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Mere inches separate the two of them, but where Shaylea’s body language is sultry and inviting, Damon’s seems stiff and uncomfortable.
“What’s her deal?” I ask my new friend.
Brandi tosses back the last fourth of her drink.
“Aside from being a major tease, what do you mean?”
I quickly fill her in on the events from our bike ride two days ago, noting the way she snubbed me.
Brandi rolls her now empty glass in a circle, jabbing it toward Shaylea. “Now Iknowshe overheard us.”
“What do you mean?”
We watch her walk her fingers along Damon’s arm, giggling like an idiot.
I take a hefty swig from my flute.
“He filled me in on your situation when he came to get Chuck for golf the other day. I saw her slinking around the hallway, but I didn’t think she was eavesdropping…”
If it was anyone but Brandi, I’d be mortified all over again.
I pull the outer corner of my lip between my teeth. I’m not loving the idea of Shaylea being so close to Damon, but he’s free to flirt with whomever he wants.
This is a fake arrangement after all.
I nudge Brandi with my elbow as Damon breaks free of Shaylea’s grip on his arm. “Don’t worry about it. I’m honestly relieved. I thought Damon might have told her on purpose.”
“I know you barely know the guy, but believe me, he would never intentionally hurt you, Kate.”
“Yeah, I know.” I search for a smile in the bottom of my glass, but all I find is disappointment.
Damon was right. It’s not fair for me to judge the entire male species off a few bad apples.
The man of the hour swaggers his way toward us just as Chuck appears from inside the main cabin.
We meet them halfway, and despite Shaylea’s flirting, Damon’s eyes are on me—all of me.
“Ladies,” he drawls as he hands me another flute. “I’d like to make a toast.”
I sneak a peek around him. “Where are the guys?”
Brandi snorts. “The lower deck, taking shots they snuck from the big-boobed bartender.”
That has us all snickering.
Damon raises his glass, eyes falling to mine. “To living for unexpected adventures, and all that there is to follow.”
Tiny flitters tickle my insides as our gazes dance. “Here, here.”
Our glasses clink, our friends cheer, and already this night is turning out better than I hoped.
Brandi stretches up on her tippy-toes to feel his forehead. “Are you sick? You’re awful happy to be the Damon I know.”
He bats her hand away, gifting me a dimpled smile. “That’s because I am.”
What began as a tickle deepens to a hum in my belly. He can’t be referring to me, because it goes against what we’ve agreed on. But still, the thought turns me all bubbly.
A man in a black uniform steps onto the deck from the back of the boat and whistles through his fingers. “Dinner will be served in the main cabin in approximately five minutes.”
