Chapter 18
“I can add ‘wrangling drunk Raiders’ to my resume.”
Sloane
I sigh as I plop down on the sofa in Zane’s living room. Boozer jumps up to lay next to me.
Harper sent me home early tonight since Rumrunner wasn’t busy.
December is a weird month for tourism on Smuggler’s Hideaway.
During the Mermaid Treasure Hunt, the weekend before Christmas, it’s busy, and at Christmas and New Year’s, it’s extremely busy.
But otherwise? Quiet as you’d expect an island outside the Summer vacation months to be.
The house is nice and quiet. Adele is with Zane’s mom since he’s playing poker with his brothers at Eli’s. Knowing the Raider brothers, there’s a good chance I get a call from the police asking me to pick him up.
“It’s you and me tonight, Boozer.” I pet my dog and switch on the television.
After five minutes of scrolling through channels, I realize it’s too quiet in the house. I miss the sound of Adele’s laughs. When she smiles, Zane’s entire face lights up with happiness. Does he realize how attached he is to his baby girl?
The door bangs open and I startle awake. Boozer barks and rushes to the front door.
“Shush, Boozer boy. Don’t wake my baby girl.”
Zane tries to pet the dog but he stumbles to the side and slams into the wall.
“Who put that there?”
I giggle. Someone’s been drinking.
His head whips up and he grins at me. “Sloane. You’re home.”
Hope tries to spark, but I squash it. Home? This isn’t home. This is Zane’s home. Not mine. I want a home, but I won’t steal his. Not when my welcome is contingent on being his nanny. When he doesn’t need me anymore? I swallow. I don’t want to think about it.
“How’s Adele?”
“I’m sure she’s fine.”
His brow wrinkles. “You don’t know?”
He tries to kick off his shoes but stumbles again and ends up on his ass. Boozer licks his face but he shoves my dog away. “Ew. Gross.”
Boozer thinks this is a game and dances around Zane, trying to kiss him while Zane bats him away. Or tries to. His arms are flailing and, if this is a game, Boozer’s winning.
I offer him a hand. “Need help?”
“Why would I?” He glances around. “Huh. I’m on the floor.”
“How much did you have to drink?”
“It’s not my fault,” he grumbles. “My asshole brothers insisted I drink a shot every time I mentioned Adele. Adele’s mine, you know.”
I pull him to his feet and he crashes into me. I brace my legs to keep from falling backward at his weight. It’s a good thing I have years of practice dealing with drunks because otherwise we’d be a pile of limbs on the floor.
“I know Adele’s yours.”
“No. No. No.” He shakes his head. “Adele is my baby. I’m her daddy.”
I nod. “I know.”
He shakes my shoulders. “You’re not listening. Adele is my baby. I’m her biolog…biologi…biological father.”
Warmth spreads through me. “You got the results of the paternity test?”
“Yeah.” He smiles and the two dimples on his left cheek make an appearance. The love he has for his daughter makes him gorgeous. Even drunk, with his face flushed and his hair matted to his head.
“Let’s go see my baby girl.”
He starts for the nursery but I stop him.
“Adele isn’t here.”
“Isn’t here?” he shouts. “Was she kidnapped? Did my asshole brothers steal her?”
“She’s at your mom’s, remember?”
“I have an idea,” he announces.
Please don’t say have sex, because there’s no way I can resist him at this moment. Not when his face is lit up with happiness that Adele is his biological daughter. A man who’s happy about a baby being his? It’s catnip to me.
“Let’s go get her.”
“You want to go to your mother’s to get your daughter?”
“My daughter.” He sighs. “Yeah.”
“You’re drunk.”
“I’ve only had a wee bit to drink.”
I laugh at his imitation of a Scottish accent. “A wee bit?”
“It’s what they say in Edinburgh when they’ve been drinking all night.”
“You’ve been to Edinburgh?”
Zane’s traveled a lot. He’s always jetting off somewhere for a new adventure. Canoeing on the Rio Grande, ziplining in Costa Rica, chasing gorillas in Uganda. Zane has seen and done it all.
I’m not jealous of the traveling. Growing up with a mother who couldn’t live longer than a year in one place cured me of any desire to travel. But the locations he visited? How I long to visit Edinburgh, London, Dublin, Amsterdam – if only I didn’t have to travel to get to those cities.
“A few times.” He shrugs and I nearly drop him since he can’t make any movement without stumbling.
“I want to hear all about it.”
“I’ll tell you and Adele all about it.” He scans the room. “Where is Adele?”
The forgetful drunk has entered the room. “She’s at your mom’s.”
“Let’s go get her.”
“You’re drunk.”
“So? I’m a smuggler.”
“Being a smuggler doesn’t mean you can drink and drive.”
Smuggler’s Hideaway is pretty lax on rules. Public nudity? Slap on the wrist. Playing loud music in the middle of the night? A stern talking to and a reminder to invite your neighbors next time. Not picking up after your dog? A day of community service cleaning the beach.
But drinking and driving is a whole different kettle of fish. It’s dangerous, and Smugglers don’t abide danger – especially when Sammy the seal enjoys sunbathing in the middle of the street.
“You can drive. You haven’t been drinking.”
“I haven’t?” I’m not lying. I’m merely leading him in the wrong direction.
“Damn.” His shoulders fall. “I miss my baby girl.”
He seriously needs to stop with the sweet dad routine or I’ll fall in love with him. And falling in love with Zane Raider will only lead to heartbreak.
Considering Zane and his brothers visit the bar regularly, I’d have to quit my job. And maybe leave the island. The only place I’ve ever felt at home.
Nope. It’s better to keep my hands to myself.
Zane slumps against me before letting out a snore. Great. He fell asleep in my arms.
“Come on, daddy. Let’s get you to bed.”
“I’m not tired,” he mumbles.
“We can watch television in bed.”
Since I can hear Zane’s television blaring sports in his room at all hours of the night and day, I figure this will get him moving. And I’m right. He shuffles toward the hallway.
I secure his arm around my shoulder and wrap my arm around his waist as I help him walk. Or, rather, I help him not slam into walls and doors.
By the time we reach his bedroom, I’m cursing how heavy he is. His broad shoulders may be pretty to look at, but they’re freaking heavy to keep steady.
“Here’s your bed.” I gently push him and he collapses.
My job here is done. “Good night.”
“Wait.” He shackles my wrist. “Watch television with me.”
I glance around the room. There’s a bed and a dresser in here. No chair for me to sit on. There’s only one place for me, but laying on the bed with Zane is a bad idea with disaster written all over it.
“I think I’ll go to bed.”
He slaps the bed next to him. “Guess what? I have a bed right here.”
“In my own bed. To sleep.”
“Come on.” He tugs on my wrist. “Just for a little while.”
“It’s not a good idea.”
“It’s an excellent idea,” he declares and pulls on my wrist until I land on the bed next to him.
Welp. I guess I’m watching television with Zane in his bed. That smells of him. I inhale his oaky musk scent and a little burst of excitement travels through me. I’d roll around in his scent if I could.
“What do you want to watch?”
His response? A snore.
I bite my tongue before I laugh and wake him up. I pry his hand away from my wrist before sliding toward the edge of the bed. I’m nearly there when Zane rolls over and throws an arm around me.
“Zane.” I try pushing his arm off me but he merely tightens his hold.
I keep trying but eventually give up. Guess I’m sleeping with Zane tonight.
I make myself as comfortable as possible, considering I have a fifty-pound arm draped over me. I’ll probably lay here half the night until Zane rolls over and frees me. But I close my eyes and fall asleep.