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He chuckles. “I was just saying you should think about a mail order bride if you’re going to stay here and work indefinitely. I know a guy.”
“I don’t need a mail order bride, or a dating service for that matter. Hey Sam, do me a favor. Cut those two women off,” I say. “I’ve got a bad feeling about those two deckhands over there.”
I watch as Sierra and Jax approach the bar and ask for two margaritas. Sam looks from me to them and says, “I’m sorry, ladies. I’m not allowed to keep serving once guests are visibly intoxicated. It’s a safety measure. I’m so sorry.”
It’s a blatant lie, but it works. I watch the women slink off, only slightly disappointed. “Well, we’ve got donkey yoga tomorrow anyway,” Jax says teasingly.
“Whatever,” responds Sierra, laughing.
I watch as two yachties who’ve been eyeing the ladies get up and pay their tab, then follow Jax and Sierra about twenty paces behind them.
It’s a long walk back to the hotel from the pier; this property is sprawling. The women stick to the lit boardwalk along the beach. When we reach the hotel, I can still hear the two men mumbling and quietly laughing. Then, they rush forward to hold open the doors for them.
“Ladies,” one of them says, shooting them a brilliant, white smile.
The other one says, “Let us escort you to your room.”
Fortunately, the two women have enough awareness about their situation to turn them down. “Oh, that’s not necessary,” Jax says.
And yet, the two young men don’t take a hint. I follow them upstairs and down the hallway.
Jax fumbles with her keycard, and one of the men takes it from her. “Allow me.”
The other man places a hand on Sierra’s back, and she freezes, eyes wide.
“That won’t be necessary,” I say, walking up, plucking the card away from the man, and inserting it into the card reader. “Cerulean Resort and Spa thanks you for escorting our guests back to their rooms. You can go back to your boat now.”
The two white-boaters stare at me like I’ve just grown a third head, but then mumble, shrug, and walk away, cursing under their breath. At least they know it’s better for their health to avoid lighting my fuse.
Jax shoots me a severe expression. “You’re not going to try to invite yourself in for a three-way, are you? Because like we told those guys, we’re not into ménage.”
I am most certainly not interested in a three-way. I cast my eyes at Sierra, who smiles and bites her lip. “No. No, I’m not.”
Jax sucks in a breath. “I recognize you by your voice! You’re Pilot!”
Sierra blinks several times, and then recognition washes over her face. “It is you! I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize you without your cap and sunglasses.” She sways a bit, and I instinctively reach out to help her remain steady. When my hand brushes her hip, my pulse races.
“You’re … like … really dreamy. In a bossy, take charge kind of way.” Sierra’s consonants are thick and slurred from the effects of the tequila.
I rub my hands together, not wanting to leave but knowing I must. No use in having a conversation she’s not going to remember. “Go drink some water,” I rasp, backing away and sliding my hand away from her hip.
Jax hiccups and stumbles into the room. Sierra does the world’s most adorable shoulder shimmy, then says in an imitation of a breathy Marilyn Monroe, “Yes, Daddy.” That pout is going to get her into trouble. But not with any random yachtie. With me.
Her lovely, if bloodshot, eyes stay locked on mine as she closes their hotel room door. I walk away frustrated as fuck, taking consolation in having done my good deed for the day.
On my way out of the hotel, I stop by the main desk to order Sierra and Jax some much-needed midnight room service: omelets, Tylenol, and the biggest bottle of water the kitchen can provide.
Chapter Four
Sierra
“Who’s ready for donkey yoga?!” I really shouldn’t shout at the hungover Jax, who passed out on the chaise in the living area of our suite.
She smacks her lips, making that icky, dry noise that makes me cringe, but I’m ready with a glass of water and some over-the-counter meds. Opening one eye to glare at me, she takes my offerings. “Thank you.”
I feel great, thanks to the hotel’s surprise delivery of eggs and headache medicine last night.
After she drinks all of her water, Jax asks what time it is. I check my watch, “We have fifteen minutes to get ready for the canoe to take us to Temple Island.”
