Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Talia
I pour myself a cup of the coffee Lucien brewed in our room, burning my mouth on the first sip.
I’m exhausted after a long, mostly sleepless night. I slept on the flight here and Lucien didn’t, so when we went to bed last night, he fell asleep fast.
Not me. I just lay there, either looking at him or thinking about him. The king-size bed is big enough that we weren’t touching, but I was aware of him every second. His warmth. His closeness. His bare chest and arms. The dark locks of hair falling over his forehead.
Lucien isn’t what he’s supposed to be. He’s supposed to look right past me because I have a thick waist. Or want me, but only for sex.
I spent all those months alone on my couch with snacks and comfort shows, figuring things out.
And I realized that men in general—and hockey players in particular—are transactional.
They’re careful with the energy they spend on a woman.
Then Lucien blew my realizations to shreds. He came with me on this trip, which is taking up his entire five-day break from hockey. And while I know from his compliments and flirting that he’s interested in me, I’ve never felt pressured. He’s never shown agitation or impatience.
It’s confusing as hell. Everything was easier when I expected all men to disappoint me.
He opens the bathroom door and steam escapes the room as he walks out and says, “Hey, good morning.”
“Morning. Thanks for the coffee.”
He’s only wearing a towel around his waist, and even though I’ve seen him this way many times in the locker room, it’s another thing entirely to be alone in a hotel room with him. If he dropped the towel, I could see every inch of him.
His dark, wavy hair is wet and messy. The closer he gets to me, the dizzier I feel. His woodsy, masculine scent is like a drug I can’t get enough of.
“I’ve got a plan for today.” He stops just a couple feet away from me, so close I can see the wetness of his dark, thick eyelashes.
I drink the too-hot coffee, trying to distract myself from his presence. If he looks at my nipples, it’s over. He’ll see how turned on I am.
“What is it?” My voice is a croak, my mouth protesting the scalding coffee.
“We’re going to lay it on thick. Lots of affection and laughing. They’ll think we’re the happiest couple in the fucking world.”
I’ll never forget the way I felt last night when Kyle stormed over to us in a rage. He looked between me and Lucien like we’d betrayed him. Like I was supposed to be the scorned, sad ex who couldn’t stop crying.
Kyle never laid a hand on me, but he would punch things when he was really angry, and it scared me. There was no fear with Lucien beside me, though. Between him and my Dad, Kyle wouldn’t even make it to me before he found himself tossed overboard.
“I’m going to be awkward,” I admit. “I’ve never been in a relationship with much affection.”
He scoffs. “Yeah, that tracks, knowing Macintire.”
I back up, both to lower my blood pressure and to make sure he can’t smell my morning breath, now laced with coffee. “Should I just pet your head like you’re a dog?”
He smiles, his eyes warm. “You’re pretty killer at dry delivery, Turner.”
Damn. Every compliment from him is like a shot of endorphins injected directly into my veins.
“When you scratch my ears, I should thump my leg, right?”
“Just follow my lead. I’ll tell you what to do.”
A laugh bursts out of me. “Is this going to involve blow jobs?”
“No, but there will be kissing.”
My heart skips about ten beats, but I try to look unbothered. “Okay.”
He walks over to me, his closeness making my stomach flutter with awareness. He wasn’t supposed to do this, either. I’d resolved to be uncharmable. No man would make me weak in the knees ever again. But my knees aren’t exactly steady right now.
“Okay, this is the move,” he says softly. “When I do this, I’m about to kiss you.”
He curls his index finger, using his knuckle to tilt my chin up. He looks into my eyes, leaning closer.
“No!” I step back. “Not yet, I haven’t brushed my teeth.”
He rolls his eyes and grins. “Go do it then, so we can practice.”
“You think I need to practice kissing?”
His playful grin makes me forget I don’t want to let myself fall for him. “Definitely. We both do.”
I go into the still-steamy bathroom and wipe my palm over the mirror so I can see myself. My hair is everywhere. I look like hell, and Lucien still wants to kiss me.
I’m thorough with the teeth brushing, and I pull my hair up into a messy bun and wash my face, too. The steam fog is clearing from the bathroom mirror, and I smile at my reflection.
This trip wasn’t supposed to be fun. It was supposed to be horrible. Once again, Lucien is turning my expectations upside down.
I take a deep breath and open the bathroom door. He’s right there, and he cups my cheek with his hand and puts the other hand on the small of my back, pulling us together.
A squeak of surprise comes out of me as his mouth covers mine. I melt into him then, putting my arms around his neck. His warm, sensual kiss awakens not just my mouth, but my entire body. I feel it all the way down to the tips of my toes.
I’ve never been kissed like this. I slide a hand up into his hair, plowing my fingers over his scalp. He groans in response and pulls me tighter against him, his tongue brushing over mine.
I don’t want to pull away from him. Not ever. But my body makes me—so I can breathe in air. He doesn’t release his hold on me. Both his arms are around my waist now, and he’s bending down, his forehead resting lightly against mine.
“That’s my other move,” he says against my lips.
“It’s good.” I’m still breathless. “I can see how that one works well for you.”
“No squealing like you’re not used to it. Just kiss me back like I’m your man and you don’t care who knows it. Like I kiss you this way eighteen times a day.”
I don’t put the back of my palm over my forehead like I’m about to pass out, but inside I. Am. Swooning. I’m swooning hard.
All I can do is nod. “Eighteen times a day. Got it.”
He steps back and I immediately miss his heat and closeness. “Have you ever paddleboarded?”
“What?”
Paddleboarding. Our activities today are learning paddleboarding and hiking a volcano with the bridal party and the rest of the family members.
“Oh. Uh ... I did it once. I’m not good at it.”
“I’m decent.”
Of course he is. How can he be thinking about paddleboarding when I’m still reeling from that kiss? It was like that scene in The Wizard of Oz where everything switches from black and white to color.
That’s how amazing a kiss can be. I can’t unknow that now.
“You okay with me smacking your ass or not?”
I furrow my brow. “Right now?”
He quirks a brow, amused. “No, in general. Some guys smack their woman’s ass.”
“Not in public, no. I’ll probably punch you if you smack my ass in public.”
“Got it, only in private.” He winks.
Today is either going to be amazing or a catastrophe. I honestly don’t know which it’ll be. But it definitely won’t be boring with Lucien around.
“No lessons.” The guy who was supposed to teach our group paddleboarding lessons points at the sign stuck in the sand. “Like I said, there’s a box jellyfish advisory. All our lessons are canceled today.”
“No!” Audra pouts. “I have the photographer coming and everything.” She looks at Kyle, like he can do anything about it.
He’s glaring at Lucien, who has his arm around me. I’m wearing a two-piece swimsuit, but it has a high waist and a long top, so only about an inch of my midriff shows. It’s cut to maximize my breasts, though, which I think look spectacular. I have a wrap around my waist and a straw hat on my head.
“We’ll find something else to do,” one of the bridesmaids, Kayla, says. “Maybe kayaking?”
“We’re not renting kayaks today, either,” the guide says. He looks at Kyle and Audra. “We’ll issue a full refund for today. Enjoy the rest of your trip.”
“Well, this sucks,” Audra says glumly as the guide walks away. “I really wanted to paddleboard on this trip.”
“Maybe we can do it the day after the wedding,” Kayla says.
The bridesmaids are easily identifiable because they’re all wearing cropped white T-shirts that say “Bridesmaid,” with Audra and Kyle’s names and wedding date. I snuck a photo of one of them earlier and sent it to Suki, Mara, and Lainey.
Lucien strips off his T-shirt and drops it to the sand. “I’ve always wondered what it feels like to get stung by a jellyfish.”
One of Kyle’s groomsmen lets out a single note of laughter. “It hurts like fuck, man. Don’t do it.”
Now I know why none of his groomsmen are hockey players. Lucien said it’s well known that all of his former teammates from Vancouver hate him, and why. They all made sure no one else would get burned by trusting him like they did.
“I’m gonna go for a swim,” Lucien says, kissing my temple.
I gape at him. “What? Why?”
He gestures to the vinegar rinsing station nearby. “I’ll rinse off if I get stung.”
He slides out of his flip-flops. Everyone is looking at him like he’s out of his mind, including me.
“I’ll go too.” Kyle pulls his T-shirt off.
I’m not surprised. His ego is too massive to stand here while Lucien swims with jellyfish.
“Want to race?” Lucien asks.
“Hell yeah. I’m not saving your ass if you drown.”
Lucien points at a buoy in the water. “Around that and back?”
“Kyle, no,” Audra says sharply. “You are not doing this. I don’t want your face all stung up on our wedding day.”
He sneers at her. “Keep your panties on. I’ll be fine.”
One of the bridesmaids I don’t know, gasps, probably at his dismissive tone.
“What the fuck, man?” one of the groomsmen, Mark, says. “I guess I have to do it, too.”
“No one has to do it!” Audra cries. “This is stupid!”
I agree with her, but I’m not going to undercut Lucien by saying that in front of everyone. He must have a reason for doing this.
“Three, two, one, go!” Lucien says.
He and Kyle run into the water and the wedding photographer walks up to us. At least I assume that’s who it is. She has a huge camera around her neck and a bag over her shoulder.
Audra covers her face with her hands, crouching down. I’m quietly picturing Kyle’s face being red and swollen in all their wedding photos, and I’m probably a bad person for how giddy it makes me.
They’re halfway to the buoy when Kyle yells out, “Fuck!”
He keeps swimming, though. The two of them are side by side, both swimming hard and fast.
They make it around the buoy, Audra standing now and biting her lip as she watches.
Kyle falters about a third of the way back. Lucien moves like a machine, nothing slowing him down.
“He got stung,” Kayla says softly.
When Lucien runs up onto the beach, he runs his hands over his hair, grinning. “A couple of ’em got me. It’s not so bad, though.”
Not so bad? He has several bright-red welts on his chest, and a couple more on one of his biceps.
“It doesn’t hurt?” I approach him, concerned.
I’ve taken enough first aid classes to know that jellyfish stings hurt. It’s like getting whipped with a red-hot whip.
“Nah.”
Kyle gasps for breath as he reaches a point where he can stand, doubling over. Two of his groomsmen run out to help him.
“I got fucking nailed!” he yells, standing up and refusing their offers of help. “It fucking burns!”
“You idiot.” Audra is seething.
Lucien picks up his T-shirt and puts it back on, unfazed. The groomsmen and bridesmaids are all fussing over Kyle, one of the groomsmen pulling his swim trunks down and yelling, “You want me to piss on it?”
Kyle’s legs and back got stung. He’s moaning and groaning dramatically, the photographer quietly snapping away.
“My work here is done,” Lucien whispers. “Want to go grab breakfast?”
I spent so long getting ready, worried about what I was wearing, that we didn’t have time to eat before we came.
“Sure.”
We sneak away from the chaos, and he takes my hand. I’m still not sure what happened, but Lucien brought his Loki energy out at the perfect time.
“Want to find a restaurant nearby?” I ask him.
He nods, his expression grim. “After we find a rinsing station at another beach. These stings hurt like a motherfucker. I just didn’t want to let on in front of them.”
I never thought I’d be turned on by a man deliberately getting stung by jellyfish. But Lucien is full of surprises.