19. Lily
Chapter 19
Lily
I ’d only been to one bachelorette party before.
My own.
It had been a disaster. Elara wanted to organize it for me, but Vlad took over. He booked us a spa day, which sounded nice in theory, but he insisted on coming along.
Vlad turned what should have been a relaxing day into a nightmare. He complained about everything, from the temperature of the sauna to the scent of the massage oils. He even berated the staff for not treating him like a VIP. Instead of bonding with my friends, I spent the day trying to placate him, feeling more like his personal assistant than a bride-to-be.
As if that wasn’t enough, Vlad decided we should all go to a fancy restaurant afterward. He picked a place that was way out of our budget and then criticized everyone for not ordering the most expensive dishes—in spite of the fact that I was paying.
And then there was the stripper. Right in the middle of dessert, a skinny twenty-something came out and started miming all the words to Vlad’s greatest hits, while taking off all his clothes except for a hideous purple thong. Mary-Beth tossed her jacket over him, trying to cover up his modesty, while Elara checked with Cole if we could go back to his place for a girls-only night of romcoms and ice cream.
Before we left, Vlad drunkenly lectured us on how useless we were at having fun. And once we were at Elara’s, he almost certainly hooked up with the young waitress he’d been ogling all night.
Tonight, the moment I stepped onto the dock in the harbor at Bluehaven Bay, I heard cheesy pop music pumping from a party boat decorated with pink and blue balloons and a sign that read “Elara and Cole’s Last Hurrah.” It was clear that this joint bachelor/bachelorette party was going to be done right.
As I approached the boat, the salty sea breeze carried the scent of fruity cocktails and the sound of laughter. I smoothed my hands over the skimpy black cocktail dress clinging to my curves. All I could think about was Ethan’s husky promise to sneak away for a secret rendezvous, his blue eyes smoldering with barely restrained desire.
I wondered if we’d be able to manage it. The thought of being caught in the act by any of the party attendees was terrifying. He’d probably been joking. He had to have been joking.
I spotted Elara waving from the deck, her smile as bright as the twinkling lights strung along the boat’s railing. Cole stood beside her, looking both excited and slightly overwhelmed by the pink feather boa draped around his neck. Their joy was infectious, and I found myself grinning as I climbed aboard.
“Ahoy there, maties!” I said, saluting them.
“Welcome to the party boat!” Elara squealed, pulling me into a tight hug. “No complaining allowed, no budget restrictions, and absolutely no surprise strippers. Unless, of course, you want one. No purple thongs though, that’s a hard limit.” She stepped back and looked at me. “You look freaking amazing, by the way.”
“So do you!” I squealed in reply. She was wearing a tight turquoise maxi dress that hugged her baby bump perfectly. She’d definitely popped. She didn’t just look a little bit pregnant. She looked fully pregnant. And somehow, it looked hot on her.
“Second trimester, baby,” she said with a wink. Whispering in my ear she said, “I’m basically a sex machine right now.”
I laughed. “It’s a good thing you’re not drinking tonight. You’re already incorrigible.”
“I genuinely don’t think I’d be able to get married tomorrow if I was drinking tonight. Lucky for me, everyone is going to be hungover at my wedding except me. Which means I get to be a very smug bride.”
“You already are,” I teased with a wink.
“Watch it, Maid of Honor, or I won’t throw the bouquet anywhere near you.”
“Please don’t,” I quipped back. “I don’t want to get married. That bouquet is a poison chalice.”
There was already a small crowd on the deck of the boat. Jenna, the real estate agent, was here, laughing at something Ida said. And there was Jack McCoy, the elusive third triplet, fresh off his latest NFL victory with the Montreal Canadiens, his reddish-brown hair gleaming in the fading sunlight, cleft chin jutting arrogantly as always.
“Thanks for coming, Lils,” Cole said, before giving me a kiss on the cheek.
“Thank Susie and Patrick!” I replied. They were back from their jujitsu tour of South America, just in time to take Rhea, Lexi and Ava for a sleepover.
“Shame you didn’t get Jack to babysit.” That was Connie, who was giving Jack some serious stink-eye. Connie was wearing an immaculate nautical-themed outfit, with a blue and white off-the-shoulder top and smart white chinos. “He’s only been back five minutes and hasn’t stopped boasting about that win against the Ottawa Redblacks.”
“Who hasn’t stopped boasting?” asked Jenna, appearing beside us.
Connie shrugged sheepishly. “Nobody.”
“Hey, Lily,” said Jenna, her voice carrying over the pulsing music. “Good to see you. Sorry about your wedding, though.”
Jenna went to high school with me, Mary-Beth, and Elara. She was always just Elara’s friend—way too popular for the likes of me. Tonight, she was dressed to kill, wearing a low-cut red dress that clung to her like a second skin, making me feel almost frumpy in my carefully chosen black number.
I couldn’t help but notice that a couple of the guys—Cole’s friends I didn’t recognize—were having a pretty close look at Jenna. Their eyes followed her movements like magnets drawn to steel. I didn’t blame them; Jenna had always had that effect on people.
“Ah yeah, thanks,” I said, my tongue suddenly feeling too big for my mouth. “It’s no biggie. I mean, it was a biggie. But it’s not a biggie anymore.” I cringed inwardly. Jeez. Sometimes I went right back into high school mode, getting nervous around the “popular girls” and making a fool of myself. It was a good thing I never got like that around Elara.
Jenna’s perfectly shaped eyebrow arched slightly, a mix of amusement and something else—was that sympathy?—flashing across her face. “Well, I’m glad you’re here,” she said, her tone softening. “Elara’s been talking about this party for weeks. She really wanted you to have a good time.”
I felt a warmth spread through my chest at her words. Maybe Jenna wasn’t as unapproachable as I’d always imagined. Or maybe we’d both just grown up a little since high school.
“Thanks, Jenna,” I managed, this time without stumbling over my words. “I’m looking forward to it. You look amazing, by the way.”
She beamed at the compliment, and for a moment, I saw a glimpse of the insecure teenager beneath the polished exterior. “You too, Lily. Now, let’s get you a drink. I hear the bartender makes a mean cocktail that’ll make you forget all about biggie and non-biggie things alike.”
As we walked headed for the bar, I looked around for Ethan. There was no sign.
I felt a tap on my shoulder and got excited for a minute, but I turned around to see Cole.
“Don’t suppose you’ve seen my brother, have you?” Cole asked, stepping closer.
“Me?” My cheeks were suddenly warm. “Why would I have seen hi—”
“Because you’re Ava’s nanny and you live at his house?” Cole replied, quick as a snap. “Why? Is there some other reason?” He had a wicked smile on his lips.
“Nope. Those are good reasons. Sensible reasons.”
“Ah,” he said, his eyes drifting past me. “There he is.”
I turned to look. Yup. It was Ethan all right.
He. Looked. Hot.
I’d never really got Hawaiian shirts before. Always found them a little garish and over the top.
But Jesus Christ, did Ethan McCoy look insanely handsome in this one.
The shirt was a deep, rich navy blue, adorned with a subtle pattern of creamy white hibiscus flowers and sage-green palm fronds. The print was tasteful and understated, not the gaudy explosion of color I’d come to expect from shirts like this. The fabric looked soft and expensive, draped perfectly over Ethan’s broad shoulders and pulled taut across his muscular chest. The short sleeves clung to his biceps, emphasizing their definition in a way that made my pulse quicken. As he turned to survey the crowd, I couldn’t help but notice how the shirt tapered to his narrow waist, accentuating his athletic build. It was as if the shirt had been tailored specifically to showcase every one of Ethan’s best features.
“Drink . . . I need to get a drink,” I muttered, hoping the flush I felt creeping up my neck wasn’t visible. For some reason, though, I didn’t follow Jenna to the bar. I just stood there, staring.
“Evening, Cole,” Ethan said in that deep, gruff voice of his. “Sorry I’m late, bro. Took me hours to get my hair just right.”
“So, why did you mess it up after?” Cole joked.
“Funny. Hey, have you seen. . . .” He started to look around, but the moment he saw me, he stopped. We stared at each other.
One, two, three, four, five. . . .
“Well, looky here! It’s my firefighter brother!” Jack appeared, slapping Ethan on the back.
“Great to have you here, Jack.” Ethan replied warmly. He was talking to Jack. But he was looking at me. Not just looking. He was eating me up.
“Let’s not just stand here,” Cole said, clapping his hands together. “It’s drinks o’clock.”
The boys started making their way toward the bar, so I scurried over to Jenna, and she handed me a cocktail. It was red at the bottom of the glass and orange at the top and it tasted extremely boozy.
“Thought you’d done another runner,” she joked.
“Funny,” I replied. “But it’s way too soon for jokes like that.”
Jenna’s eyes widened. “Oh my god. I’m so—”
“It’s okay!” I replied. “I’m joking!”
Maybe I was one of the cool kids after all.
We headed back out to the deck and my cheeks were still burning from the sight of Ethan, so I welcomed the cooling sea breeze on my face. Plush, white leather couches adorned with colorful cushions lined the perimeter, and we sank into one with a sigh.
It wasn’t long before we set off from the dock. The plan was to have a leisurely trip to Goldharbor Bay, where the two parties would split for a couple of hours and spend time in two different bars. Then, we’d meet back on the boat for a trip back to Bluehaven Beach, and—as Elara seemed very excited to share—a floating disco.
Being on the ocean felt magic.
I hadn’t been on a boat for ages. The last time was a corny pirate-themed mini-cruise my mom had taken me on when I was a kid. It was a shame to live so near to the water but not get out on it much. At least Ethan had shown me that I could head into the water at any time of year. Well, maybe not winter. That would be too much bliss, even for me.
The party was soon in full swing, laughter and chatter mingling with the soft slosh of waves against the hull. I sipped champagne, bubbles fizzing pleasantly on my tongue as I chatted to Jenna, Elara, and Connie.
To my surprise, Connie wanted to talk exclusively about romance novels.
“Jaxon is actually such a cinnamon roll hero,” she said, drinking from her own glass. “Even though a billionaire, he’s still really humble.” She sighed. “That bit in the novel where he nurses Kapena—”
“Kapena?” Elara asked, eyebrows arched.
“She’s Polynesian,” Connie said. “And very cool. A champion paddle boarder.”
“What is paddle boarding?” I asked.
Connie grimaced. “I don’t actually know. It’s like, surfing? Maybe? Scout got excited when I told him about it.” Scout was Connie’s teenage son and a local hockey prodigy. “Thankfully not so excited that he wanted to read the book. It’s a little too steamy for a sixteen-year-old.”
I snorted a laugh. “I doubt that. Sixteen-year-olds know everything.”
“Scout is innocent as they come!”
“I’m sure,” I replied with a grin.
I got up to head to the bathroom and made my way across the gently rocking deck.
And right there, waiting to go in, was Ethan.
I stood next to him for a moment before he practically growled. “You smell like strawberries, Miss Lane.”
“I can’t help that,” I said, adjusting my dress while he gave me the dirtiest eyes I’d ever seen. “It’s just my natural scent.”
“I know it is,” he said, running his tongue across his lips. “I’m looking forward to catching up with you and that natural strawberry scent later.”
We’d spent the past few days apart, due to him training and me working at the store. I’d been desperately reading a bunch of bestselling horror novels, too, in a vain attempt to try to learn something about the genre before my interview with the agency. The main thing I’d learned so far was that I found horror novels scary. Like, really scary. Which, I guess, was a good thing?
“So, we’re . . . still gonna catch up?” My heart was pounding.
“Mmhmm. I don’t break my promises. Rules? Sometimes. Promises? Never.”
I looked around, making sure that nobody else was there, and then I leaned into him. His smell was intoxicating—spice and salt and a hint of smoke. His arm draped casually around my waist, fingertips tracing maddening circles on my hip. Every brush of his skin against mine sent shivers racing down my spine.
“You look so good tonight, Lily,” he said, his eyes burning. “You really think you could wear this little black dress and have me not want to . . . catch up with you?”
“I wore it on purpose,” I replied, suddenly breathing deeply.
“Naughty girl.”
I wanted to taste him so badly. I slid my arms down to his muscular buttocks. I felt my core tighten with lust.
“Later on, I’m going to obliterate you.” His voice was breathy, hoarse. “Everyone else is here to have fun. I’m just here to have you .”
For a moment, it felt as though he was going to lean in and kiss me. But, at the last minute, he pulled away and walked back toward the deck.
I stood by that bathroom for much longer than was reasonable, waiting for my pulse to come down.
After an hour or so at the boat, we docked at Goldharbor Bay.
The atmosphere was electric as we disembarked and split into two groups. The men headed to a whisky bar called Smoke and Sours, and us girls were off to a tiki bar on the beach. Despite the anticipation of what was in store for me later, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness as I watched Ethan walk off with his brother and friends, their laughter echoing in the twilight air.
“I haven’t been out like this in a long time,” Connie mused as we made our way to the tiki bar. “Sometimes, you can forget the way that other people live. There are probably people who come out like this every week.”
Connie wasn’t so much older than me—I think she was in her early thirties. But the fact that she had been a single mom for so many years meant that she must have lived a very different life to me.
“You feel like you’re missing out?”
She smiled, her eyes twinkling. “Maybe. How about you, do you get out much?”
“Nah. I’m more of a homebody. Although saying that, before I met Vlad, I was kinda dating a lot.”
“Exciting!”
“Exhausting.”
“You know, I’ve never really dated, as such. I had Scout when I was young and haven’t put myself out there since.”
“You should! Tinder makes everything easy.”
“It’s scary. I don’t know how to use it.”
“I can teach you. I’m very good at it. And you’re so pretty I could have people lining up for a date with you.”
“You think?”
“For sure. Although the pickings are a little slim around here. And you might end up with some of my old offcuts. Just don’t go for Vlad or anyone with ‘entrepreneur’ in their bio. Trust me on that. Oh, the same goes for guys with shirtless gym selfies as their main photos.”
We laughed together. “I’ll probably give it a miss. Maybe when Scout’s left home. If he ever leaves home.”
A few moments later, we arrived at the tiki bar. “The Coconut Cove,” proclaimed a hand-carved wooden sign, swinging gently in the balmy evening breeze.
“Whoop whoop!” shouted Elara, who—given that she wasn’t drinking—seemed drunk on life.
Thatched roofs and bamboo walls gave the place an authentic Polynesian feel, while colorful string lights twinkled overhead. The rhythmic sound of ukulele music drifted through the air, mingling with the crash of nearby waves.
Inside, the bar was a riot of colors and textures. Intricate tiki masks adorned the walls, their expressions ranging from comical to fierce. Plush wicker chairs with bright floral cushions surrounded low tables made from polished driftwood.
The bartenders, dressed in Hawaiian shirts and floral leis, worked behind a long bar topped with smooth, polished bamboo. Not one of the waiters looked even half as hot as Ethan did in his Hawaiian shirt.
“I feel like I’m about to bump into Kapena!” Connie said, her eyes taking in the sight.
Elara clapped her hands in delight. “I knew you’d all love it! Wait until you try the signature drink—the Blue Lagoon Breeze. It comes in a real coconut!”
As our group settled in, the bartender approached with a tray of welcome drinks—small glasses filled with a pale pink liquid and garnished with orchid blossoms.
“Ladies, welcome to The Coconut Cove,” he said with a warm smile.
Jenna whooped and said, “Let’s get the party started, shall we?”
***
I know it’s hard to say exactly what too much drink is, but by my second drink at The Coconut Cove, I definitely felt as though I was at least on the edge of too much.
The trouble was, Elara kept insisting that we play drinking games. Which is all well and good, but she wasn’t drinking. Which meant that she was a brutal taskmistress when it came to the pace.
After an hour or so, I decided I needed a break from alcohol, so I found myself alone with my best friend, while the rest of the girls wrestled their way to the bar. It didn’t take her long to get onto the subject she’d clearly been wanting to discuss all night long.
“You have secrets and I want to know them,” Elara demanded, grinning like the cat who got the cream. “What’s the deal with you and Tall, Dark, and Brooding? I saw you by the bathroom!”
“You did?” My cheeks burned. “I thought we were safe!”
“Honey, right now I need to go to the bathroom every five minutes, so believe me when I say you are never safe there.”
I bit my lip, fighting a silly grin. The drinks had loosened my tongue, and the words tumbled out in a giddy rush. “Oh, El, I’m in so deep. I can’t stop thinking about him. His smile, his laugh, the way he looks at me like I’m the only woman in the world. . . . I’m fighting so hard not to feel anything, but it’s so difficult.”
“So, just let yourself feel it!”
“We relaxed the rules.”
“What does relaxed mean?”
“It’s kind of complicated,” I sighed. “We’re forgetting some of them. Like, we’re allowed to go on dates and stuff, but we’re keeping others like, ‘No saying I love you.’”
“That is complicated. Don’t you just want to throw them all out?”
“I don’t know. I really don’t know. He doesn’t want anything more than a physical relationship.”
Elara scoffed. “Are you blind? That man looks at you like you hung the moon.”
“He’s attracted to me. I know that much.” I took a sip of water.
“What’s stopping you from just letting go?”
“It’s just so messy. Sometimes I worry that it’s just a rebound thing and that one day I’m going to wake up and realize that Ethan isn’t the person I think he is. Maybe I’m not seeing his flaws because I just want to feel something—anything—after what Vlad did to me.”
“That’s reasonable.”
“It is?”
“Sure.”
“Then there’s the age thing. You know, most of the time it’s fine, but there are times when I worry he sees me as kinda silly.”
“You are kinda silly.”
“Watch it.”
“It’s not because of your age. It’s because of who you are.”
“He has a kid. I’m his kid’s nanny. He’s paying me. And you know, I do worry that I’m not quite committing to the job in New York because I’m letting myself dream about what a life with Ethan would be like.”
“And in your dreams, what is that life like?”
I sighed as images flashed through my mind. Lazy Sundays spent together in the diner. Hugs with Ava at home. Me, reading in the corner of his garage while he bare-chestedly tinkered with an old, gorgeous car. Cold-water swimming and hot-blooded sex.
“Pretty good. Pretty damn good.”
“So, remind me, what’s stopping you?”
“If I tell him I want more, and he says he doesn’t, I might be left with nothing.”
She nodded. “I bet you he wants more.”
“I bet you he doesn’t. He’s been crystal clear.”
“Relaxing the rules is not being crystal clear.”
“Margaritas!” Jenna’s triumphant screech announced the return of the others. By the look of them, they’d already done a round of shots or two.
El gave me a soft look. “Just listen to your heart. Decide what you want and tell him. There’s no right or wrong.”
I nodded.
If only I could hear what my heart was trying to tell me.
***
The boat’s deck thrummed beneath my feet, a living thing pulsing with the beat. Night had draped its cloak over us, the darkness making everything more intimate, more intense. The music wasn’t just sound anymore; it was a physical force, each bass note reverberating through my bones.
On the dance floor, it felt as though I was in a kaleidoscope. I twirled, I swayed, I watched the world refract and coalesce.
My friends were here, but so was he.
There, at the edge of the writhing crowd, stood Ethan. His blue eyes cut through the chaos, finding me again and again. Each time our gazes locked, an electric current jolted through me, my heart stammering in an erratic rhythm.
What do you want, heart? What are you trying to tell me?
The music changed.
The music shifted, and a familiar melody washed over the crowd. “Oh yeah!” The words burst from my lips as Ed Sheeran’s sultry vocals filled the air. I let my eyes flutter closed, surrendering to “The Shape of You.”
When my eyes opened, the world had changed. Ethan stood before me, close enough that I could see the flecks of silver in his eyes, smell the faint trace of his cologne. He extended his hand, an invitation and a question all at once. The crowd seemed to fade, leaving just us in a bubble of anticipation.
“Dance with me, Lily.” His voice cut through the noise as if he’d whispered it directly into my ear.
My heart raced as I slipped my hand into his. His fingers closed around mine, warm and sure, as he drew me closer. The rest of the world fell away, and there was only us, moving together in the dark.
His strong arms around my waist, drawing me flush against his hard body. My arms around his neck, fingers tangling in his soft hair. We moved as one, our bodies perfectly in sync, as if we’d been dancing together for years.
His warm breath tickled my ear as he leaned in close. “I had to feel you against me. Had to hold you,” he murmured, his deep voice sending shivers down my spine. Where his lips grazed my skin, they left a trail of goosebumps in their wake.
“Don’t let go,” I whispered back, feeling bold and reckless. “Hold me tighter.”
Ethan’s large hands splayed across my back, molding me to him. I could smell him: whiskey and sandalwood. I could feel him. Every inch of his muscular frame pressed against mine, igniting a fire deep in my core.
Maybe people were watching.
Maybe they weren’t.
I tilted my head back, meeting his intense gaze. His blue eyes smoldered with desire, the same desperate longing I felt reflected back at me.
“This is slow dancing,” I said into his ear. “It’s against the rules.”
The song ended, but we remained locked in our embrace, chests heaving, pulses racing.
“We’d better do something that’s not against the rules, then.” Ethan’s voice was heavy and deep. “Meet me below deck by the stairs. Five minutes.” Then he broke away.
People were looking, eyes wide, mouths open.
“I—uh—need to pee,” I mumbled awkwardly, then I stumbled away to the bathroom. I closed the door behind me, chest heaving, cheeks warm. Was I really going to meet Ethan? Wouldn’t everyone know what we were going to do? I splashed water onto my wrists and onto the back of my neck, then looked at myself in the mirror.
“You deserve this,” I said, trying out a smile. “And if you’re careful, nobody will ever know.”
Two minutes later, I slipped out and headed for the main staircase, leading down into the belly of the yacht.
At the bottom of the stairs, Ethan was waiting for me. He didn’t say a word, just held out a hand. I took it.
The music was quieter down here, replaced by the deep, steady thrum of the boat’s engine. Ethan pushed open a heavy door, revealing a compact space filled with machinery. Heat enveloped us as we stepped inside, the air thick with the scent of oil and metal.
“The engine room?” I whispered, my heart racing as Ethan closed the door behind us.
He pulled me close, his eyes gleaming in the dim light. “No one will look for us here,” he murmured, his hands sliding down to my hips. “And the noise will cover any . . . sounds we might make.”
Ethan’s hands moved lower, tracing the curve of my waist, his fingers barely grazing the sensitive skin above the waistband of my cocktail dress. I could feel the heat radiating from him, mixed with the humidity of the engine room.
Then, he crushed his lips to mine.
The heat was overwhelming.
His hands roamed my back, his touch searing through the thin fabric of my dress. He nipped at my lower lip, a growl rumbling in his chest, and I gasped, the sound swallowed by his questing mouth.
Then, he spoke.
“Lily,” he murmured against my lips, his voice rough with emotion. “I can’t stay away. I know it’s stupid. I know that everyone knows what we’re doing. But I don’t care. I can’t help myself. It’s like I don’t have a fucking choice.”
He kissed my neck, and I slid my hands down to the hard bulge in his suit pants. He groaned. “You make me feel, Lily. Not just alive. You make me really, fucking feel.”
The words hung in the thick air.
My heart stuttered, then kicked into overdrive. I pulled back just enough to gaze into his eyes, those piercing blue depths that had captivated me from the moment we met.
“Ethan,” I breathed, my hand cupping his jaw, my thumb brushing over the curve of his cheekbone. “You make me feel, too.”
With a roar of lust, he pushed me up against the wall, then hitched up my dress and tugged my panties to one side. Moments later, his cock was thrusting into me, so fast and deep that I whimpered and moaned.
As he fucked me hungrily, mercilessly, I kept my eyes fixed on the engine. We moved like parts of the same machine, our bodies deeply in tune.
He split my soul. He screwed my brain. He thrust so deep, came so hard, and I exploded over him, panting and powerless, completely his.
“Damn,” he groaned.
“Damn,” I echoed.