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“Thank you,” I say and he quickly withdraws. His gaze lingers, but Cal draws my attention.
“You need to eat something.” I watch as he opens a packet of malted vinegar and shakes it over the fish. Then he passes over a plastic fork while I open the small cup of coleslaw.
“Perfect beach food,” I say, scooping out a bite of the savory salad. “Isn’t this great?”
“I’m sure you’d think anything was great at this point.” His eye narrow slightly, and I lean into his chest.
“Are you saying I’m drunk?” That makes me giggle, and I sway to “Could You Be Loved.”
His eyes travel over me slowly again, and it’s like warm honey in my veins. “Perhaps not drunk, but you’re definitely switching to something non-alcoholic. I want you sober tonight when I fuck you.”
“Jee-zus,” I sigh. This man.
Shaking my head, I fork a large piece of fried cod and slip it in my mouth. Then I let out a little groan. “This is so good.” I fork another one as he watches me.
“Traditional British fare,” he says.
“For the British Virgin Islands… Aren’t you eating?”
He does a little laugh and picks up the entire piece of cod with his hand. It’s like a fried brown football, and he bites the pointed end off, giving me a wink.
I laugh and rest my head on my hand. “See? You can do the simple life. What if we just stay here? It’s not such a bad place.”
He’s wiping the grease away with a paper napkin. “I’d stay anywhere with you.”
He means it, and he has no idea what those words do to me—the rush in my stomach, the tingle between my thighs. “Cal.”
I watch as he flags down the bartender. “What sort of… non-alcoholic drinks do you have?”
The man turns and digs around in a box of ice. “Coke?”
A red can is placed in front of me, and I give Cal a sheepish grin as I pop the top. “Thanks?”
“Happens to the best of us.” He winks and leans closer.
The song changes to “Is This Love,” and Cal’s eyes light. “I love this song.”
My hand is in his, and we’re on the dance floor faster than I can say “more cod.” One strong arm is around my waist, the other holds my hand near our shoulders. I’m thankful I wore my platform espadrilles so my chin is just at his collarbone. Our bodies touch from shoulder to hip, and citrus, cedar, and Cal fill my senses with every sway.
“So I throw my cards on your table,” he croons softly in my ear, and I hum as little chills skirt down my arms.
Tingling warmth swells in my chest, and I close my eyes, floating in his arms to the perfect soundtrack. I’m not sure if my head is spinning because of the punch or his proximity, but it can’t get any better. Or it couldn’t until his warm lips touch the side of my neck.
“Oh, Cal,” I sigh, melting into him.
I’m more sober and completely horny hours later as we’re walking, fingers laced, up the sand path to the villa. Strolling in the moonlight after the evening we’ve just shared, I reconsider my reasons for staying.
“Ava once said I live for the adrenaline rush.”
He stops us midway to the house. “Okay?”
It’s late, and the moon is shining down. I want to strip out of our clothes and run down to the ocean. Still, I continue. “I wanted her to get her GED, go to community college, and get a real job. I wanted us to leave that life of crime. She said I was small time. She said I live for the adrenaline rush of nearly getting caught.”
My eyes drop, and I study the front of that ridiculous tee. I’m still ashamed of what I am—of him knowing, but I think of that little girl who watched me grow up. Ava knows me unlike anyone in my life. She’d also been the one begging me to stay in Monagasco. She said she’d never seen me with anyone the way I am with Cal.
“Are you worried you’ll grow tired of me?” The slightest tease is in his voice—still, it’s laced with seriousness.
“I’m worried I don’t know what I’ll do.” My throat is tight, and I’m doing my best to be as honest as I can without hurting him. “What will I do if I go back with you? Sit around and knit?”
