Chapter 16 A Ridiculous Bikini
A RIDICULOUS BIKINI
Most-desired superpower?
Cole: Flight. Then Bridget and I wouldn’t have to rely on the airlines.
Bridget: Ooh, that’s a good one! I’ll pick super speed because then I could get more work done faster.
COLE
Bridget O’Brien’s bikini was ridiculous.
It was blue, like her eyes. Blue like the woven vinyl cushions of the loungers we’d settled into at the hotel pool. The bottom was modest, with low-cut leg openings, and the waist rose high, almost to her navel. So there were no more glimpses of her lower butt cheeks.
The top was the ridiculous part. It was a single ruffle.
No straps. What was underneath? Was it a spandex wrap?
Or only her bare breasts? I’d been praying all morning for a gust of wind to lift the ruffle and prove it one way or the other, but so far, no luck.
It was a sunny, windless day, and the ruffle stayed firmly in place over the low swell of her tits.
She turned her face away from me, then back, and lifted her sunglasses. “What are you staring at?”
Shit, I’d been caught. Thank everything holy, I was wearing sunglasses and she couldn’t see what I was actually obsessed with. “I thought I saw a scarlet macaw behind you,” I lied.
“Really?” She turned to peer at the line of nearby trees for almost a minute. With a level of fortitude I didn’t know I had, I didn’t take the opportunity to stare unimpeded at her breasts. “I don’t see it.”
“It’s in that coconut palm. I’ll let you know if it comes out.”
“Thanks. I still can’t get over the fact that birds I’ve only ever seen at the zoo live here.”
“Costa Rica is an amazing place.”
She could’ve reminded me she’d been the one to bring us all here and prove how cost-efficient and valuable the office was, but she didn’t. Instead, she said, “Strange Thanksgiving, huh?”
“Not the strangest, but…unexpected.” I’d definitely never have bet on spending the holiday bewitched by my rival.
“Really? This isn’t your most bizarre Thanksgiving?”
“No. That prize goes to the Thanksgiving my father took my brother and me to a shooting range and wouldn’t let us leave until we’d shot a full round inside the bullseye.
I was twelve, and Mason was fifteen. We were there for four hours.
By the time we left, my hands were numb.
” I’d wanted to cry too, but you couldn’t do that in front of my father.
“That’s tragic, Cole.”
I shrugged. “Training and competition are the norm for us Campions. What are you missing today?”
“My parents host dinner for my four sisters, their families, and me.”
“Fucking hell. There’s five of you?” When I imagined a lineup of five Bridgets in ridiculous, ruffled bikinis, and all trying to boss me, my head threatened to fly off into the cloudless sky.
“We’re all different. I’m the oldest, and the only one who went corporate. One’s a teacher, one’s a librarian, one’s a nurse, and the youngest is a paramedic. The three middle ones are married, and two of them have kids. One’s getting divorced, though.” She bit her lip.
I’d rather not hear Bridget’s judgment on divorce, my most regrettable failure. “I’m sure they’re all very intense, regardless of marital status and profession.”
“We’re all passionate about something,” she agreed, “whether it be our families or our careers.”
“And what’s Thanksgiving like? Do you compete over who makes the best pumpkin pie?”
“No, I’m the only competitive one, but never with my sisters.”
“I find that hard to believe.” She’d been a thorn in my side since the day I’d met her. Though the funny thing was, I’d hardly thought about how I planned to win the CEO role since the second day of the retreat.
She glanced up and pulled out a floppy hat.
She settled it onto her head, the brim shading her face.
“It was more important for us to stick together. We went through some hard times.” She stared out over the pool toward the resort as if she were remembering those hard times.
“But everyone’s fine now. Mostly.” She flashed me a hard smile.
“Mostly?”
She grimaced. “My sister who’s getting divorced is also pregnant. Yikes, right? I’m so glad I never had kids.” But the wistful tone of her voice betrayed her. “Aren’t you?”
I wasn’t ready to talk about Cait or my divorce. Not with Bridget. So I deflected. “You did pretty well for yourself. You went to Berkeley, right?”
“Yeah. You were Harvard.”
“All the Campions were, back to my great-grandfather.” I held up my bottle of Imperial in a toast, then drank to the old asshole.
“Wow. That’s a lot to live up to.”
“I…I guess. I’ve never thought about it like that. We were expected to do it, you know?” High achievement was an excellent way to control your destiny. It seemed routine in the private schools and private clubs I grew up in. I hadn’t questioned it until I met Zara.
“Hmm.” She leaned forward and rested her chin on her knees. “I don’t really know what that’s like, but I suppose I can imagine it.”
“I’ll introduce you to my brother Mason sometime,” I said. “He’s a CEO, and his office isn’t too far from ours. We sometimes meet up after work. You could join us.” Shit, why had I said that? She didn’t need to meet my brother. I didn’t want to let her into my private life. Did I?
Her expression went wary. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Fuck it, I did want to let her in. “Why not? It’s just drinks with my brother. We’re having drinks right now.” I lifted my beer bottle. “And I’ve seen way more of your skin than I ever expected on this trip. Speaking of which, you’d better reapply your sunscreen.” I waved at her exposed stomach.
Her eyes narrowed. “You’re probably right.
” She plucked the bottle from her bag and poured it into her hand.
I closed my eyes and tilted my face up toward the sun to avoid being a creeper who watched my coworker lotion her skin.
My hands itched to take the bottle from her so I could rub it into her shoulders and her nape, feel the cream slide against her smooth skin.
I balled them into fists. Although I’d been certain she’d been about to kiss me in her hotel room that day and later that night in the hot springs, she’d been giving off keep-away vibes since 4:30 yesterday when the embassy turned us away and we’d taken a car to this hotel at the beach.
She’d jammed her big carry-on bag into the seat between us like a Jersey barrier.
I wanted to ask her what was different, but was that wise?
She’d probably realized it was a huge mistake to kiss your co-CEO, with whom you were competing for the role, even if we were mature enough to see it as a purely physical connection that would last only until we touched down at SFO and became rivals again.
Too bad I hadn’t gotten that message. Spending time in paradise with Bridget had reactivated the attraction from the first day I’d met her, like I’d never shoved that glowing ember deep inside myself and buried it under a thousand sneers and thinly veiled insults.
Even after I jerked off in the shower, I’d lain awake for too long, thinking about what Bridget looked like under her clothes and imagining how she tasted, how her skin would feel under my palms. What her weight might feel like on my lap if she straddled me and rode my cock.
I bolted upright so she wouldn’t see the hard-on developing in my board shorts. “I’m going to take a swim.” Without waiting for her response, I strode to the side of the pool and leaped into the cool water. It not only calmed my erection but also clarified my thoughts.
If we went back home without talking about what had nearly happened between us, what I still wanted to happen, I’d be too distracted to do my job.
We had to face this head-on. Tonight.