Page 1 of For the Promise (The Raider Brothers #2)

Blossom – a woman who loves adventure – as long as it fits within her time schedule

Blossom

I bounce on my toes and rub my hands together. “This is going to be awesome.”

Dakota stares up at the rollercoaster. “I don’t know.”

I elbow her. “The Siren’s Spiral is meant for children.”

“There are over-the-shoulder harnesses.”

“Safety is important.”

She points to the loop. “It goes upside down.”

“Thus, the over-the-shoulder harness.”

“Upside down doesn’t scream children.” She motions to the line. “And there aren’t many children waiting.”

I bat my eyelashes at her. “Please go on the rollercoaster with me. You’ll be my best friend.”

She snorts. “You proclaimed me your best friend two minutes after we met.”

Of course, I did. Dakota and I are two of the few people who live full-time on the island of Smuggler’s Hideaway but didn’t grow up here. Everyone else on the island has friends they’ve known since they were in diapers.

“Best friends go on rollercoasters together.”

She shakes her head, but she’s smiling. “I guess I have no choice.”

“Yea!” I shout before throwing my arms around her.

She stiffens in my embrace for a few seconds before relaxing.

I don’t know Dakota’s story yet. But she’s obviously been hurt and doesn’t trust easily.

I haven’t pushed her since I understand not trusting easily.

And, okay, maybe I don’t want to tell my story either.

I release her before pushing her toward the line.

“Twenty minutes from here,” Dakota moans as she reads the sign.

I set the alarm on my phone for twenty minutes.

“Did you just set an alarm?”

“Duh. We can’t keep on schedule if we don’t manage our time properly.”

She stares at me. “Manage our time properly? We’re at an amusement park on our day off.”

“And we have a whole list of attractions to fit in. Carol Carousel, Atlantis Adventure , Kraken’s Drop , Grotto Rapids , and Triton’s Twister .”

The Mermaid Mystical Gardens amusement park names all of their rides after mythical creatures or places. Which is fitting since the park is located on the spot where a mermaid supposedly dove to her death after her pirate lover died .

“You’re crazy if you think I’ll go on a ride named Kraken’s Drop. ”

I curl my bottom lip in a pout. “And here I thought you were fun.”

“And here I thought you knew better than to try and emotionally blackmail your best friend.”

I snort. “Ha! What’s the purpose of a best friend if you can’t emotionally blackmail her?”

“I’m beginning to regret walking into Pirates Pastries the day we met.”

I throw an arm around her. “Don’t lie. No one can regret a pastry from Parker. Besides, I’m the best thing to ever happen to you.”

“And so very modest, too.”

I shrug as I drop my arm. “What’s the point in being modest? It’s not as if anyone else is going to toot my horn.”

She groans. “Please tell me you’re not carrying around a horn you expect me to toot.”

I sigh. “No room for a horn in this tiny bag.”

We shuffle a few feet forward. “This line is going to take forever,” Dakota whines. “This is the first time we've moved since we’ve been in it.”

I check my timer and frown. “We’ve been in line for two minutes. I don’t think their ‘20 minutes from here’-sign is correct.”

“I hate standing in lines. It’s such a waste of time.”

I agree with her, but I’m keeping my mouth shut. Dakota will use any excuse to not ride the rollercoaster. She’s not getting out of this line on my watch. Even if I have to adjust my plan for the day.

“Let’s play a game to make the time pass.”

“I think we’re a little old for ‘I spy with my little eye’.”

I grin. “How about twenty questions? Smuggler’s Hideaway style.”

“What’s Smuggler’s Hideaway style?”

“You know how the island is obsessed with mermaids, smugglers, and moonshine?”

She snorts. “How could I miss it? Do you know how many women at the Mermaid Motel are walking around dressed up as mermaids?”

“You must have lots of fun working at the motel.”

“Your definition of fun and mine are not the same.”

I ignore her grumpy response since I know Dakota is not a grump. She’s just tired. “Are you ready to pick a person or thing related to Smuggler’s Hideaway?”

We shuffle forward in the line for a few feet but stop again. “Fine. I’ll play. It’ll take my mind off standing in line.”

“It’s twenty minutes. What else do you have to do?”

She taps her cheek with her finger. “Hmm… What would I do? Oh yeah, now I remember. Sleep.”

A stab of guilt for denying her sleep hits me – Dakota works two full-time jobs and is always exhausted – but I ignore it. I’m not allowing my best friend to work herself into an early grave. She needs to have some fun, too.

I raise an eyebrow. “You’re going to sleep standing up?”

“I…” She breaks off to yawn. “Yes, yes, I am. ”

“Come on,” I plead. “Let’s play the game.”

“Fine.” She gives in. “But only because I’m afraid of what you’ll write on my face if I fall asleep.”

I gasp. “I would never.”

“Because you can’t fit any markers in your tiny bag.”

I scowl. “I don’t know why I couldn’t bring my backpack into the park.”

She giggles. “Probably because it was filled with tiny bottles of liquor.”

“Have you seen the prices of beverages at this place? Outrageous. Do you want to ask questions or pick a person or thing first?”

“Ask questions.”

I try to come up with a person Dakota will never guess. It’s kind of mean thinking of a legend she doesn’t know yet, but it’s a game. And I’m determined to win. It’s possible I may be a little competitive. Okay. Fine. More than a little.

“I’m ready.”

Dakota studies me for a few seconds. “Are you real or imaginary?”

“Yes or no questions only.”

“Are you imaginary?”

“Kinda.”

She glares at me. “If I can only ask yes or no questions, you can only answer with yes or no.”

“Fine,” I huff. “Yes.”

“Are you a mermaid? ”

“Obviously, she’s a mermaid,” some man behind me says. “She has long, beautiful hair.”

I try to ignore him, but he pushes his way forward until he’s standing next to me in the line. “What’s your name, mermaid?”

“Not interested. I’m talking to my friend.” I give him my back but he maneuvers himself until he’s in front of me.

“No budging in the line.” I’m dead serious. Budging in line is a sin. It causes havoc with time management.

“There’s no reason to play hard to get. It’s mermaid karaoke season. You’re a mermaid. I’m a smuggler. Let’s get together.”

“Mermaid karaoke season has nothing to do with me.”

I’m not lying to get rid of him. I’m a resident of Smuggler’s Hideaway. I’m not some woman on vacation on the island dressing up as a mermaid and singing karaoke at the Bootlegger bar in a bid to catch a smuggler.

I have no interest in catching a man – smuggler or not. Men are sneaky creatures who are not to be trusted. Rage pokes at me as memories of why men are not to be trusted try to push to the forefront of my mind.

I shove them down. It’s my day off and I’m spending it with my best friend. This is not the appropriate moment to reflect on what a fool I was.

“Fine. If you want me to chase you, I’ll chase you,” the man says.

“I do not want you to chase me. I want you to go back to where you were in line and pretend I don’t exist. ”

His gaze rakes over my body. It is not a cursory gaze. It’s a slimy ‘I bet I know how you look without clothes on’-gaze. My stomach nearly gurgles as revulsion fills me.

“Sorry, doll, but you’re impossible to forget.”

I roll my eyes. “Go feed your cheesy lines to someone else. I’m not interested.”

“You don’t have to be a bitch.”

I widen my eyes. “I’m being a bitch because I asked you to leave us alone and when you refused, I tell you I’m not interested? Whatever.” I give him my back. I’m not wasting my time on him anymore.

“Where were we?” I ask Dakota.

She glares at the man. “Teaching this piece of trash a lesson.”

I bark out a laugh. “I knew we were best friends for a reason.”

She raises an eyebrow. “A reason other than you’re crazy?”

“Crazy is a subjective word.”

She shrugs. “If the subjective word fits…”

“I’m not the one who cuddled an otter she didn’t know.”

“Viking is adorable.”

The man’s gaze ping-pongs between us. “Both of you are fucking crazy,” he grumbles before pushing his way through the line of people and marching away.

“Good riddance.” I wave at him and he gives me the finger. “Wow. Someone didn’t get the message about this place being for children.” I rub my hands together. “Back to our game. I believe you’ve used up three questions.”

“I’d rather hear about why you hate men. ”

“I don’t hate men. Men can be very useful.” I waggle my eyebrows.

“But not for anything else?”

I raise my eyebrows. “Are you ready to tell me your backstory?” Her nose wrinkles. “Right back at ya, sister.”

My past is too embarrassing for words. I feel my cheeks heat as I remember what a fool I was. Welp. I’ve learned my lesson. No more falling for men. No more trusting men.

This woman is officially on a no-men diet.

Too bad I’ve never been any good at sticking to diets.