Down for the Count (Dare Me)

chapter Nine


It was evening by the time they emerged from the bedroom again. He tugged Lacey into the shower, and she laughed, hiding her face in his shoulder, trying to shield herself from him.

“I just spent the better part of the day kissing, licking, and sucking every part of you, and you’re going to get shy again? No way.” He kissed her hard and pulled away until he could see her entire body. She blushed, but she didn’t turn away.

Funny how he’d been on a mission to drive her wild. He’d succeeded, and had the scratches on his back to prove it. But what he hadn’t expected was for her to drive him just as crazy. Hell, she’d knocked him flat on his ass. Giving and greedy. Sensual but sweet. He’d never been with anyone like her.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked, swiping the wet hair from her face.

“Taking you out,” he said. It was the truth. He wanted to take her on the town in a pretty dress and open doors for her. She deserved to be doted on some.

“Where?”

“I don’t know. Let’s get ready for a special night, and we’ll go down and talk to the concierge. Maybe dinner and the casino?”

She shook her head and held up a hand. “I’m not really a gambler, but I’ll watch if you want to go.”

“We’ll figure something out. Now go get ready.” He gave her one more quick kiss and shooed her out of the stall.

After he dried off and dressed, he waited in the living room while she did whatever face-painting, boob-taping ritual girls did to get ready for a fancy night out. An hour later he was just about to start complaining when she walked into the living room and sent his jaw swinging.

Her honey-colored mane swung loose around her bare shoulders, framing her glowing face beautifully. The black dress she’d chosen was shorter than anything he’d ever seen her wear and showed off her gorgeous gams to perfection. “Damn, squirt. You are so fine.”

Her hand fluttered to her midriff and she looked away. “Yeah, well, thank your sister. She insisted that every girl needs a little black dress—emphasis on the ‘little’—and she made me buy it for the honeymoon.”

“Remind me to send her some flowers.”

He hustled her out the door before she changed her mind and her clothes, and they made their way to the main hall reception desk.

“Good evening, Jesus. We were hoping you could offer some suggestions for a big night on the town.”

“Oh, hello Mr. and Mrs. Clemson. I was going to come to you today, but things got very busy here at the desk. You had some more phone calls.” He ruffled through some papers on his desk and held out a pile of messages.

She eyed them like they’d been dipped in acid. “All of them from my mother?”

He shrugged then nodded. “Yes. She, ah, really wants you to call her, I think.”

Lacey straightened her shoulders and smiled at him. “You can just chuck those in the trash. In fact, unless something important comes through, you don’t have to bring them up to me anymore. No need for a special trip. I think I got the gist yesterday.”

Galen took her hand and gave it an approving squeeze.

“If you insist, ma’am.” Jesus looked almost comically relieved and he tossed the pile in the garbage can behind the desk. “Now, for this evening, would you like to salsa, maybe?”

“God, no!” Lacey said with a violent shake of her head. “Too hard. Maybe just a little place where we can sway together and have a cocktail.”

“Let me give you a list of places.” He pulled out a sheet of paper and slid it over the counter. “Another thought is the dinner cruise. They have two each evening, and the second one is scheduled to leave in thirty minutes. People say good things about it, and it offers a little of everything. Gambling, entertainment, dinner, and a great view.”

Galen sent Lacey a questioning glance.

She nodded. “Sounds like fun, and it’s a beautiful night.”

Armed with directions, they made the fifteen-minute walk to the ship. It was small, large enough for maybe fifty people, but it was luxuriously appointed with teak railings that gleamed in the fading evening sunlight.

The host welcomed them onboard, then sat them for dinner with a wide smile. “Your waiter will be here with our cocktail specials and wine list in just a moment. Enjoy!”

They thanked him and settled into their cozy booth, taking in the view of the island from the water. The room was open on all sides, and a balmy breeze kicked up as the ship pulled away from the pier.

An hour, two beers, and a plate of guanimes later, Lacey paused with a spoonful of flan halfway to her lips, her brows raised in outrage.

“So that’s why Jimmy MacTurk called me Lacey Drawers.”

Her retelling of the childhood memory had him grinning. “That’s a pretty good reason for the nickname. I mean, if you’re going to go around flashing your bloomers at him.” He shrugged.

“I wasn’t flashing him! I was just riding on the seesaw. He was a little perv, is all.”

He laughed, and she joined him, dropping the mock annoyance. “I have so much fun with you,” she said softly.

He nodded and took her hand. “Right back at you.”

They stared stupidly at each other, grinning like fools, until their waiter came to take their plates.

“Good choice,” she said on a sigh. “This ship is really lovely.”

He stood and took her hand. “Shall we see what else it has to offer?”

“Definitely.”

Full from their meal, they took their time strolling the perimeter of the boat, stopping to greet other couples and take in the view. They passed a wide set of doors and a slow, sensual beat caught his ear. He tugged her toward it. “Maybe they have a band playing and we can do some dancing. Come on.”

She resisted, digging in her heels. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m a terrible dancer.”

“Well, I’m not, and I can teach you.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. My first trainer thought partnered dancing was a great tool to prep fighters. Learning how to lead, anticipating the move of your partner and all that, but it’s also great for stamina and balance. So I took some classes, and it stuck with me. At first I thought it was bullshit, but I think it’s actually helped me over the years.”

“Great, so you’ll look cool as usual. I’m going to look like an idiot, though. Your sister and I bop around and stuff at the clubs once in a while, but if you’re talking like the stuff they do in Dirty Dancing? I’m pretty sure my hips don’t move like that.” Her brow wrinkled the way it did when she got anxious, and he pressed a kiss to that spot.

“After the last ten hours, I can vouch for the fact that they definitely do.”

She rolled her eyes. “Not the same thing. But,” she said, sucking in a deep breath, “I’ll try it. As long as you promise if I hate it we can leave and try to find shuffleboard or something.”

“Deal.”

When he opened the door to the club, the song changed and Lacey visibly paled. “What is that, swing?” She froze. “I-I don’t know, Galen. Why don’t we just go sit on deck and enjoy the breeze?”

“No way. I want to spin you around and show you off. It’s going to be great,” he assured her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “We can watch for a while and you tell me when you’re ready. We can start with a slow song. Swaying, like you said.”

“Okay.” She allowed him to lead her through the wide entryway and down the red-carpeted steps into the large room. The lights were low and inviting, flickering off the teakwood bar and tables. A large dance floor loomed in the center of the room. Lacey stiffened beside him. It wasn’t very crowded. Maybe twenty milled around the edge, all seeming to wait for that one couple to take the leap first. Most were dressed similar to Lacey, with cocktail dresses or skirts, and men in sports jackets and jeans.

“Let’s sit and have a drink,” he said, pulling her over to a small table by the dance floor. Before the waitress had come to take their orders, the song that was playing ended, and the DJ called into the microphone.

“I want to thank everyone for coming out tonight to our ballroom dance night. Let’s keep things rolling with a cha-cha. Any beginners here? We have two dancers on staff who would be happy to teach anyone who’d like to learn.”

The small crowd chattered, but no one stepped up.

“You want a lesson from the pro?” he asked.

Lacey shook her head furiously. “No way. You said you would teach me.”

The DJ continued. “How about any intermediate dancers? Looking for a partner and want to dance with either Yesenia or Junior?” He gestured to an attractive pair seated next to the DJ booth who smiled and waved.

Lacey grabbed his arm and shook it hard. “Get up there. Go dance so I can at least see what I’m getting into.”

“I came to dance with you.”

“And you will, but I need a minute to settle down. Plus I’m a visual learner, and it will be easier for me to pick it up if I see it.” Her wide eyes pleaded with him.

“I know you’re only doing this to buy yourself some time, but don’t think you’re getting off the hook. You swear if I go up, you’ll dance with me next?”

She bit her lip then nodded. “Swear.”

An older woman had already scooped up Junior, and Yesenia turned to speak to the DJ when Galen called out. “I’ll give it a whirl.”

The dancer smiled and stood, gliding toward him, hips swaying like a Latin ballroom dancer’s should.

“Well, crap,” Lacey muttered.

“What’s the matter now?” he asked with a short laugh. “You’re the one who wanted me to do it.”

“Yeah, well, she didn’t look all that impressive sitting over there, but I didn’t realize she was going to be sex on a stick walking over here.”

“You want me to say no?”

Yesenia beckoned from the edge of the dance floor and Lacey blew out a sigh. “No, go ahead. Better her than me right now.”

The strains of “Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow” blared from the house speakers and, in spite of his bravado, he felt like a kid on his first day of school. Nervous, and hoping he had the goods to impress. “Here goes nothing.”

…

Galen had lied. He knew far more than the basics. They started with the standard old “One, two, cha-cha-cha,” but fairly quickly, Yesenia caught on to the fact that Galen was no beginner. And now? He and the sensual brunette were tearing up the floor. The crowd gathered around and even Junior and his partner stopped to watch. Galen was masterful, and his partner’s cheeks flushed with pleasure when he spun her around twice. Son of a gun, he was good. He executed a stunning lift and Yesenia laughed out loud. His body was so fit, he made it look easy, and jealousy reared its ugly head.

Lacey was sure she wouldn’t enjoy a second of this. It looked too impulsive, too unrestrained, too dangerous. Then, about halfway through, the dance sucked her in. The fact that Galen’s eyes met hers a dozen times, with a hint of challenge and a lot of promise, definitely helped. He was dancing with Yesenia, she of the well-oiled caboose, but he was dancing for Lacey.

The song ended, and the pair bowed to the audience’s applause. Yesenia thanked Galen and brought him back to the table.

“You are a very lucky woman,” she said with a smile, before sauntering off to find another partner.

“That was…amazing,” she admitted ruefully. “It’s ludicrous that a man your size, who beats up other men your size for a living, could move like that.”

“You like?” Galen held out a hand and grinned. “Well get in on this, then.”

She stared up into his smiling brown eyes, wanting so badly not to disappoint him, but she was almost paralyzed with fear. Her hands had gone icy cold and she couldn’t feel her lips. What if she made a total fool of herself? What if she fell on these cursed heels and broke her coccyx bone? A dozen excuses marched to the tip of her tongue, ready for deployment, when he cupped her chin in his big, warm hand.

“Hey. Stop this. I got you, okay?”

He caressed her cheek with his thumb and the fear began to melt. She wanted this. She wanted to be in Galen’s arms, hips swaying to the beat. She wanted him to twirl her and dip her and to shimmy her shoulders until his eyes popped out. And she was done not taking what she wanted.

She grabbed his hand and pulled him onto the far corner of the dance floor. “Teach me.”

“Rockin’ Robin” came on, and she stared up at Galen expectantly.

“Let’s jive, baby.”

They started off slow, and at first, she was aware of everyone around her. Were they looking? Laughing? But no sooner had she realized that no one was paying attention to her at all, that it no longer mattered. All that mattered was Galen, and the way he made her feel. When she stumbled, he caught her, holding on a little longer and a little tighter than he needed to. When she made a mistake, he showed her again, endlessly patient until she felt comfortable. By the end of the night, she’d gotten the hang of the basics of several dances and was ready to try for real, in the center of the floor. It felt like kismet when the last song was one she knew well.

“‘The Stroll.’ I love this song!” she said with a grin.

“Then we’d better get out there.” He led her to the middle of the floor and stepped back, leaving her in a line with six other women and taking his place next to their male counterparts. Although they were apart, stepping and sliding in their respective rows, his eyes never left hers. The heat of his gaze made her feel beautiful, so she tossed her hair back and put a little extra sway in her hips. By the time it was their turn to meet in the middle, she was desperate for his touch. He cupped her waist, and their hips rocked together, perfectly synchronized, as they strolled down the center of the floor.

Every so often, accidentally on purpose, she brushed her breast to his chest or her thigh against his, and the hand on her waist would tighten, his eyes going dark. The power was heady, and she wielded it with glee.

When the song ended, they stopped to applaud the other dancers, breathless and smiling. It hadn’t been flawless, but it was perfect and she felt like she was dancing on air. If this time was all they could ever have, she would always be grateful to at least have these memories. She rose on her tiptoes and kissed him hard on the mouth. “Thank you,” she whispered.

…

The next five days with Galen were heaven. The next five nights? Heaven during Mardi Gras. Overtly sensual, steamy, and totally erotic. No matter how many times they did it, their lovemaking was mind-blowing. Galen seemed driven to take her to new heights and his hunger was insatiable.

They’d fallen into a routine of waking early and going to the main resort for a workout. He taught her how to jump rope, and she taught him Pilates, although the latter had prompted them to cut their workout short when he requested a private lesson in the nude.

Her favorite thing, though, was watching him shadowbox. After his weight training, he always went into a corner and started swinging. She would be on the elliptical machine, peering from beneath her lashes while he dipped and turned, bobbed and weaved, rocking forward on the balls of his feet. He wasn’t a brawler like so many thick fighters were, rolling their shoulders and crabbing flat-footed around the ring, on the hunt for a chance to land that one stunning blow. He was a boxer, quick, sharp, always moving, sticking, and jabbing. The commentators liked to say that, by the time Whalin’ Galen knocked out his opponents, they were likely glad for the respite. He was beautiful to watch and moved with such fluidity, such grace, it wasn’t until he stood next to a mortal man that his size became apparent.

During the third workout, she finally got the nerve to ask him. “Will you show me?”

He swiped a muscled forearm over his sweaty brow and gave her a lethal grin. “Darlin’, I’m not sure what you’re referring to, but I can’t imagine saying no to anything you want to see.”

His words sent a thrill through her, and she tamped back the urge to blurt, Seriously? Why me? The words seemed to be ever-present on the tip of her tongue. Still, she managed to keep it in because the answer wouldn’t change anything. He could’ve had a fling with anyone on the island, but he’d picked her. In this magical place, at this magical moment, she had found happiness, and she was going to hold on with both fists until it was over.

“I want to learn how to box.”

When his smile broadened, she congratulated herself for finally speaking up.

“For real?”

“Yeah. I’ve been watching forever but never thought about it as a workout. I’d really like to learn.”

He cocked his head to the side. “After all the years we’ve known each other, I can’t get over how you continue to surprise me.” His dark eyes held hers captive. “I’ve never had a woman interested in my career before, aside from the celebrity of it. I gotta tell you, it’s very sexy.”

Warmth spread through her whole body, as if she’d turned to face the sun. “Teach me. I want to know everything.”

He chuckled, and she rushed to correct herself. “I mean, I know we don’t have a lot of time, but whatever you can show me in a week.” The last thing she wanted was for him to think he was going to have to let her down easy once they went back home. She might be naive in some aspects, but she wasn’t a total rube. When they went back to Rhode Island, they would be leaving this behind. The thought was like an eclipse, sapping the warmth of the sun away. She shoved it aside in a rush.

Galen rubbed his hands together and grinned. “I am so down with this plan; I can’t wait to start. We’ll see if we can’t find a sporting goods store to get me some punch mitts and you some wraps and little gloves. It’s going to be a blast.”

She drew back. “I just meant fooling around here. I didn’t know we needed stuff for it. You don’t need to go through all that trouble for me.”

He shook his head with a frown. “When are you going to get it, Lacey? You’re worth the trouble. You deserve to be around people who want to do things for you and make you smile.” His face softened and he pulled her in for a hug. “Besides, this isn’t for you, it’s for both of us. I’m really looking forward to it.”

She held him tightly, reveling in the clean sweat smell of him, until he reached down and smacked her on the ass.

“In fact, let’s start now. I’ll teach you some moves. Come on.” He stepped back an arm’s length. “First thing, let’s get your stance right. You’re a southpaw, right?”

“Well, I’ve never punched anyone before, but I write with my left hand, yes.”

“Okay, so usually you stand in front of a mirror for this part, but since you’re a southpaw and I’m not, I can be your mirror.” He waggled his brows at her and she smiled. “Start in athletic position, feet shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent.”

She did as he said and then looked up at him. “Like this?”

“Close, but not flat like that. Get up on the balls of your feet, get a little movement going.”

She tried to mimic him, bouncing on her toes, but she felt like a total idiot and stopped. “I don’t think I—”

“That was great, come on. Keep doing it.”

She did, reluctantly at first, but more enthusiastically at his approving grin.

“Nice. Watch me, and do what I do.”

He moved his right foot back a step, swiveling his hips at a forty-five-degree angle and she followed suit.

“Nope,” he said, reaching out to pat her thigh. “I’m your mirror. I put my right foot back and lead with my left. You do the opposite. Like a mirror, got it?”

She switched feet and waited for his next command.

“And don’t stop bouncing, gotta keep it moving. Good. You’re still too straight on, though. Tilt your hips more, get almost sideways. Stand like you were, and you’re a wall, just waiting to get hit. Get on the angle and you’re a much smaller target.” He twisted to show her, exaggerating the move, and flashing his tight butt for the second before he turned back to her.

She twisted until her stance matched his. “Good?”

“Beautiful.” He lifted his left hand up and made a loose fist. “Lift your right up. Not so high. You’re blocking your line of sight. Put it right below eye level. That way you’re covering most of your face, but you can see what you’re aiming at and what’s coming.”

She dropped her hand down a little.

“Good. That’s your jabbing hand. A jab is the feeler punch. A tester. The soldier you send out to get the lay of the land. Tire the other guy out some, keep them guessing. Now put up the left. This one’s going to be level with your chin, elbow more bent and closer to your body.”

She followed his lead and sent him a questioning glance.

“Right. This is your power punching hand. The mac daddy. The haymaker. It’s cocked and ready to fire, like a piston. The strength of your whole body will be behind it, but because you expend so much energy to throw, you have to limit it. Make every single one count. You ready to throw some punches?”

His biceps bunched and gleamed with sweat and she tore her gaze away to meet his. What she saw there nearly took her breath away. The boyish smile, his face lit up in the best way…a swell of emotion rolled through her, so strong she wanted to throw herself in his arms and beg him to never let her go. Instead she nodded. “Let’s do it.”

“The most important weapon in boxing is the jab. There isn’t a truly great fighter out there, alive or dead, who didn’t have an effective jab. You want to skip a step forward with your right foot, getting a little of your body behind it when you let that fist snap out, okay? When the fist comes back, so should the foot.”

His hand flicked out, so fast it was a blur. She dropped her hands and jumped back.

“Never put your hands down. Come on, I wasn’t even close to you. Get back in here. You try.”

She tried to put it all together, bounce, fist at eye level, step forward, let her hand fly—

“Not bad! But don’t let it linger like that. You leave it out there, you’re wide open to a right cross. You’d get your block knocked off. Fast, like a viper.” He took her wrist and guided her, snapping her fist against his palm hard and quickly pulling it back.

She repeated the motion alone, and this time he barked out a laugh. “Woo-hoo, baby girl! That’s what I’m talking about. You’re like lightning. But we gotta get a little something behind it.”

“You said this was the feeler punch. I thought—”

“Right. But every punch should come with bad intentions and the jab is no different. Whether it’s to disarm or disorient, you’ve got to make sure there’s enough juice behind it to make your opponents take notice. If not, they won’t need to expend any energy worrying about it, and your odds of getting off a real clock-cleaner when they aren’t looking shrink exponentially.”

And so it went. He was a patient and thorough teacher, which was no surprise given his demeanor in the bedroom, but he was also demanding. It had brought out the best in her. He’d complimented her on her speed and agility more than once, swearing that she was a natural. Her nerves and the initial fear of looking foolish disappeared and her confidence soared. She’d had the time of her life, and an hour later they’d fallen into a happy, exhausted heap on the floor, promising to do it again the next day.

They went upstairs to shower, and she’d just taken hers when there was a knock at the door. “Did you order room service?” she called into the bathroom to Galen. He must not have heard her over the spray because he didn’t respond. She shrugged and crossed the room to open the front door.

Cat stood there, decked out in a sundress and floppy hat. Her green eyes sparkled, and she tossed her hat in the air with a shout. “Woo-hoo! Good morning, Puerto Rico-oh-oh!” She dropped her suitcase to drag Lacey in for a bear hug.

“Holy crap,” she said, limp with shock as her friend attempted to squeeze her guts out. “What are you doing here?”

“I figured you had a whole week left, and my brother was probably driving you crazy by now. I finished up my project at the office and thought I’d come save you and work on my tan. Awesome, no?” She pulled back, beaming with excitement.

She was right about one thing. Galen was driving her crazy. All night, every night. As glad as she was to see her friend, a big part of her was heartsick over the loss of alone time with Galen. She’d been banking on that week, counting and recounting the hours like a miser with his chest of gold, and now it was gone, just like that. Surely Galen wouldn’t want his sister to know what they’d been up to. That would make it too real, and this was nothing more than a fantasy.

Her throat felt thick, and she fought to find a smile for her best friend in the world. “Awesome is right. I’m so happy you’re here.” She grabbed Cat’s suitcase and pulled her into the villa. “How was your flight?”

“Long but super smooth, thanks. I’m starving, though. What’s with this five hours in the air and no in-flight meal crap? Is that a new thing?” She dropped onto the couch with a grateful sigh. “I was ready to give myself to the pilot for another sad little bag of nuts.”

“Who are you kidding? You’re a sucker for a man in uniform. I think the peanuts would’ve been optional.”

Cat snort-laughed and nodded. “You’re probably right. I didn’t get a look at him, though, so I can’t say for sure.” She held out a handful of papers. “These are for you. The chubby little guy at the front desk asked me to bring them.”

Lacey rolled her eyes. “Awesome.”

“What are they?”

“Notes from my mother. Whoever is at the front desk probably didn’t get the memo that I don’t want them. Other than these? It’s been great. We don’t have phone or Internet here, and she hasn’t been able to get her paws on Galen’s cell number, so she’s taken to calling the front desk with scathing messages for me.” She tossed them, unread, onto the coffee table.

Galen sauntered into the room in a pair of threadbare gym shorts, scrubbing his damp hair with a towel. “Hey, did you see where my camera w—” His eyes bugged out a little when his sister stood. “Holy shit, what are you doing here, runt?” Although he sounded happy to see her, there was a split second where his face dropped.

Lacey’s heart felt a little lighter for it. Maybe he wasn’t quite ready to let go, either.

“Came to check on my girl and make sure you weren’t boring her to tears with sports talk or driving her to drink with your terrible jokes.”

He slung the towel over his shoulder, leaving his bare chest and eight-pack abs in plain view. “Let’s ask her. Am I boring you to tears yet, squirt?” There was no mistaking the challenge in his voice. As if he were daring her to tell Cat exactly what had been going on between them.

She swallowed hard and shook her head. “N-not really. We’ve been…sparring.”

He grinned and nodded slowly, still not breaking eye contact with her. “We have been doing that.”

Cat whipped her head toward Lacey, then to Galen, and back again before she held up a hand. She made a noise that sounded either like a muffled scream or like the squeal of tires coming to a halt. “Hold up.” She wrinkled her nose as if she’d just been handed week-old fish stuffed inside the dirty tube sock of a teenage boy. “You two are… Are you? Oh, ew. Just…just f*cking ew.” She speared her hands into her copper-colored hair and blew out a sigh. “When?”

“What do you mean, when?” Galen asked, chuckling. “Last night. The night before. The night before that. This morning.” He’d ticked off each instance on his fingers and sent Lacey a broad wink at the last one. She groaned and buried her face in her hands.

“I meant,” Cat said, enunciating crisply while treating her brother to a death stare, “when did it start, moron.”

Galen shrugged, the picture of nonchalance as he made his way into the kitchen. “Last week. When we found out Lacey wasn’t really married.” He ignored her outraged gasp and started taking out fixings for a ham sandwich.

Cat wheeled on Lacey. “A week? You’ve been boning my brother for a week and you didn’t think to mention it? Sisters before misters, remember, Lace? We’re supposed to tell each other everything.”

The hurt in her voice made Lacey feel like gum on the bottom of a shoe and she scrambled to explain. “We didn’t come here with this in mind. It just sort of…happened.”

“Oh, geez, now you sound like Marty. You don’t bang someone by accident.” Lacey opened her mouth to clarify, but Cat cut her off. “Nope. I don’t need to hear any more. It doesn’t matter. You’re both adults, and you have the right to do what you want with whom you want, no matter how much it grosses me out. I wish you had told me when it first happened, though.”

Lacey nodded miserably. What was there to say? Cat was right. They’d never had secrets between them before. How could she explain that what she was experiencing with Galen felt so tenuous, so fragile that she was afraid even the slightest disturbance would make it disappear? That the time they had was so short and precious, she didn’t want to waste a second of it on the telephone justifying it. But she couldn’t say either of those things because Galen was in the room with them, and he didn’t deserve that kind of pressure from her.

“We should have said something. And if we planned to continue with this in our real lives, we likely would have, but this stays in Puerto Rico. Once we’re home, everything goes back to normal,” Lacey said, trying with all her might to sound brisk and matter-of-fact. A statement, not a question, because that would be pitiful. She could almost feel the weight of Galen’s heavy gaze on her. Back to normal. Why did that sound so God awful now? Maybe because normal meant no making love on the kitchen counter. No snuggling up on the beach to watch the sunset. No boxing until the sweat stung her eyes and her heart felt like it was going to pound out of her chest.

Normal meant no Galen.

“So this is purely sexual?” Cat asked, the curl of her lip revealing her feelings on the subject.

Galen fielded that one. “You know what it is? None of your business. Now quit grilling Lacey and get unpacked. I’ll make you a sandwich, and then we can figure out our plans for the rest of the day.”

Cat allowed Lacey to lead her into the guest room. When Lacey closed the door behind them, Cat turned to face her. “You don’t blame me for being shocked, do you? I mean, I always knew there was some weird attraction between you two, but I never saw this coming.” She sank back on the bed with a dazed shake of her head.

“Weird attraction? On my end, maybe, but he went out of his way to torture me.”

“As teenage boys do when they like someone.”

“I don’t think so, Cat.”

“That’s okay. We do better when you let me do the thinking for you, and I’m telling you that he didn’t treat my other friends that way.”

“Oh yeah? How did he treat them?” She busied herself straightening the pillows on the bed, as if the answer didn’t matter in the least, but her hands were shaking. If Galen liked her before, maybe there was a chance…

“Like they were invisible, mostly. Like Becca.”

Lacey couldn’t help the flinch.

“I know. She’s a buddy-f*cker and I’m thinking of making a voodoo doll of her. Sorry I mentioned her name. But he never gave her the time of day. He wasn’t that way with you. He teased you a lot, but it was never mean-spirited, you know? There always seemed to be affection behind it.” She tugged at Lacey’s arm to stop her fussing. “If it matters any, you have my blessing. I’m still trying to get my head around it all, but I love you guys to heaven and back, and as long as you both feel the same way about each other, I think it would be really cool. You guys being a couple.”

She realized then that, even without Galen in the room, telling Cat about her growing feelings toward him was not an option. Already Cat was investing too much into it, and if things didn’t work out, and she knew how Lacey felt, she’d be mad at him. That wasn’t fair to Galen at all. He’d never made any promises or given her false hope for a future together. It was better for Cat to think she felt the same way he did. “I appreciate that, truly, but we’re not… It’s not like that. We haven’t talked about anything beyond the next week. He was here when I needed someone, and he opened my eyes about a lot of things. But his goal was to help me through a tough time, and he did that. I already owe him more than you could ever imagine.”

Cat’s eyes narrowed. “Really? You’re trying to tell me you slept with someone you have no feelings for?”

Lacey couldn’t bring herself to lie outright, so she worded her answer carefully. “I’m trying to tell you that this was an impulse. The result of two people in an emotionally charged situation. I know what I think I feel, but I have no idea what I’m going to feel like when we leave here, and neither does he. I also have a huge mess to look forward to when I get home. I have no right to expect him to want to muck out those stalls with me. That’s not what he signed up for.”

“I guess that remains to be seen. I’ve never known Galen to run from a little hard work.” Cat eyed Lacey for a long moment before lugging her suitcase over to the dresser and unpacking. “I was going to ask if I should get another place to stay so you two could have some privacy, but there will be two solid doors between us, so that won’t be an issue. Besides, that will give me the daytime hours to satisfy my nosiness and watch how you guys act around each other. This is too juicy to miss.”

“We’re not going to act like anything around each other.” Now that Cat was here, everything was probably going to go right back to the way it was. He might not even want to share the bedroom with her anymore. She swallowed the bitter disappointment threatening to choke her. “I’m sure Galen and I will figure it out. No matter what, it will work out fine. Now let’s stop talking about this. You came all the way here to be with me, and I love you for it, so what are we going to do on your first night in Puerto Rico?”

Cat seemed ready to press further, but mercifully, she let her off the hook. “Karaoke, maybe? Some dancing?”

“Sounds fun. We can hang at the beach for the day. Then I’ll call the concierge and see where to go.”

She was about to step out the door but Cat’s voice stopped her. “I don’t know whether it’s the Puerto Rican air or my brother, but you’ve never looked better.”

Lacey forced a smile and closed the door. Cat had always been perceptive, and today was no different. Now that it was right in her face, she had to accept the truth. Puerto Rico, while amazing, had next to nothing to do with her current state. It was Galen. He’d made her feel special and sexy and beautiful. And if that were the case, what would she feel like when he was out of her life again?

…

Galen took a long swig from his beer bottle and watched his sister and her best friend on the dance floor, bopping around, singing along with an old Spice Girls tune. Lacey wore a short-sleeve blouse that hung off one newly browned shoulder and a pair of khaki shorts. Her beige high-heeled sandals made her already long legs look even longer, and he found himself wondering, not for the first time, if he’d ever get to feel those legs around him again now that Cat had shown up.

He loved his sister and under normal circumstances enjoyed hanging out with her now that they were grown. But he couldn’t deny that when he’d walked out of the shower and saw her standing there, his stomach dropped. What a crappy brother. She’d probably thought she was doing him a favor by coming to take over aftercare for their ailing runaway bride. How could she know he was administering the antidote and enjoying every second of it?

At least, he had been right up until Lacey sent him that panicked look. The wild-eyed, don’t say anything stare when he’d seen Cat. That shit hurt. If he’d been wondering what was going to happen between them once they left Puerto Rico, he needn’t wonder any further. Clearly she planned to move on with her life, and their fling would be exactly that. A fling. One happy footnote to mark the end of her tragedy, not even worthy of explaining to her best friend.

He almost let her get away with it, but at the last second, he couldn’t help himself. He’d thrown down the gauntlet to see if she would try to wriggle out of it or if she would own it. Own him and this thing between them. To his relief, she had. She’d been embarrassed but more for not telling his sister about them before than anything else. She certainly didn’t seem angry at him, which was what he’d been expecting. Then she’d deflated him yet again with her insistence that this was a fling. Now he was f*ck-all confused. Were they going to continue on with Cat there or were they calling it quits? He’d been banking on this week in hopes of convincing Lacey that they could have something more than just a fling. Now he might not even have that.

The song ended and he flagged down the waitress to order them another round.

The aging MC leaned into the mic. “Okay, ladies and gentlemen, this is going to be a fun one. We’ve got some new singers coming up here for you. Give it up for Cat and Lacey!”

The pair of them climbed the stage stairs and the beginning chords of “Two Princes” by the Spin Doctors began to play. Galen couldn’t help but grin. He’d been forced to listen to this song on an endless loop when Cat and Lacey had discovered it almost two decades ago. This was going to be interesting.

Within the first two lines, as they traded back and forth with ease, never even glancing at the screen, it became clear that this song was a karaoke favorite of theirs. They hammed it up big and broke into interpretive dance at points. Galen couldn’t keep his eyes off Lacey. Her shoulders shimmying, cheeks pink from laughing. Cat was a good influence on her. When they finished with a deep bow, the place exploded into applause. He stuck his pinkies into his mouth and whistled for good measure.

The girls smiled and waved, then leaped off the stage. The group of guys seated at the table in front of him was hooping and howling when the two women walked by. A dark-haired gym rat went in for a move.

“Great job, ladies.” He held up a hand for high fives, which Lacey and Cat gave with matching grins.

A wiry blond guy from the group stood with his hand over his heart and spoke with a thick Boston accent. “If you were with me, I’d love you so hard, you wouldn’t need two princes. I’d be your king and you’d be my queen.” His line was laughably bad, but apparently the accent turning “hard” into “hahd” was enough to get their attention. He drew Cat and Lacey into a conversation about hometowns and New England.

The waitress returned with their drinks, and Galen uttered a perfunctory thanks. Blondie and his wingman were starting to get on his nerves now, lavishing Lacey and Cat with compliments. The next song had begun, so he had to inch closer to hear them.

“You are so beautiful, I swear. If I had a girl like you, I could die a happy man.” This aimed at Lacey from Gym Rat.

She smiled politely, but then turned and caught Galen’s eye. Was that a plea in her eyes or was it wishful thinking on his part? At the very least, she didn’t want any PDA in front of Cat, or at least that’s what it had seemed like back at the villa. But when Gym Rat closed a meaty paw on her shoulder, nothing short of a zombie apocalypse would have stopped him. Galen picked up the beer he’d ordered her and approached, slipping a possessive arm around her trim waist. “Hey, squirt. Nice job out there.”

Lacey turned a grateful smile his way and accepted the bottle. “Thanks.”

Gym Rat gave him the hard eye, and for a second Galen wondered if he was going to press his luck, but he backed off. “Hey buddy, how’s it going?” he asked, releasing Lacey’s shoulder.

“Pretty good, thanks.”

Galen had obviously shat on their party plans because after an awkward minute of mostly silence, the Boston guys dispersed, making their way to the pool table.

“Thanks,” Lacey said, the relief evident on her face. “I never quite know what to do in those situations.”

“Well, don’t expect me to thank you for cock-blocking me,” Cat grumbled. “You come over here to pee on your girlfriend like some sort of lone wolf and you scared my prospect away with your macho display.”

“I’m not his girlfriend,” Lacey mumbled.

As if he needed the reminder. “She looked uncomfortable.” He shrugged as if to say he’d do it for anybody.

“Whatever. Did you at least get me a drink?”

He jerked his chin toward the table where her mojito sat, and she grabbed it. “These things are too delicious, which could be a serious problem.”

They paused to clap for the group of ladies who’d done a Sinatra song. When the applause died down, the MC bent toward the mic again. “Welcome back to the stage, Lacey, going solo this time!”

She turned a stricken gaze to Cat. “You didn’t.”

“Oh, but I did. Come on, I came all the way here to be with you. The least you can do is sing my song.”

Lacey groaned. “Stop with the guilt. It’s not like you followed me to Siberia. We’re in paradise, and you’re getting a weeklong vacation. That doesn’t mean you get to boss me for the next seven days.”

“Who are you kidding? I boss you three hundred sixty-five days a year, and you love it. Now get your cute little ass up there and sing my song.”

She sent a nervous glance at Galen and he tapped the tip of her nose with his finger. “You’ll be great.”

She took a long swallow of her beer, setting it down only when the MC started playfully chanting her name, which the crowd took up with glee.

“She’s actually a fantastic singer,” Cat said as they watched Lacey climb the stage stairs again. “I always have to go up with her at first to lube her up a little, but wait till you hear what she can do.”

The strains of a familiar song by Heart made him smile. She, Becca, and Cat had put on a show for him and the rest of the family when they were in second grade. They’d danced and lip-synced to this song with spoons for microphones. Even then, Becca and Lacey had swayed in the background, chirping up during the chorus while Cat hogged the attention, strutting her stuff. He’d acted put upon and annoyed, as was required at that age, but they’d been pretty adorable.

Grown-up Lacey opened her mouth, and as a sweet, husky tone rang from her throat, the smile slid from his face. It was like a full-on body shot. A solid blow to the solar plexus that had him short of breath. She didn’t just sing, she left it all out there, feeling every line…every word of it. When she sang about wanting and waiting, it was so real, it gave him chills. And when she claimed she never really cared until she met him, it felt like every word was for him. He managed to tear his gaze away for a second only to realize that every other guy in the place felt the same way he did.

Captivated.

During the guitar solo, Cat turned to grin at him. “And this, dear brother, is why we come to karaoke. It’s the one place where she really lets it all out, you know?”

He nodded, still dazed.

His sister’s face turned serious, and she closed a gentle hand over his forearm. “That look on her face when she sings? It’s the same expression she gets when she talks about you. When we were getting ready to come here she was telling me about the boxing lessons, your almost-orgy, and all the fun stuff you’ve been doing. And she was…glowing.” Cat’s green gaze locked onto his with the intensity of a laser beam, and her grip tightened. “Do not f*ck with her. She’s fragile right now. I love you, but I will cut your heart out. Understand what I’m saying, bro?”

He nodded and tugged his arm from his sister’s claw before she did some damage. “I hear you loud and clear.”

He wondered if she’d given Lacey the same speech. Probably. But at the end of the day, it was Lacey and him who needed to figure out what, if anything, came next. His instinct was to push. He knew he wanted more time with her. He wasn’t ready to let go yet. And if Cat’s intuition was right, neither was Lacey. But she’d literally been a bride only a week ago. After what she’d been through, fragile was putting it mildly. Confused, scared, shocked, betrayed. She was a writhing mass of emotion when they’d first gotten to Puerto Rico. Just because she seemed okay now didn’t mean there weren’t deeper issues at play. Even if she did feel like this could be more than a fling, could her feelings even be trusted?

Rebound.

He’d tried to keep it at bay, but the term reared its ugly head and burrowed its way further into his mind, digging its hooks deep. If he were on the outside looking in, he’d call it from a mile away. He’d say, “Don’t get attached, man. You’re the rebound guy.” It didn’t feel that way with Lacey, though. It felt real and right. Then again, what rebound guy ever knew he was the rebound guy until it was over and he was left standing there with his dick in his hand and a sleepy, confused smile on his face?

F*ck, he so didn’t want that to be him.

The last note rang out and the audience went crazy, chanting her name and howling their approval. She picked her way through the crowd, stopping every few steps to give high fives to her new fans and politely shake her head—probably offers of drinks, though one appeared to be a proposal. She caught him staring and blushed, sending a beaming smile his way that warmed him clear through.

And just like that, it was decided. He might be the rebound guy right now, but there was no way he was going out like that. It was time to do what he did best.

Fight for what he wanted.