A huffy breath tumbles from those pretty fucking lips.

“God, Cal. All I could think of the entire thirty minutes on the couch was straddling your lap.” She tugs on my collar, now wrapped in her fingers, and I drop my mouth to hers.

I run my tongue along the seam of her lips, wanting in.

She opens automatically, the way she always does for me.

I claim every part of her she willingly surrenders.

Fine fingers wander into my hair. I grab her wrists, shoving them against the door above her head. The bell jingles as the door rattles with our movement.

Fuck.

Not wanting my sister to walk out and ruin the moment, I haul Evie to my waist and start for the marina. Kisses dot all over my face and down my neck as her hands turn to fists in my hair. As I take the first step heading down to the docks, she pops her head up. “No. I want to see Pearl.”

“You want to see a useless old relic in dry dock?”

“Uh huh.” Deep browns study my face. “Please.”

“Alright. But don’t get your hopes up. She’s a damn wreck.”

“They’re the best ones . . .”

Emotion sees me clench my jaw shut tight.

I turn on my heel and head for the dry dock on the other side of the watchhouse.

Evie’s eyes study me the entire way, as if she can pull whatever information from my head with one look.

Her scanning eyes have probably seen the entire Callum McCreary User Manual by the time we reach the large diamond-mesh metal gates to the dry dock yard.

“Put me down,” she says, twisting back.

I set her on her feet, and she tugs at the gate. The chain around it, locked, rattles but doesn’t budge.

I wrap my arms around her waist, hugging her from behind. “Errol has the key.”

“Looks like we’re breaking and entering, then.”

She reaches for the top of the gate and hauls herself up the mesh.

I assist with my hands on her gorgeous ass.

She tips over the top and jumps down, landing on her feet.

I follow, less elegantly than Evie. Inside, we wander through the small allotments home to a variety of vessels.

Some are seaworthy but not in use, some are busted. Some lots are empty.

We finally reach the far back corner where she stands on her tripods, in the spot Em and I left her years ago, tucked up with hole-ridden, weathered covers.

One has slipped off completely, and the paint is peeled on the exposed front of the boat.

Evie walks around Pearl as if discovering a new treasure for the first time, running her hand along the side of the old boat, over the cloth keeping the boat’s true form a secret.

I pull the covers from her as I walk around, sending years of dust and mildew up into the air. Waving a hand to clear the murky cloud, I toss the covers to the ground as I go.

Evie comes to my side. “She’s wonderful, Cal.”

I huff a laugh. “She’s going to need a lot of work.”

Evie’s face lights up. “So we’re doing this, then?”

“Between the bike and the boat, we’re not going to have much free time...”

“Does it matter, if we’re together?”

“Em’s going to have to help, baby. This is going to take a hell of a lot of skill.”

“Okay . . .”

I wrap her into my hold. “You want to go aboard?”

“Can I?”

“Should be safe. Just take it easy.” I steady the ladder as she climbs aboard.

The old boat moves a little with her weight but stays put.

When she’s safely aboard, I climb up. Evie pads around the deck slowly, running her hands over every surface she goes past, bending her neck to look up the half a mast that’s left.

“How long will it take?” she asks, spinning back to me.

“Maybe eighteen months. Longer, if we get busy.”