Page 143 of Pucking Sweet

She drives us another twenty minutes south on the A1A until we’re back in St. Augustine. But she doesn’t head downtown. She drives us over to a marina, parking in a lot by a little fish camp restaurant.

“Are we going to dinner?” I say, ready to pull up the restaurant on my phone and check reviews. I’m a religious Yelper.

“We can,” she says, slipping out of the car. “If you’re both still hungry after.”

“After what?” I say, unfolding my massive body from this tiny backseat. It was sweet of her to drive, but in future, I think I’m gonna have to insist we take my truck or Cole’s SUV.

Cole steps around the car, taking her hand. “Babe, you didn’t.”

She smiles up at him, looking radiant as the setting sun shines in the reflection of her glasses. “Of course I did.”

“It was for two people.”

She shrugs. “I changed the reservation to three.”

Smiling, he cups her face and kisses her, his free hand snaking around to grab her ass, making her giggle and swat at his hand.

I roll my eyes. “And while this is charming to watch. Clearly, you both know something I don’t. One of you better fill me in before I walk off the edge of the pier and get eaten by a manatee.”

They break apart, Poppy laughing. “Manatees are herbivores.”

“Yeah, they eat mostly seagrass,” Cole adds.

Oh, that’s another thing about them that drives me fucking crazy. They love watching animal documentaries. Do you know how many hours of bug shows I’ve watched this week? Okay, it was, like, one…but one is a lot. We could’ve been having sex instead.

Poppy tips up on her toes, kissing Colton’s cheek again, holding his hand in both of hers. With the row of sailboats behind them, theylook like a damn Nautica ad. Unable to help myself, I slip my phone from my pocket and snap a picture of them.

“Lukas, honey, will you get the cooler from the trunk while I get us checked in?” Poppy calls.

I open the trunk to find a striped soft-sided beach cooler. I zip it open. She’s packed fruit, meats, cheeses, sliced bread—everything you need for a picnic. Two bottles of wine stick out from a side compartment.

“Come on,” Cole calls, waving me over. He’s standing at the edge of the dock.

Slinging the picnic bag on my shoulder, I close the trunk and head over to where he’s waiting. “What the hell are we doing?”

He smiles. “Remember that sunset cruise I had you bid on at the silent auction?” He gestures down the row of boats. There at the end, a big white one sits waiting for us. Poppy is standing on the dock, laughing and talking with her hands at a pair of shirtless guys in board shorts and sunnies.

I smile too, feeling a lightness growing in my chest. Of course I fucking remember. I felt like a saint standing there bidding on it for him, knowing I was shipping them off on a love boat without me. “But that was for two people.”

He wraps an arm around my shoulders, leading the way down the dock. “Now, it’s for three.”

50

Our sailboat races over the choppy water, a spray of sea air hitting my sunglasses as I laugh, flipping them up into my hair. The weather is perfect for a sunset cruise. Perhaps a little chilly out on the open water, but Steve and Mike, our deck crew, provided me with a big striped beach towel to drape over my legs.

Colton and Lukas sit to either side of me, laughing and talking. I haven’t felt this relaxed in ages. We ate all the snacks I brought, and now we’re just stretched out on the blue canvas deck cushions, enjoying this time together.

I’ve felt protective of what we have, like I want us safe and hidden inside a little shell. Hard-sided and resilient, it will keep the world out and just let us be…whatever it is that we are. No mothers with strong opinions, no sisters with biting jokes, no strangers with narrowed looks.

Out here on this open ocean, I feel completely free.

“Let’s take a picture,” I say, pulling out my phone. The boys lean in and Colton takes the phone to snap a few selfies. They get increasingly obnoxious, starting with kissing my cheek, and ending with Lukas licking my face. “Ugh—stop it,” I cry, wiping my cheek as he laughs. “Can you be serious for two seconds, please?”

He snatches my phone, taking a look at the photos. “Oh yeah, this one’s a keeper.” He shows me the last picture—my face of alarm as he squeezes my cheek, his tongue out, mid-lick, Colton’s face next to mine, laughing.

“Erase that one,” I cry as Colton says, “Send it to me.”

“Already sent it,” says Lukas, handing me back my phone.