Chapter 5 — The Count #3
Reese found me by the coffee urn, her honey-brown eyes warm behind her sunglasses, glossy chestnut hair catching the morning light.
She didn’t say anything about the glow. She didn’t need to.
She touched my forearm, fingers tracing that familiar line from wrist to elbow, and her smile was so tender it made my chest ache.
“I’m happy for you,” she said, quiet enough that only I could hear. “Both of you. It’s about time.” Then she was gone, carrying two coffees toward where Penny was arranging herself on a dock chair with the precise care of someone being photographed.
Penny caught my eye over the rim of her sunglasses, emerald green and sharp with amusement. She raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow, glanced at Kiki, then back at me, and mouthed a single word: first.
I nearly choked on my coffee.
Eden moved through the crowd with her usual quiet efficiency, dark hair pulled back, hazel eyes assessing the scene with the satisfied focus of an architect watching her blueprint become reality.
She paused beside me long enough to squeeze my shoulder, her fingers firm and warm, and the look she gave me contained no surprise, no judgment, and a great deal of smug contentment.
“Told you she’d be the one,” she said, and then she was gone, redirecting a cluster of siblings toward the food table with the ease of someone who’d been running this operation for years.
And then there was Shay.
Shay, who had been watching me with those hypnotic blue eyes since we arrived, a half-smile playing on her lips like she’d been waiting for her turn and had no intention of being patient about it.
She made her move at the food table, reaching across my plate to grab a piece of bacon with fingers that brushed mine deliberately. “Mine now,” she said, popping it into her mouth with a grin. “Thanks, Lake Luke.”
Before I could respond, she was behind me, leaning over my shoulder, her breasts pressing against my back through the thin fabric of her tank top.
I could feel the weight of them, heavy and warm, and the scent of her, something citrusy and sharp, not vanilla like Kiki, something wilder, filled my nose and went straight to my cock.
“Your coffee smells burnt,” she said, her breath hot against my ear. “You want mine? I haven’t touched it.” She reached around me, her arm brushing my chest, and pressed her red cup into my hand. Our fingers tangled, and she didn’t pull away.
“That’s—thanks.” My voice sounded normal. I had no idea how.
“You’re welcome.” She lingered, her body still pressed against my back, and then she was gone, only to reappear five minutes later when I’d found a spot on the dock railing with my plate balanced on my knees.
She dropped into my lap without warning, without asking, her ass landing square on my thighs with a bounce that sent a jolt through my already half-hard cock.
Her arm hooked around my neck, her dark hair tickling my jaw, and she reached for a grape from my plate with the casual entitlement of someone who considered my lap communal property.
“These grapes are shit,” she announced, chewing.
“Too sweet. Cooper probably bought the cheap ones.” She shifted her weight, grinding against my erection in a motion so smooth it could have been accidental if I didn’t know better, and my cock throbbed against the denim of her shorts hard enough that I had to set my plate down before I dropped it.
“Shay.” Her name came out rougher than I meant it.
“Mm?” She looked up at me, all wide blue eyes and innocent curiosity, and the contrast between that expression and the deliberate roll of her hips was so perfect it should have been illegal.
From across the dock, Trina Hollis caught the display and shook her head with fond exasperation. “Shay, honey, Luke probably doesn’t want you hanging all over him like that. Give the man some space to eat his breakfast.”
Shay turned toward her mother, still seated firmly in my lap, her ass grinding against my cock with every shift, and smiled the bright, cheerful smile of a perfect Hollis daughter. “Luke loves it. Don’t you, Luke?”
Five sets of eyes found mine. Mark, flipping bacon.
Caroline, arranging a platter. Trina, waiting for an answer.
Cooper, grinning like he knew exactly what was happening.
And Kiki, standing by the coffee urn with my blue t-shirt hanging off her shoulder, watching with a smile so warm and approving it made my chest tight.
“I, uh.” I cleared my throat. “It’s fine. Shay’s just being Shay.”
“See?” Shay settled deeper into my lap, her weight warm and solid, and reached for another grape. “Told you.”
What Trina couldn’t see, what nobody could see from where they were standing, was what happened under the table.
Shay shifted again, her ass pressing directly against my erection, and the friction of denim against cotton sent a pulse of heat through my cock that made my jaw clench.
She leaned back against my chest, her head resting on my shoulder, and her voice dropped to a whisper meant for my ear alone.
“You fucked her last night.” Not a question.
A statement, delivered with the casual certainty of someone who’d heard the evidence.
“We could hear her. All the way down by the pool. She was loud, Lake Luke. Really, really loud.” Her hips rolled again, grinding against me in slow circles.
“I’m next. Just so you know. I’m not patient, and I’m not sweet about it, and I have plans for that cock that would make Kiki blush, and she doesn’t blush easy. ”
My hands found her waist on instinct, fingers digging into the soft curve of her hips, and I had exactly zero idea how I was going to stand up without announcing to the entire Bishop dock that Shay Hollis had given me a hard-on the size of a railroad spike while sitting in my lap eating grapes.
Kiki caught my eye from across the dock. She was smiling, warm and open, no shadow of jealousy anywhere in her expression, and she raised her coffee cup in a silent toast that said, clear as day: she’s yours too. I’m good with it.
The families laughed. The lake shone. Bacon sizzled on the grill.
And Luke Whitaker, trusted bachelor, reliable adult, sat on the Bishop dock with a beautiful woman in his lap, another woman watching from across the boards with approval in her eyes, and a hard-on that was going to require either cold lake water or a very strategic exit in the next five minutes.
Neither seemed likely.
***
Vince Hollis found me by the coffee urn, his hand clapping my shoulder with the easy familiarity of a man who’d known me long enough to treat my personal space as optional.
“Whitaker. Perfect timing. I want to show you the new boat. Just got her moored up last night, still figuring out the quirks, but Christ, she’s pretty. ”
The new Hollis boat was moored at the far end of the Bishop dock, a forty-foot Sea Ray that gleamed white and blue in the morning light, its hull reflecting the lake water in rippling patterns that moved with every gentle lap against the pilings.
Not the biggest boat on Waverly, but solid, well-maintained, and clearly Vince’s new pride and joy.
“I’d love to see it,” I said, because saying no to Vince Hollis was like saying no to a friendly golden retriever, technically possible but morally questionable.
Shay materialized beside her father, dark hair loose around her shoulders, mesmerizing blue eyes finding mine with a brightness that her family would read as daughterly enthusiasm and I was starting to recognize as something considerably less innocent.
“Daddy, can I come? Please? I want to see Luke’s face when he sees the cabin.
It’s insane.” She hooked her arm through Vince’s, leaning against him with the easy affection of a daughter who adored her father, and the word “Daddy” landed exactly as it should: normal, familial, carrying no erotic charge whatsoever.
She was Shay Hollis, Vince’s wild child, and the way she looked at him was warm and genuine and completely separate from the way her eyes cut to me a second later, holding my gaze just long enough to make sure I understood the performance.
“Course you can come, Trouble.” Vince ruffled her hair. “Might need you to work the stereo. Still can’t figure out the Bluetooth.”
“On it.” She grinned at me over her shoulder as we walked toward the boat. “Luke’s gonna lose his mind. Wait till you see the primary suite. It’s bigger than my bedroom at home.”
The emphasis on “primary suite” was subtle but unmistakable, and the look she gave me contained approximately zero interest in boat cabins and one hundred percent interest in what might happen inside one.
We boarded via the swim platform, Vince leading with the confident stride of a man showing off his new toy.
The deck was polished teak, still damp from morning dew, and the boat rocked gently under our weight, water slapping against the hull in a rhythm that matched the distant laughter from the dock.
Family voices carried across the water, Mark shouting something about more bacon, Cooper’s laugh, the higher pitch of siblings arguing over orange juice, and the normalcy of it should have been comforting.
It wasn’t. It was cover, and I was starting to understand that cover was exactly what the women in my life were best at.
Vince took us through the layout with the pride of a man who’d memorized the brochure.
Bow seating with built-in coolers. Mid-cabin galley with a microwave I'd never use.
Helm station with enough screens to launch a spaceship.
I nodded at the right moments, asked the right questions, and tried very hard not to notice that Shay had positioned herself directly behind me in the narrow passageway, her body close enough that I could feel the warmth of her through the thin fabric of my polo.
“Sorry,” she said, squeezing past me, her hip brushing mine, her breasts pressing against my arm for one deliberate second before she moved on. “Tight in here.”