Page 4 of Her Wedding Night
Someone calls his name, and he frowns before he excuses himself.
Even though I made my drink pretty weak, it still makes me head spin. Or maybe that’s the extravagant wealth everywhere I look.
“Hey, Lucy.” One of the frat guys on the other side of the bar lifts his cup in my direction, then strides over. “Tonight’s going to be fun. Glad you decided to join us.”
“Back off, Forrest,” Ethan growls, reappearing at my side. “Sorry, Lucy.”
“It’s okay.” I take another drink, this time a bigger gulp.
Ethan shoves at Forrest’s shoulder. “Go tell Gilly to get the captain to fire this thing up and let’s take it out.”
“Out?” My stomach quivers.
Ethan grins. “A little night cruise.”
“There’s a captain?” I glance up at the top deck of the gleaming white boat.
Forrest smirks. “And a cook, but it’s the cook’s night off.”
“Oh wow.”
Ethan leans in, his breath warm against my cheek, and then my ear. “The captain can be bribed.”
My heart goes into free fall for reasons I can’t name. That doesn’t sound good. “Why…do you need to bribe him?”
“We’re going to be gambling tonight.” His voice is low and private. “There are so many things that are legal out on the ocean that we can't do here.”
My head swims trying to guess at the possibilities. I take another sip of my drink, as if the answers to anything ever lay at the bottom of a red Solo cup. Then I try to ignore the way he watches my tongue, his gaze hot and lingering, when I lick the boozy sweetness off my lower lip.
No, this is not a good idea.
“Where is a bathroom?” I ask.
“There’s a cabin for you.” Ethan tries to guide me deeper into the boat, but I don’t want that.
“Sort of urgent,” I say.
Hannah smirks lazily at me from a nearby sun bed. “There’s a head right through there.”
Ignoring the way Ethan glowers at her—not my problem—I dart in that direction.
Whatever feelings of loneliness drove me to accept the invitation to this party, they aren’t nearly as strong as my feelings of self-reservation.
On one level, none of this feels real. It’s like playing dress up, but with an undercurrent of very real, grown up danger.
I don’t need that in my life.
That burning, desperate ache that has been growing inside me won’t be satisfied tonight. Not here, not with any of these people.
I do need something. But it's not this. And it's not here.
As soon as I’m sure they're not looking, I head for the gangway.
But I stop short at the bottom of the stairs, because across the dock, in the shadows of the boat across the way, is a man.
Taller than anyone else in town.
Broader than anyone else in town.