6
Hearts!
A long, deep breath brought the scent of warm bourbon and sweet vanilla, like those old cigarillos his ma smoked. The stronger scent of lavender, like being home and having just turned down this bedsheets, tickled his nose as Lachlan buried it into the obnoxiously airy pillow. The heavy arm across his back kept him in place. He loved the sound of a big man snoring next to him, unable to resist wiggling his ass against that hairy torso before he slid out of bed.
Lach rubbed the sleep from his blurry eyes and stretched. Sunlight peaked in from the veranda curtains, haphazardly pulled shut in their rush last night. He’d grown too familiar with this environment, so much it ached.
Following the clinking of bottles to the bathroom, he hesitated until he caught a glimpse of Champagne at the counter.
The bathroom was humid, the shower still damp, and the scent of this gorgeous woman took over the smell of soap. Brave in his morning slog, Lach moved behind Champagne and dropped his head against her naked back, listening to the way her hand rubbed lotion on her skin and beat a rhythm in her silky chest.
“You’re really not much of a morning person,“
she teased, a tinkle of amusement in her words.
“Never,“
he grunted back, yawning. “Hips ache…”
Champagne laughed, turning and wrapping her arms around his boxer-clad body. Her fingers ran through his hair, dragging across his scalp. “Poor thing. Neither of you do well with the sunrise…”
Lachlan only grunted in response, feeling sleepier wrapped in those soft arms and the overpowering scent of Champagne filling his nose. He resisted sleep, pulling back and letting his eyes linger on her perky breasts.
“Eyes up here, handsome,“
she demanded, voice soft but rich. “Help me latch this damn bra so I can go get us coffee. The stuff in the room is tolerable but the cafe is better.”
He bit back a second yawn and shook his head. “I’ll go.”
“Nonsense.“
She gripped his jaw and kissed him, soft and sweet. It tasted like wintergreen and chapstick. “Jorge doesn’t like waking up alone and you both look exhausted.”
He raised a brow at her, his vision a little clearer. “And you aren’t? I’m pretty sure we’ve only gotten like three hours.”
“Sweetheart… Sex is a feast for me.“
Champagne booped his nose then spun, pulling up the padded bra. Her hands slid along the straps and offered them to him.
That little movement broke his brain. Whatever the hell he found sexy about those fingers working a piece of fabric, the mundane motion got his heart racing. His own hands shook as he slotted the little hooks into place.
“You’re so damn pretty,“
he muttered, then placed a kiss on the space between her shoulder blades.
The stillness that followed ratcheted up his nerves. He took a step back, eyes catching her sad expression in the mirror. Lachlan frowned but Champagne simply shook her head.
Biting down on her lower lip, her dark brown eyes flicked away for only a second then she was back to staring at his soul through that mirror. The intensity bounced around frantically in his mind, uncertainty and fear filling him like a ton of bricks.
“W-what?”
“You’re bad for my heart, Lachlan Campbell.”
They had five days left.
They spent two nights filling a single bed and Lach did everything he could to forget this would all just be a fever dream on the high seas someday. In five days, he’d have to say goodbye. Drag Shawna home, finish summer on the ranch, then go back to a long winter working the highways.
Without them.
An empty bed. A cold house. Bland food. Silence.
It filled him with so much dread knowing he’d only have them in his dreams for the rest of his life.
“I kind of like knowing that…“
he confessed, lowering his head.
“Know you’re special,“
Champagne whispered, her voice tender with a slight tremble. She pressed a kiss into his temple and squeezed his hand. “Go back to bed.”
He didn’t fight crawling back into bed, being pulled in tight when those large arms wrapped around him. Lachlan melted. He buried his nose into the strong carpeted chest, vibrating with joy under the dozen sleepy kisses placed on his head. The aggressive kisses to his mouth claimed the air from his lungs as Jorge hovered over him, turning Lach boneless under that intense stare.
He sank into the mattress as Jorge devoured him, a warm, steady hand at the base of his head, locking them together. Another hand ran up and down his body, commanding the blood in his veins and touching every inch of skin.
“You’re bad for my heart as well, Güero,“
Jorge whispered. He nuzzled his nose in the soft space between Lach’s neck and shoulder, dropping his weight against him.
“Fuck…
His heart was breaking apart and dragging these two with it.
“We have five days,“
Lach managed to utter around the lump of sorrow in his throat. He hardly registered the click of the door or the smell of coffee. “I want every second.”
“Five days to claim every inch of your body? Mark you as ours.“
Champagne stepped up to the bed, setting the coffee on the nightstand. Her nail ran up his throat and poked his chin, forcing his gaze up. “I don’t want just five days.”
Lach froze, his heart stuttering to a halt. “I-I don’t either.”
Champagne shared a longing glance with Jorge as he settled his body over Lachlan and buried his head in Lach’s neck. The man pulled in deep gulps of air, his arms squeezing Lachlan tight as Champagne petted his broad back.
“We could always collar him,“
Champagne said, her voice forcefully light. “Put him in our suitcase.”
“I’m not a pet,“
Lach protested.
Champagne rolled her eyes. “I want to be offended how fast you rejected the idea but your adorable scrunched nose has me all melty and such. Sweet man.“
She slapped Jorge’s ass and after another deep, shuddering breath, he shifted to sit up. “Grab your coffees, get a shower. We are going to spend every damn second together the rest of this cruise… but I’ve got to respond to a work email while I still have signal.”
Lach sat up and sipped at his coffee, eyes wandering between the vanity she sat at, working on her laptop, and watching Jorge. His sullen face and pinched brows, fingers curled up in the bedsheets, jaw set. The pain written on his expression bit into Lachlan’s heart.
Every moment with them felt so strangely domestic. Perfect. He understood the ache to not see this end, sorry for all the hurt this happiness would bring. For him. For Champagne. For Jorge. They’d found something amazing and it wasn’t theirs to keep.
The coffee cup came out of his hand, Jorge setting it on the table next to his. He took Lach’s hand and pulled him up, that gorgeous smile covering his face. “Come shower with me.”
This borrowed happiness would end and Lachlan knew it would kill him when it did.