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“Thank you muchly, Sir.” I sat down on the…whatever it was. All the veranda furniture was some kind of dark wicker, except it wasn’t wicker. It wasn’t wood or sticks; it was plastic or who gives a shit. “I don’t know where Ash went, but I think Daddy’s working out.”
“And they left you to your own devices?” Reese asked, pouring me a glass of juice.
“Daddy’s a high-risk gambler,” I replied frankly. “Thank you.” I accepted the juice and sipped it while I perused the deliciousness. Oh, I needed a fluffy pancake. I grabbed one and bit into it. Perfect. “So how are you this fine morning?”
“We’re great,” Reese replied with a smile. “Lookin’ forward to our excursion.”
“Oh! Which one did you book?” I hadn’t been impressed by the selection for St. Thomas, nor had Daddy, but we were excited for tomorrow! We were renting Jet-Skis in St. Croix.
“We’re goin’ deep-sea fishin’,” Reese answered. “We didn’t go through the cruise line, though. I rented a boat with a local vendor.”
So that they could speed off on their own. I totally would’ve done that too. Guides were boring! They were all about safety this and safety that.
Snooze.
“That sounds awesome.” I bit another chunk off my pancake and reached for half a kiwi. “Daddy and I are renting Jet-Skis tomorrow. I can’t wait.”
“But you’ll be at the beach later, right?” Shay asked pointedly.
I nodded. I hadn’t forgotten. I wouldn’t miss it! All the Tops were gonna be like, ohhhh, you got us good, brats!
River cleared his throat and sipped from his coffee. “St. Croix should be fun.”
“I don’t know about fun—we haven’t planned anythin’,” Reese said.
River shrugged. “They have good beaches and relics from the pirate days.”
“But we do have plans,” Shay pointed out. “Macklin and Tate are arranging a beach party.”
“I meant excursion-wise, baby,” Reese explained. “Don’t worry, we won’t miss the party.”
They didn’t suspect anything, did they? They didn’t exchange any furtive glances or nothing, so I hoped they were oblivious. At least about the date we’d picked. In general, they were hella suspicious! And that was the whole point.
I borrowed Shay’s spoon to get cracking on my kiwi, and it was super juicy and sweet.
Reese eyed the fruit platter and picked a strawberry, and he pulled out the fruit pick from it and held it up. A pink, plastic stick with a needle-sharp tip. “This could make a fine weapon. Maybe not in the old pirate days but for a modern-day Sadist.”
Shay went still, and I cursed myself for immediately seeking out his gaze. Macklin had warned me that those were dead giveaways!
River hummed and went for a pineapple chunk instead. That one had a blue fruit pick, and he inspected it closely.
“Anythin’ can be a weapon.” He nodded at the breakfast spread. “The ice in the juice. The utensils. And this…” He grabbed the little cup of honey or syrup and held up the wooden honey dipper as the thick, golden syrup trickled back down into the cup. “This one in particular. The honey dipper can be lethal.”
I scrunched my nose. How was that thing going to be lethal? At most, I’d get a sticky boop on the nose.
“Yeah, okay, Green Mohawk. Sure.” I pointed to a yogurt cup. “May I have one of those?” There were only three, so didn’t want to assume.
“Go for it.” River handed it to me. Zero reaction to my mohawk nickname? Lame!
“Thanks!” I dropped a few blueberries into the yogurt, and River held up the honey in silent offering. I narrowed my eyes and held the yogurt away from him. “Isn’t it plain honey?”
“Of course it is,” he replied. “It’s the dipper you should fear.”
How?! How could that thing be dangerous? He had to be messing with me!
I glanced at Reese, and he was no help. He was spreading butter on his toast. Shay, then? Shay! Shay was watching us while chewing on a strip of bacon. The frustrating part was that aside from a pinch of amusement in his eyes, I couldn’t tell what was happening.
“Then again…it’s just a damn honey dipper,” River said. “What could I have done with it?”
