Page 49 of Lowering His Guard

“Don’t worry, Daddy.” She pats my hand. “I’ll keep the kiddo safe.”

Daddy? I enjoy her using that word entirely too much. It’s a good thing I’m parking at the resort. Who knows what dumb shit would fall out of my mouth at the moment?

“See you later, May. Why don’t the two of you go get an ice cream again?” Jace asks before jumping out and disappearing.

I growl. “I need to make weight on Monday.”

I rub my stomach. “And I couldn’t eat another thing.”

“Because you ate every single snack on offer at Mermaid Mystical Gardens.”

She shrugs. “Going to the gardens is a special occasion. You don’t diet on special occasions.” She gives me a sympathetic look. “Unless you have to make weight on Monday.”

“I can have a drink and still make weight.” So much for not letting dumb shit fall out of my mouth.

She clutches her chest. “Why, Brock Porter, are you asking if I want to get a drink?”

I glare at her and she bursts into laughter. “Let’s go.”

She opens her door and jumps out while I’m still sitting frozen in my seat. What am I doing? Why am I tempting fate? I should escape to my hotel room, far away from May. But I won’t.

She pokes her head in the SUV. It barely reaches the seat. “Come on. I’m in the mood for a mermaid’s kiss.”

And now I need to know what a mermaid’s kiss is. This island intrigues me. Or is it this woman who has me intrigued?

Chapter 16

Lineup – Not every wave is worth chasing. Sometimes the best ones are worth waiting for.

May

I lead Brock to the beach bar. “Hey, Tessa,” I greet the bartender. “How are you enjoying bartending?”

“I enjoy the tips. They’re way better than at the Mermaid Hotel.”

“I bet. I’ll have a Mermaid’s Kiss. And the giant will have…” I pause to study Brock, who cocks an eyebrow at me. “A light beer?”

He grunts.

“A grunt means he agrees with me.”

He rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t argue. I was right.

“What the hell is in a Mermaid’s Kiss?” Brock asks when Tessa hands me my drink.

“It’s Buccaneer’s Moonshine, lemonade, blue curaçao, and edible glitter. It looks innocent but it isn’t.”

“It doesn’t look innocent.”

I offer him the glass. “You want a sip?”

He makes a face. “No, thanks.”

“Your loss.” I hold up my glass. “Here’s to the bootleggers. Masters of the sneaky sips and secret stashes. Thanks for keeping the party alive.”

Brock doesn’t move. He stands there staring at me. I clink my glass to his. “And now you say ‘to the bootleggers’.”

He grunts.