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Mia took the frozen pouch Carla pulled out of the cooler. Unlike Carla, she wanted that—the something she saw in Cal and Daeg’s faces when they looked at their fiancées—and that wasn’t something she could simply order into being.
“We’re thinking a Vegas wedding,” Piper said happily, when Cal let her come up for air.
“I didn’t get the memo this was a party.”
Her traitorous heart thumped, lurching into overtime. Tag strode up her garden path, looking rumpled and sexy. He’d brought more fix-it supplies, along with Ben Franklin, the boxer, who happily helped himself to a drink from the pool and then picked out a shady spot underneath a hydrangea. Cal pulled her into a one-sided hug, catching her hand in his. “You leave this finger bare too long, and someone might make a move on her.”
Daeg tugged her in his direction. “X marks the spot?”
“Sure and why don’t you all just pee on her yard?” Carla quipped, eliciting a chorus of groans.
Mia hopped into the pool, taking Piper’s abandoned spot. Screw it. She didn’t care if Ben Franklin had just used it as a water fountain. She was pretty certain there wasn’t a sink in her house Sam hadn’t drunk out of. Maybe the cold water would cool down her feelings for Tag.
Or not.
Keep him.
Like he’d read her mind, he set down his box of stuff and headed her way, pulling his T-shirt over his head. A pair of swim trunks hung temptingly low on his hips. She looked up—reluctantly—and over the hard lines of his abdomen. He grinned down at her, a sensual smile tugging at his lips. “Budge up.”
Her wading pool was hardly built for two. “No room at the inn. The ocean is to your right about a hundred yards. Try there.”
“Uh-huh.” He scooped her up into his arms before she could protest and dropped down into the pool, cradling her against his chest. “Jesus. That’s cold.”
“Baby.”
In retaliation, he dropped her into the water, but, since she ended up cradled between his legs, his arms wrapped around her middle while their friends catcalled and hollered encouragement, his penance was no penance at all. In fact, she rather suspected her heart was melting faster than her daiquiri in the sun.
13
THE FERRY BACK to Discovery Island left in an hour. Tag had already bought the ticket and parked his truck in the growing queue. All he had to do now was pick up a ring before it was time to board. Conveniently, the drugstore nearest the pier had trays of inexpensive rings in the front window. The rings were cheerful and packed plenty of glitter.
He fought the urge to look over his shoulder like 007. The odds of anyone watching him duck into the drugstore for a fake ring were low. He could be in and out in under ten minutes, and it wasn’t like they had a real engagement. After all, she’d told him to buy cubic zirconia.
Doing anything else was stupid.
But they had something. He wasn’t sure what that something was, and he only had a few weeks left to explore it. He was an idiot, but he looked down the street anyhow, and, sure enough, the jewelry store was right where he’d noticed it when he’d driven his truck off the ferry earlier today.
There was really only one reason to buy a ring for a woman: because he wanted to. Despite their Discovery Island peanut gallery, the ring was for her. For them. But she’d wanted to keep it casual. They were friends with benefits, she’d said.
He just hadn’t expected his friendship with Mia to come with quite so many benefits. She was really hot in bed, although he’d known that for years. She was also funny and smart. She gave as good as she got, and he liked spending time with her. The fact he didn’t mind picking out a ring for her said it all. She was more than just a friend or a benefit.
Damn it.
He should go inside the drugstore, grab the biggest, cheapest cubic zirconia ring he could find, and hightail it back to Discovery Island. They’d have a good laugh showing it off to curious onlookers and play it up to the hilt fielding questions about price tags and size compensation issues. His reflection grinned at him looking like a crazy man.
Except...
He wanted to do something nice for her, even if she didn’t know about it. His feet were on board with the plan, turning and taking him down the sidewalk to the jeweler’s. He pushed open the door and stepped inside. Jesus. Not his kind of place. The shop was dull of froufrou glass cases and little velvet footstool things. Or maybe they were chairs. Hell if he knew.
