Chapter 32
THIRTY-TWO
DALTON
I’m sitting in my beach chair sipping a chilled beer, surrounded by Hudson and Sanders, when I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket.
Pulling it out of my swim trunks, I see Savanna’s name flash across the screen.
My heart rate ticks up, just like it always does when she texts me.
Sliding her message open, I’m met with her perfect body staring back at me through the screen.
Shit.
Savanna is kneeling in front of her mirror, clad in a white bikini—the same one that used to drive me insane as a teenager.
Her blonde hair is let down in loose waves, barely covering her breasts that are spilling out of the top.
I study the body that I had pinned beneath me most of yesterday afternoon, eyes tracing her lips that are painted in a light, pale pink.
Jesus.
Adjusting my shorts, I sneak a glance at Hudson and Sanders sitting across from me. I can not get a hard-on while in front of two dudes—especially when the reason for my rising situation’s brother is three feet away from me.
I immediately save this picture of Savanna on my phone when another message comes through.
Savanna: Do you approve?
I grunt, fingers flying across the screen.
To fuck you in? Yes. To wear to the bonfire? Absolutely fucking not.
I tap my finger on my knee, waiting for her next message.
Savanna: Too bad. Already dressed. See you soon.
Rubbing the back of my neck, a heavy sigh leaves my chest.
Fucking trouble.
Grunting, I pocket my phone while taking a drink of my beer. Since the conversation with my mom last night at dinner, I’ve been on edge. Between making love to Savanna’s perfect body again and the looming deadline of my reenlistment, it's fair to say I can’t think straight.
All I know is that I'm watching the seven days I have left on the island tick down like a complex bomb I’m usually an expert at detonating.
Except this bomb? I might just watch it explode.
“Everything good?” Hudson asks, tipping his head toward the phone I just pocketed.
“Yup.” My tone comes out sharp, knee bouncing in anticipation of seeing Savanna.
Are we going to act as if nothing happened?
Is she going to ignore me in front of her brother?
Hudson lifts a brow, sensing my mood shift. “So...” he starts, leaning forward in his beach chair, elbows resting on his knees to face me head-on. “I guess we can talk about the elephant in the room.” He pauses, then chuckles. “Or the elephant at this beach.”
My face pales, and the hand I was twisting my beer with freezes in my lap. I look behind my shoulder, searching for this elephant. But I'm pretty sure I know exactly what he’s talking about.
Hudson scoffs. “It’s fucking you, Dalton. You’re the goddamn elephant.”
Sanders' eyes widen as he barks out a laugh from his beach chair.
I knew it—that drive from Savanna’s to my mom’s yesterday was suspiciously quiet.
I point to myself. “Me? I’m the elephant?” I ask Hudson, trying to buy myself a few more seconds—until I have to admit to him that I’ve been obsessed with his sister for most of my life.
Hudson snorts like I’ve taken him for an idiot. “The elephant is actually me catching you sleeping over at my sister’s house yesterday morning.” His smirk glows across the bonfire.
Sanders throws his head back against his chair in a throaty laugh. “Well, shit, Dalton. I guess that big ole military brain of yours is fucking smart.”
Hudson giggles like a schoolgirl beside him, bumping his fist, getting a kick out of watching me squirm.
These fucking guys.
“I guess so,” I mumble under my breath, staring down at the sand.
Hudson regains his composure, his laugh dying down. “So, what are your intentions?”
Casting my eyes downward, I begin to peel the wet label off my beer with my fingernail. My intentions? I didn’t even know having intentions with Savanna was a fucking option until two weeks ago.
For six years, I thought she was off-limits.
But if there’s one thing I know now after my confession to my mom, and the word love spilling out of my mouth—it’s that my intentions are to make her mine, permanently.
When I take too long to respond, Hudson snaps his fingers at me. “Intentions, Dalton. Let me hear them.”
Shit, he’s serious.
What if I fuck this up?
“Well...” I stammer. “My intentions are good...obviously.”
Hudson rolls his eyes, then motions with his hands for me to continue. “And...”
“And?”
“Jesus Christ, Dalton,” Hudson quips. “Are you guys like a thing now?”
My leg stills in the sand, mind turning over Hudson’s question.
Savanna and I are a thing, right?
I decide to tell Hudson the truth: “It’s complicated,” I mumble.
Hudson whips his head to Sanders while pointing at me. “Did you hear that? This guy over here is really using the it’s complicated bullshit for my little sister.”
Sanders hums in agreement, shaking his head. “So I heard.”
“Fuck that,” Hudson scoffs, clearly peeved with my answer. “Try again, because that’s my sister you're talking about. She has Drew now. She doesn’t need any of your it’s complicated bullshit, throwing a wrench into their already messed-up situation.”
Ouch.
Sanders nods, tipping his beer toward Hudson. “Yup. What he said.”
My mouth goes dry as I readjust in my beach chair. “Shit, man. You’re right.” I clear my throat. “I think we are a thing.” I pause, finally revealing the truth out loud. “I want us to be a thing.”
Hudson’s eyes study me over the flames. “And the reason you’re not?” He frowns.
Raking my fingers through my hair, I turn, hiding my twisted face as I look out at the waves crashing ashore. “Well, I leave in a week.” I pause, swiveling my attention back to Hudson. “And I’m supposed to sign my reenlistment for another four years.”
Hudson and Sanders go silent as they watch me.
The silence is broken when Hudson throws his head back in a laugh. “So?” he says, taking a swig of his beer.
My eyes narrow on him. “So?”
“So, I don’t fucking buy it. You guys had a thing for each other since we were kids.” He pauses, giving me a dramatic eyeroll. “Don’t think we didn’t notice, dipshit.”
Sanders bobs his head, snickering into the neck of his beer bottle. “Shit, half the time I flirt with her just to get a damn rise out of you.” I watch his lips twitch into a smile.
Gripping my beach chair, I shot him a look, blood suddenly boiling at his confession.
Yeah, I don’t like anyone flirting with Savanna—especially Sanders.
“The real question is…” Hudson’s voice booms over the fire. “Do you think you can handle Savanna having a daughter?”
I rear my head back, forehead pinching together. “Can I handle Drew?”
Hudson nods, his eyes wide, waiting for my answer.
“You’re fucking joking, right?” My tone turns sour. I can’t even believe my best friend would have to raise that question.
“They’re a package deal, man.” His voice comes out in warning, the flicker in his eyes matching the fire between us.
I sit up in my chair, puffing out my chest. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for that little girl.”
Hudson’s eyes are fixed, studying me with an intensity. When he sees it in my face that I’m telling the truth—that I would, in fact, do anything for Drew, a relieved look washes over his face. His body sags back into his chair.
Our standoff is over.
“Good, man. Then I’m happy for you. But I will personally kick your ass all the way to whatever fucking country you just came from if you hurt them.”
I chuckle lightly, shaking my head. “Deal.”
My body caves into my seat. A years-long weight lifting off my chest at Hudson’s semi-blessing. Getting comfortable, I tilt my head back against the headrest. My eyes begin to count the Georgia stars, the same stars that rarely make it through the San Diego skyline.
“Oh, by the way...” My head snaps to Sanders. “I’m not sure if this is a bad time to mention this. But my associate attorney, Chad, tried to slip his number to Savanna during lunch at Salty’s earlier,” he says, snickering.
Well, my stargazing moment is officially fucking ruined.
I’m pretty sure his intention is to get a rise out of me after the conversation we just had. Well, kudos to him. It’s working.
“But!” Sanders smirks, a hint of mischievousness in his expression. “Have you know, your girl shut him down pretty damn quick.” He winks.
Clenching my jaw, I grip the neck of my glass bottle. I take a deep swallow of beer. My spine stiffens against the metal frame of my chair, thinking about all the guys that will be trying to date her when I leave—all the phone numbers that will be thrown her way.
Would Savanna do long distance?
Fuck. I need to figure this out.
Like tonight.
“Yeah, that won’t work, Savanna’s mine,” I say the words before I even realize they’ve left my mouth.
“Fuck. Finally!” They both say in unison.
“Now we get an actual answer out of you,” Hudson teases, kicking sand my way with his bare foot.
Sanders laughs, his eyes landing on a figure coming over the dunes. “Well, well, well, speak of the devil…”
My eyes find Chad walking toward us. He’s wearing khaki shorts with a rolled-up linen shirt and boat shoes, like he just stepped off a yacht.
I can feel a vein throbbing in my neck as I watch him come closer, my body tensing.
This isn’t Savanna’s type, right?
Sanders senses my rigid posture and leans in, giving me a warning. “Oh, and just so you know, buddy, for full transparency, if you decide to kick his ass, he is an attorney and will sue the shit out of you.”
My nostrils flare, and I shoot him a glare.
“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger,” Sanders says, throwing his hands up in defense. “Just giving you some legal advice.” He snickers.
“Well, it’s a good thing you're not my goddamn lawyer,” I snarl.
My eyes follow Chad as he takes the empty chair across from me.
Great.
I need to make sure everyone knows Savanna is off-limits.