Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
As the sun begins to set over Cape Cod, our car service pulls to a stop at our destination. The Davenports’ beach house stands tall in front of us, its white walls and navy-blue shutters a stark contrast against the vibrant green lawn. After a long day of traveling, my exhaustion slowly melts away as we file out of the SUV.
“Welcome to our home for the next few days,” I say with a smile, gesturing toward the picturesque house.
“This is nice,” Esme exclaims, a smile spreading across her face with childlike glee as she rushes toward the house while the rest of us gather our bags from the trunk.
“I think you’re forgetting something.” I chuckle, lugging my duffle over my shoulder.
“Leave the rest of your bags.” Victor pulls mine from my shoulder. “I’ll get them.”
“Thank you.” Warmth rushes through me at his kind gesture.
“No problem.” A soft smile tugs at his lips.
“The weather is perfect here.” Liv hooks her arm through mine and leads me away from the car.
The ocean breeze carries the sound of crashing waves and seagulls overhead. “I never realize how oppressive Houston summers are until I visit a place like this,” I say as I fish for the keys in my purse that Ian gave me a few days ago.
“Tell me about it,” Esme says, peeking through one of the porch windows.
I unlock the door with a satisfying click and disarm the alarm. Liv and Esme waste no time scoping out our new digs. Meanwhile, Victor and Smith drag all our luggage inside, then head straight for the kitchen island, clearly more interested in the gift basket of snacks than the decor. “Someone left a note,” Victor mumbles between shoving cookies into his mouth. I make a grab for it, but Victor beats me to it. “Looks like it’s from your future mother-in-law.”
Smith interrupts our playful banter by proudly displaying two six-packs of beer he found in the fridge. “Beer!”
Taking advantage of Victor’s distraction, I snatch the note from his hand. I’m able to dodge him before he reaches for me—or the note, rather—but I accidentally bump into Liv, who catches me by the shoulders. “Sorry.” I grin sheepishly.
Liv laughs. “You good, girl?”
“I’m fine. Victor plays too much.” I stick my tongue out at him. His eyes narrow, the corners of his mouth twitching upward as he tries to suppress a smile.
“One of the bedrooms upstairs has floor-to-ceiling windows. I call dibs.” Esme joins us in the kitchen, wrapping her arms around Victor’s waist. I look away from them to the handwritten note from Anita Davenport that tells us to make ourselves at home. From the last time Ian and I stayed here, I know she keeps a stack of these handwritten notes around for the cleaning staff to leave out for guests.
“I’m pretty sure that’s going to be Skylar and Ian’s room,” Liv says.
“You would be right.” Snagging a beer from Smith, I take a sip of the ice-cold brew.
“Where are you sleeping, Liv?” he asks, popping the top on his beer.
“It doesn’t matter. The other two bedrooms are just as nice, just smaller.”
Esme reaches up on her tiptoes and wraps her arms around Victor’s neck. “I’m sure Liv will let you share her bed. It’s big enough.”
Smith arches one eyebrow, a hint of mischief in his eyes. Liv tilts her head back slightly, her eyes sweeping dramatically skyward before settling back on Smith with a barely concealed smirk.
“Not a chance,” she answers for them.
Liv immediately claims the bedroom across the hall from mine. It’s called the blue room because of its accents—deep navy curtains and a plush, ocean-inspired rug. Esme and Victor follow suit, taking the seafoam-green room next door to Liv’s. Both rooms are spacious, boasting fireplaces and small patios. My room, the largest in the house, lives up to Esme’s description. Soft sandy tones complement the sweeping ocean vista, while a large balcony extends the living space into the open air.
After settling into our rooms, we gather at the kitchen island for a round of cold beers and to discuss what we’re getting into for the night. Esme and Victor want to barhop. Liv wants to have a bonfire on the beach. Smith wants to do whatever Liv intends to do. Everyone is booed up except for me. “I’ll probably just hang back here. Maybe crack open a new book.”
Victor cocks his head to the side, giving me a curious look. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I’m getting tired anyway.”
“You didn’t come all this way to stay home by yourself,” he says. “Come out with us.”
I need Victor to read the room. Esme’s silent plea is as clear as day—she doesn’t want me tagging along.
“You should come out with us,” Liv offers.
Smith is quiet on the matter until Liv nudges his arm. “Yeah. Come out with us. It’ll be fun.”
I give a halfhearted yawn. “No, really. I’m tired.”
Judging by Victor’s skeptical look, he’s not buying what I’m trying to sell.
“All right, girl. Have fun doing you. I need to get dressed.” Esme’s playful tone borders on insistence as she tugs Victor’s hand for him to follow her out of the kitchen. But when he doesn’t move fast enough, she yanks his arm harder. “Babe. I need you to help me find something to wear. Something with easy access in case we want to have a quickie while we’re out. You know, like those other times.”
Before I can help myself, I roll my eyes.
“Smith,” Liv calls out like a drill sergeant, watching me. You caught that . Great.
“What’s up?” he says after crushing his empty can.
“I need a minute with Skylar.”
“Where am I supposed to go? I don’t have a bedroom.”
Liv huffs out a breath, frustration edging her voice. “Fine. Go to my room.”
His grin appears, quick and wolfish. “I thought you’d never ask.”
“I didn’t,” she retorts.
As he passes by on his way out, Smith makes a show of tossing his empty beer can into the recycle bin. “Oh, you will.”
She rolls her eyes. “Don’t let me do anything stupid with that man.”
“Admit it. You like him.”
She waves her hand dismissively. “Whatever. That’s not what I want to talk to you about.”
Hard as I try, I can’t lighten her mood. “Okay. What about?”
Her voice drops to a whisper, laced with accusation, her eyes narrowing as if she’s trying to read the truth in the lines of my face. “What are you doing?”
It feels like the air has been sucked out of the room, and I know this conversation is about to take a turn I’m not ready for. “Umm. What do you mean?”
“Bitch. Don’t play with me.”
The mask falls away; I can’t hide from her piercing gaze. “It’s not what you think.”
She stands firm, hands on her hips, her words a sharp reality check. “I’m not sure if you’re lying to me or yourself. But what I do know is that you need to fall back.”
“We’re friends. That’s it.”
“He’s not supposed to be your friend. Not when he’s Esme’s boyfriend. And hello, somebody. You have a whole fucking fiancé. Remember him? The man whose guest house we’re staying in? The man who will be here the day after tomorrow to be with you?”
Leaning against the counter, I sigh as the heaviness of the situation bears down on me. I rake my fingers through my hair, gripping the sides of my head. “I didn’t plan for this to happen.”
“I know you didn’t.” Her voice softens, a hint of sympathy among the stern words.
“Do you think she really loves him?” Or is she just using him for his money?
She exhales a measured breath, her caution heavy in the air. “I can’t say. But whether it’s love or they’re just bidding their time together until someone better comes along. Whether you stay with Ian or the two of you break up. Listen to me when I tell you this. Victor is off-limits to you.” Of course, she’s right. My brain knows that, but my heart is having a harder time accepting it. “You can’t ever have him because having him means you lose her, and no man is worth that.”