“Where do you live?” I ask, looking over his shoulder at the bungalow. The area of roof that’s missing would be right above where the bathroom would be. He obviously doesn’t live here, and Mel and I haven’t seen any other bungalows this far from the hotel. He must live off-site like Emmy.
“Somewhere else.”
I roll my eyes. The ‘nobody’. I get it. He doesn’t want me to know a thing about him. But there are some things he at least needs to give me.
“What’s your name?”
He halts, his eyes pinching at the corners as he looks down at me.
“Come on. I get why people call you Woody.” I roll a finger around, indicating toward the pieces of driftwood. “But what shouldIcall you?”
“What should you call me?” he repeats.
I really could smack him in the mouth with how deliberately obtuse he’s being.
“I might want to call you something when we’re…” I wrinkle my nose.
He rolls his lips. “You want to know what name to moan out when I fuck your next orgasm out of you?”
I glare at him even though the way he says it sounds so hot.
“I’m not calling you Woody,” I state. “My mom chose Jude, saying it’s the Patron Saint of lost souls. She said she knew when I was born that I’d help people.”
I bite my tongue at my oversharing. My father wouldn’t agree that my job and the computer program I created helps people. Mom doesn’t see it like that. I know she’s proud of me.
He starts moving again, pausing beside a candle burning inside a hurricane vase.
“What does your mom call you?” I press. “Or your dad? Your family?”
He sniffs, staring at the flame dancing inside the jar like he’s entranced by it.
“Call me Cowboy. That’s the name you gave me. It’s the only one you need.”
He blows out the candle, sending us into darkness as a new emotion passes over his face.
But I still catch a flash of it, and something about it makes my skin prickle.
Remorse.
“What do you think he’s hiding?” I ask Mel.
We’re floating in the ocean and staring back at the beach. Woody’s saying something to Declan on the beach, pointing along the shoreline at the main hotel building.
“I don’t know. You’re the one who got carried back to bed by him last night. You know him better than me. At least, your pussy does.”
She snorts as I splash her. Woody carried me all the way back to our bungalow last night, walking me inside and placing me down on the bed because my legs were still as wobbly as a newborn calf’s. I could tell by her breathing that Mel was pretending to be asleep. So, when Woody tipped my chin up and delivered one chaste kiss to my lips before he left, I know she saw.
And she hasn’t let up grilling me about it since.
“We aren’t getting to know one another. It’s just sex.”
“Sounds so hot. I want a vacation fuck buddy.” She sighs.
“Emmy said he does all these different extreme sports, like he thrives off pushing his limits. But I just know he’s got issues. Deep ones. Anger ones. He’s hiding something,” I murmur, narrowing my eyes at his broad frame as he walks off into the trees and out of sight.
“You’re doing exactly what you said you weren’t going to,” Mel chirps, relaxing back in the water.
“Wondering what he’s lying about?”
