Page 47 of Sand in My Boots

Wednesday evening bleeds into Thursday afternoon.

Once we made it back to the resort, we agreed we were only leaving the premises in an emergency. Anything else we needed could be delivered.

I talked Cameron into hitting up The Drift again for Bushwackers. He wouldn’t allow me to have two, but once mine slid down easily, he passed the rest of his to me. By the time we got back to the room, my body was humming. And I needed release in a bad way. Damn bastard kept me on edge for a good thirty minutes before he finally gave in and let me come.

I’m not complaining. It was almost worth the wait.

We ordered breakfast to be delivered from his favorite mom-and-pop shop with the agreement we would hit up the buffet on Sunday morning. Again, not complaining about the delicious chocolate chip and walnut pancakes he fed me in bed.

This vacation is turning out to be so much more than attending my friend’s wedding and catching up with my brother. I’m living in the moment and soaking up every day I get with Cameron one day at a time.

“Oh no he didn’t.”

I’m lounging on the bed, waiting for Cameron to be ready to go to the pool. He’s in the living room taking care of a few work things. I can’t be mad since I all but commanded him to take the days off to spend with me. On such short notice, it’s hard to leave everything for the next week. Especially when he’s literally still on the premises.

“Who is he and what’s he doing?” Cameron materializes in the doorway to the bedroom. He went casual today—navy blue graphic tee and his board shorts for the pool. His stubble is a bit rougher than yesterday, and to say I’m excited about what it will do to my thighs is an understatement. He finger-combed his hair a few times, and I’m digging the look.

“Preston. He says he’s ‘too busy’ for dinner tonight. Why is he like this? Does he not know how to take a break?”

“He always finds time to surf.” He doesn’t mean the comment so callously, but the implied meaning comes shining through—he makes time for what he considers a priority. “Maybe you want to⁠—”

I hold up a hand to cut off what he’s going to say. “I won’t be joining him at that hour. I added it to his calendar and everything,” I whine. Before I have a chance to pull the attitude back, my phone rings. “Think you can get your brother not to cancel dinner on me?” Oops. Guess Elisa is getting my attitude, too.

“Hiya, sis. What’s shaking? How’s Whispering Tide?” Her upbeat tone should piss me off, but it does the exact opposite. I sit up on the bed to talk to my sister.

“Gorgeous. I may never come home.”

I haven’t given it much thought, but now there’s more than the exquisite resort garnering my consideration for why I should stay.

“I’m glad you’re having fun. Run into Cameron yet?”

My eyes meet the man in question. “You could say that.”

“He still hot?”

“Extremely.” I high-five myself for not putting this call on speakerphone.

“You finally tap him?”

“Um, yeah. That has definitely happened.” Heat flushes my cheeks, and Cameron smirks, having an inkling of what I must be referring to.

“You go, girl. Was it everything you imagined it to be?”

With the ten-year age gap between us, she was too young to know how I truly felt about Cameron. But one time, she plied me with alcohol, and I spilled a lot of secrets. Apparently, I was sober enough not to tell her about our fling years before, but she got a lot of other details.

“Affirmative.”

“That’s my girl.” She often forgets she’s the younger sister. Unless she plays the “baby of the family” card. Which is more often than not.

I chuckle, the noise a surprise to Cameron, who’s joined me on the bed. “What’s up with you? Why are you calling me on my vacation?” Hopefully, my joking tone doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Checking in with you. It’s weird not to speak with you for a few days.”

I’d say the same, but when she’s on vacation, god forbid I interrupt her with something so mundane as “I miss you.” Like my parents, I’ve learned to cater to her, only perpetuating the problem.

Elisa and I speak for about ten minutes. Cameron takes my bare foot in his hands, massaging it. I stifle my moans, but Elisa sees through it.

“He’s there now?”