Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Kate
Something is up with Tucker. He claims it has nothing to do with last night, and he’s fine, but there’s a tension in him that wasn’t there yesterday. I can’t quite put my finger on the cause. If it isn’t about my behavior at Miguel’s last night…
I don’t know what it is.
I watch him as he loads the bag of sand tools Penny and Logan provided us in the back of my golf cart. He looks delicious in board shorts and a t-shirt, and I find myself wanting to run my palms over his bare arms and legs to see how soft the dark hair sprinkled across his limbs feels against them. The thought makes me feel ridiculous, and I shake my head to clear it as I climb in behind the wheel and wait for Tucker to join me.
Once he’s seated, I head toward the western side of the island. Shaylene Hannig, the mayor of Bush Monkey Isle, owns a house there and has agreed to allow us the use of her private beach for today’s activities. The stretch of soft, white sand is enclosed on both sides by rock formations, so the six of us will be completely isolated. It’s nice because we won’t have to deal with tourists, kids, or townsfolk trying to get a sneak peek of our masterpieces before they’re finished.
The three golf carts pull into the driveway in a line, and we park and unload our bags before taking the small path around the side of the large house that leads down to the beach. We spread out, giving each other plenty of room, and dump our tools and buckets onto the sand.
I pull a spray bottle of sunscreen from my bag and mist it over my body before rubbing it in. I think I feel Tucker’s gaze following my every move, but I can’t tell for sure because his eyes are hidden behind a pair of dark sunglasses.
When I finish, I hold the bottle in his direction, asking, “Can you please spray my back?”
He hesitates, but before I can rescind the request, he takes the bottle from my outstretched hand and motions for me to spin around. I flinch as the cool spray hits my already sun-heated skin, then flinch again when a large, warm palm touches my shoulder, rubbing the sunscreen in.
My heartrate picks up as I try to control my breathing. Tucker’s light touch is making me feel things I don’t recognize. He finishes up quickly, and when I turn back around, he’s holding the bottle in my direction. I take it, then cock my head.
“Do you want me to do you?” I ask.
His lips twitch at that, but I don’t have time to regret my choice of words because he’s whipping his t-shirt over his head and spinning to give me his broad, muscled back.
Holy shit. Get it together, Kate.
I spray a healthy amount of sunscreen over his skin, then drop the can to press both palms to his back. His muscles tick beneath my fingers as I rub the stuff in, making sure to cover every inch. Tucker remains completely still until I finish, then turns around with a word of quiet thanks before twisting to look at our chosen workspace.
“Any ideas for the structure?” he asks, like me having my hands all over him didn’t affect him in the least.
“We can make it up as we go,” I say, striving for an unaffected tone of my own.
If it’s no big deal to him, it’s no big deal to me. Or, at least, I’m determined to act like it isn’t.
I drop to my knees and pick up a shovel. I start to dig and pile up some sand to start building with, and Tucker grabs a bucket and heads down to the water to scoop some up and bring it back.
As we get to work, whatever tension there was between us fades away. It becomes immediately obvious neither of us knows much about building sandcastles. We can’t stop laughing as every structure we try to build collapses on itself.
“Holy shit,” I say when I look over in Sam and Blaine’s direction.
They’re already making some decent progress with a foundation. It’s completely flat on the top, and Blaine is beveling the edges of it with the flat edge of a plastic shovel.
“We’re screwed,” Tucker says, laughter evident in his voice.
“It ain’t over til it’s over,” I reply, holding up my palm for a high five. “Let’s do this.”
Tucker shakes his head, but smacks his palm against mine despite his obvious doubts. We’re working hard on our lumpy mound of sand, patting it with wet hands to form it as best we can. As the sun rises higher in the sky, I can feel beads of sweat dripping down my face, chest, and back.
“I need to cool off,” I say finally, pushing myself up to my feet. “I’m going to go for a quick swim.”
“I’ll come with you,” Tucker says, dropping the spade he was holding.
“Last one in buys the other a beer tonight!” I shout, my legs already pumping as I dash toward the waves.
Tucker bellows as my laughter trails over my shoulder, and I push harder when I hear his footsteps pounding a little too closely behind me. It’s no use, though. He passes me before we even reach the halfway mark, and it’s all I can do to keep up. He splashes into the Pacific with a shout of victory, then turns around to pump a fist in the air.
“You cheated,” I gripe as I slow to a stop next to him.
“Me? You’re the one who issued the challenge after you started running.”
“Lies,” I say with a flair of drama as I wade out into waist-deep water.
The chilly water sends chill bumps racing across my skin, but I repeat the words “it’s refreshing” over and over in my mind to trick myself into thinking it’s not really that cold. Taking a deep breath, I submerge myself, completely, then doggy-paddle out into deeper water.
I shriek as long fingers close around one of my ankles. Jerking my foot free, I spin around to find Tucker standing chest-deep right behind me, a wide grin on his face. Narrowing my eyes, I take another deep breath before diving downward. It only takes me a moment to find his feet, and I quickly hook both hands behind his ankles and jerk them forward at the same time.
The water churns as Tucker joins me below the surf, and his fingers swipe against the skin of my back as I quickly turn and swim out of his reach. I must’ve gotten turned around, though, because when I come up for air, I’m closer to the shore…and Tucker has somehow managed to stay right with me. Letting out a mighty growl, he wraps his arms around me and does something I’ve never had done to me in my entire adult life.
He picks me up.
And not only does he pick me up, he lifts me out of the water completely. The next thing I know, I’m screeching as I’m flung through the air. I hit the water with a splash, sinking to the bottom before getting my feet underneath me and using my legs to drive myself back up to the surface.
I blink the water out of my eyes and spin in a circle as I search for Tucker. I find him several feet away, his head thrown back as he laughs.
Holy shit .
Am I dreaming, or did he pick me up and toss me through the air? He doesn’t even look winded.
I may not be a whale like that douche Alex called me at the Grill, but I’m no tiny ballerina, either. At five-foot-eight and well over two-hundred pounds, I shouldn’t be that easy to throw around. I’m positively shocked.
Tucker stops laughing, and his face grows serious as he approaches me slowly. “Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
I shake my head as I slowly back up, moving deeper into the water. He follows me, his expression filled with concern. I stop when I hit chest-deep water, but Tucker keeps coming, determined to make sure I’m really okay.
I bend my knees slightly in preparation, keeping my expression blank to play off his concern. As soon as he’s close enough, I push myself upward with a battle cry. Planting my hands on his shoulders, I push down, attempting to dunk him, but he’s an unmovable statue. His arms circle around me, pulling me so close my body slides against his as gravity does its thing.
And he doesn’t release me when my feet hit the ocean floor. He holds me, searching my gaze before his stare drops to my mouth. Not daring to breathe, I wait to see what he’ll do. He has that same expression he wore at the Grill the other night, before I ran to the bathroom and everything went to hell.
Like he wants to see what my lips taste like.
Then he seems to come back to his senses, releasing me before taking a step back and saying, “We should, uh, get back. That sandcastle isn’t going to build itself. ”
“Right,” I say, moving past him to wade back to shore.
We work silently, at first, but gradually, the awkwardness fades, and soon we’re laughing at our own lame attempts to make the pile of sand look like a structure of some kind. Blaine and Sam’s castle really starts to take form, their attention to detail so fine, I know there’s no chance in hell we’re going to win this thing. A glance at Penny and Logan proves they’re not doing much better than we are, and when I point it out to Tucker, he chuckles.
An hour later, we break for lunch. A few of my employees from the Grill deliver cheeseburgers, fries, onion rings, and drinks, setting up a couple of large picnic blankets and oversized umbrellas on the grassy lawn behind the mayor’s house so we don’t have to deal with sand in our food.
Grabbing Penny’s hand, I drag her toward the outdoor bathroom we were given permission to use, calling out to the others that we’re going to wash up. As soon as we’re closeted in the space, I turn to Penny with wide eyes.
“What?” she asks. “What is it?”
Keeping my voice at a whisper in case anyone is standing outside, waiting their turn, I say, “He picked me up, Penny.”
“What?” she repeats, her expression filling with confusion.
I shake my head. “Tucker. He picked me up while we were playing in the water. And not only that. He tossed me through the air.”
Her confusion clears, and she takes my hand, immediately understanding the problem. “Sure. He’s strong and manly and everything a woman could possibly desire, physically. But remember, he’s the ‘love them and leave them’ type, and that’s not what you want or need .”
“Isn’t it?” I ask, only half-kidding. At Penny’s stern glare, I let out a long sigh. “Fine. You’re right. Best man, bad . Hands off.”
“Good girl,” she says, squeezing my hands before dropping them. “Now, let’s go eat before Blaine chases everyone off with her sparkling personality.”
A giggle bursts out of me, and I slap a hand across my mouth before dropping it to say, “That was mean, Penny Jones. She’ll soon be your sister.”
“Don’t remind me,” she groans, then shakes her head. “No. You’re right. I’m sure she’ll grow on me, eventually.”
I have to stifle a laugh at that. We’ve known Blaine for twenty years, and if she hasn’t grown on us yet, I don’t see much hope for the future.
We wash up and head back out to the picnic lunch. Everyone takes turns in the bathroom, and when Tucker returns, he plops down onto the blanket right next to me, sharing my shady spot. I try to act normal, but my mind won’t stop replaying the feel of his strong hands picking me up and tossing me around. And it won’t stop conjuring the image of him doing the same thing in a much different, much more private setting.
I may not have experience to draw from for the fantasy, but my imagination knows no bounds.
“Hey,” the man in question whispers, leaning in close. “I’m sorry if I was too rough with you out there in the water. I wasn’t thinking.”
Rough? Rough is good. Shit. Stop it, Kate.
“You weren’t,” I assure him, flinching when my voice squeaks. Clearing my throat, I try again. “You weren’t. I promise. I was just surprised and got a bit waterlogged.”
“Are you sure?” he asks.
“I’m sure,” I say, offering him a smile.
He seems to accept that, and we finish our meal in pleasant silence, listening to the others chat and joke around. We spend a few more hours on the beach, working on our creations. Ours ends up looking like some primitive mud hut that has zero chance of winning anything. Penny and Logan can’t stop kissing and touching each other long enough to put in a real effort, so theirs isn’t much better.
But Blaine and Sam’s? Their castle is damn magnificent. Sam’s attention to detail is on another level, and even though Blaine has spent more time barking orders than she has actually helping, he doesn’t seem to mind. The man is a saint.
Tucker and I decide we’re finished, followed closely by Penny and Logan, so the four of us head out to play in the water. Sam and Blaine finish shortly after, joining us in the sea until we’re all tired. We head back to the picnic blankets to sit in the shade until our judges arrive to inspect our creations.
Twenty minutes later, the townsfolk Penny enlisted to serve as judges declare Sam and Blaine the winners, to exactly no one’s surprise. Penny smiles as she pulls a shiny trophy from her bag and presents it to them. It’s gold and is topped with a sand pail and shovel, and Blaine snatches it from her and holds it up like she won gold at the Olympics, or something.
We say our goodbyes, agreeing to meet back up at Penny and Logan’s at seven for dinner. Tucker keeps the conversation going as I drive him back to their house to pick up Miss Ginny’s golf cart, then smiles and tells me he’ll see me in a bit before sauntering over to it.
I watch him go, that smile burned into my brain along with the memory of his strong hands on me, then startle out of it when his golf cart buzzes, indicating he’s put it in reverse.
And I’m blocking his way out.
I quickly snap my own cart into reverse to get out of the way. After backing down the drive, I push the button to put it back into forward mode, then slam my foot down on the gas pedal. The cart will only go fifteen miles per hour––maybe a bit faster on a downhill slope––and it takes me several moments to get far enough away from Tucker that I feel safe looking back.
And when I do, I find his gaze on me. He lifts a hand and waves. I wave back before snapping back around and taking the turn that will lead to my house.
Sheesh. I am out of control.
And before I meet up with him again at dinner, I need to get myself together.