Page 26

On the Rocks

Sam

“ Y ou smell good.” Haley nuzzles her nose into my neck. “What is it? I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

“My new cologne. Do you like it?” I laugh.

“I do.” Her lips purse.

Easton shakes his head, and he pulls out a small cloth bag.

“All right, everyone grab a rock. Don’t show it.

” He starts with Dante, then Zane. Calvin takes the bag out of his hand, shakes it and pulls one.

He passes it to me. I swish my hand around in the stiff fabric bag.

My chin flicks to Easton. There are only two rocks left.

But Haley, Easton, and I still need to pick a rock.

“I’ll take that from you, Sam,” says Easton.

“I want a rock.” Haley grabs at the bag.

Easton frowns. “No, trust me, Haley, you don’t.”

“I’ll share my rock with you, Sassy.”

“There’s no rock sharing,” Easton says.

“What sort of game have you gotten us into?” Zane laughs.

“Relax, I’ll explain after we reveal rocks.”

“Last time I heard something like that, I lost twenty quid. But okay, let’s do it.” Zane thrusts his hand out in front of his chest, and the rest of us do the same. Haley’s got her arms crossed over her chest, her lips in a slight pout; it has me thinking about making her do other things with them.

“Firefly, if you would do the honors.” Easton wiggles his eyebrows, and Haley drops her arms.

“Reveal,” she giggles. “I don’t know why I get such a kick out of saying that. Makes me feel like a game show host.”

We all turn our palms over, and they have four white rocks, but in the middle of my hand is a dark rock.

“Sam, you’ve got the dark rock.”

“Indeed. Now are you going to explain my fate?”

“It’s simple: to honor the day, you’re Haley’s servant.”

“Oh, bloody hell. Trade you, Sam.” Zane holds out his rock.

“Not a chance.” I slide the smooth stone into my shorts pocket. “How can I serve you, my queen?”

Haley clasps her hand over her face. She’s shaking her head. “Oh, I...”

“We could all have done that.” Dante grimaces. “Heck, I do that every?—”

“Shut it,” Calvin says.

When I see how red Haley’s turning, Easton’s point is evident.

If he’d plopped a crown on the top of her head and declared her island queen, she’d freeze up.

She might even with just me. She’s used to being the one to solve the problems, even after we’ve all shown her how much she means to us. Yeah.

“In fact, leave them alone. I need your help.” Calvin walks toward the stream.

“Who are you talking to?” Easton asks.

“Everyone but Sam and Haley. Move.” He gestures.

“Hold up here. We’re not your servants,” Dante protests, but he walks down the path with Easton and Zane after Calvin.

“Now, how can I be of service, my lady?” I ask.

“I want to weave a new mat for the living platform?—”

I cut her off. “No work. Just relaxing.”

“But what if I want to?” she asks.

“Then think of how much fun you’ll have tomorrow. Why don’t I make you a glass of wine? And set you up with a chair on the beach, and you can read.”

“I’ve read that book four times.”

“You can pretend to read while you nap. Then I can wash your hair for you.”

“Oh, that part sounds nice. Do you think you could cut it?”

“Cut it?” I’m being such a guy—I see how much work it is. “Sure, I will promise to do my best.”

“That’s not very reassuring.”

I shrug. “A straight line, I can do.”

“That’s all I want. Just a few inches.” She laughs. “You should have seen the look on your face. What did you think I wanted you to give me—a pixie cut?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“Never. I have the weirdest-shaped head. In all my baby pictures, I have a hat on. It’s really like a cone or a bullet. Horrible.” Her eyes flick to the sky and back to me. “Just a trim.”

“What were you thinking there?”

“It’s nothing. My ex. I’m trying to reprogram myself from all the things he said to me over the years.”

“Yes, he was not only an ass but a fool. Your head is a lovely shape.”

“Right.” She crosses her arms over her chest.

“Now sit. I’ll open a bottle of wine.”

“Are you sure? Maybe we should wait.”

“You heard Easton. You get what you want. Do you want a glass of wine?”

“Yes, please.”

She’s patient as I open the bottle of wine. I don’t mangle the cork, but I’m not a sommelier or a chief stew.

I pick up a bowl of fruit that Dante has out. I can’t help but wonder if Easton let him in on the plan, because under a cloth there’s what certainly looks like a picnic to me.

“I’ll just run up and get the scissors and my shampoo.”

“No, Sugar. You’re going to come with me and sit while I get everything else.”

“Okay.”

I take one of the two beach chairs, the food, wine, and a glass. “Right this way, Ms. Brewster. I believe we have a beach picnic for you.”

“Let me carry something, Sam.”

“The primary never carries anything.”

Her eyes go wide. “Unless they want to.” She holds out her hand and wiggles her fingers.

I hand her the bottle of wine. She raises her eyebrows but holds the bottle to her chest and leads us to the shady spot on the beach.

It’s a nice spot away from the fish weir.

“I had a primary a few years ago—they weren’t owners, but they’d rented the yacht for two months.

She was nice—too nice. It was a battle to get her to not make her own drinks.

” Haley sets the bottle of wine down on a large stone, anointing our spot.

“So you see what I’m dealing with here?” I rake the sand away from her chair, like the deck crew would have done for a yacht guest. Only I use my fingers until I find a stick with two little branches. I’m sure I look crazy grooming the sand with a twig, but Haley’s laughing, so I don’t care.

“That wasn’t the point of my story, but I can see how you twisted it to help your agenda.

” She giggles and takes my twig away from me, twirling it between her fingers.

Then she waits patiently for me to set up the chair.

When she’s sitting, I hand her the glass.

I retrieve the bottle and pour a taste of the wine.

I’ve seen stews do this, but I’ve never actually done it myself.

My pour is a little large, but she doesn’t mention it.

She swirls the wine and sniffs it before taking a dainty sip. “Damn, Rocky has good taste in wine.”

“It’s to your liking?” I’ve got a cocky smirk on.

“I’m not sending it back, if that’s what you mean. Unless?” She shifts left and right, gazing out at the horizon. No boat in sight. She holds the glass up, and I pour more. “I think you should have some too.”

“You think?” This is a lot for her, but if she’s going to get everything she wants out of life, I need to push her. I’m going to have her ordering me around by the time the day is over. “I think I could arrange that. Stay put. I’ll be right back.” I run along the zigzag path to the treehouse.

Penny is curious as to what I’m doing, but then she puts her head down on her paws and huffs. She just wants Pepper to play, but she’s not having it. Pepper gazes down at Penny from the living room platform.

Up on the sleeping platform, I grab the bedraggled paperback, one of the small mats we sometimes take down to the beach, a few towels, things to wash her hair with, some clean clothes, and anything else I think we might need.

I nestle my pile into one of Haley’s baskets.

This one looks more like a basket than her previous ones.

I snatch another one of the glasses I brought on that very first trip here from the kitchen area too, and I’m back on the beach.

My girl has her eyes closed, her hands folded over her lap. She’s not asleep. I see her twitch as I approach.

“Hey, Sugar.”

She breaks out into a wide smile. “I love it when you call me that,” she says, her eyes still closed. She brings her glass to her lips and takes a sip. “This really is good wine.” She licks her lips.

I pour some for myself and plop down on the mat next to her chair.

It’s oaky with a little chocolate undertone, and the flavors zing across my tastebuds.

I haven’t really had wine since that day back on the boat, on Haley’s birthday.

I take her hand from where it rests on the arm of the chair and bring it to my mouth, pressing a light kiss to her knuckles.

“It’s good. So you like being called ‘Sugar?’”

Her blue eyes sparkle in the afternoon sunlight. “I do. I like all my nicknames.”

I cock my head at her. “Really? There are quite a few.”

“There are.” She smiles, her eyes closing again. She sucks her lips into her mouth, wetting them.

I take a few things out of the basket. “I have your book.”

Haley takes it, bringing it to her lap. “It’s a good book. But if I’d known it was going to be the only book I had to read for the rest of my life...”

“I don’t know,” I say. “I like the part where he sneaks into her bedroom.”

“You do?” She laughs. “You’ve read it?”

“Haley, Sugar, Sweetie, we’ve all read it multiple times. Even Easton. I had to stop Dante from reading it out loud. I still can’t believe the heroine forgave him for what he did.”

Haley nods, her eyes closed. “You’ll do funny things for love.”

“Yeah, that’s not real love. He was selfish and there were red flags everywhere.”

“I suppose he did kill her stalker.”

“And then made her an accomplice,” I groan.

“It’s a dark romance, Sam. There’s supposed to be red flags.” She leans forward and kisses me. The wine on her lips is sweeter than the liquid in my glass, that’s for sure. I place my glass on the rock next to hers, and she loops her hands around my neck, then slides off the chair into my lap.

When our lips part, my cock is hard and her eyes are dazed. “What can I get you now, my queen? A lot of guests order beach massages.”

“But however will you find a masseuse on such short notice?”

“I happen to know a guy.” I take both of her hands and help her stand up. She waits while I de-sand the mat and a towel which I roll up for a pillow. I reach for the bottom of her T-shirt, but she’s ahead of me and pulls her shirt off.

Now she’s smirking at me. “I love you, my queen.”

“I love you, Sam.”

My smile’s so big it covers my face. “What, no king? Ah, true, you’re not a queen—you’re the empress with five kings.” I wiggle the fingers on my right hand at her.

She laughs, her fingers tugging on the hem of my shirt. It lands in the sand at our feet. Her hand lands flat on my chest. We stare into each other’s eyes. “I love fun, playful Sam. I mean, I love serious, badass Sam too. My king.”

“Massage or hair first?” I raise my eyebrows at her. I take her hand and look at the supplies for her hair.

She brings her ponytail to her nose and sniffs. “No one should have to smell this rat’s nest.”

“Let’s take care of that. But then we have some playing to do,” I say, squeezing her hand three times.