Trip led the tour upstairs where there were three, slightly newer, slightly brighter bedrooms and, thank God, another full bath that looked somewhat clean.
He gestured toward the larger room, the one that faced the beach. I could see the pinwheeled balcony through the double sliders and figured it must be the master bedroom. Before I could even think of calling dibs, Trip said, “Forget it. Pick already won the coin toss.”
He dropped my bag in the middle room, and said, “This is you. And that-” he added, pointing to the room directly next to it, “-is me.”
I could see him fighting a smile, probably envisioning all the many ways he was planning on corrupting me throughout the weekend.
He gave a small bow and said, “I hope you’ll enjoy your stay with us, Miss Warren. Please feel free to utilize my services at any time, at any hour. I am available to attend to your, ah, every need twenty-four-seven. Even in the middle of the night.” He stepped closer and ran his hands down my arms, looking right through me with half-lidded eyes and smirked out, “Especially in the middle of the night...”
I just shook my head and kissed him lightly on the lips. I was mentally going over the room assignments when I realized our group was short by one. “Hey, where’s Cooper?”
Trip’s face took on a scowl. “Layla, seriously?”
“What?” I asked, even though I had suddenly realized how bad my question must have sounded to Trip’s ears. I guessed it was probably kind of weird and uncomfortable for him, having to spend the following days under the same roof as my ex. My sympathy was followed-I’m ashamed to admit-by the thrill of realizing that he was actually a little jealous about the whole thing.
It was almost comical, the way his shoulders drooped, making him look wholly deflated, and, I might add, completely adorable.
“I just offer you an invitation to basically steal my virtue, and while you’re kissing me, that’s when you decide it’s the best time to ask me about another guy? Jeez, Lay, talk about dejection.”
It was the “steal my virtue” line that let me know he wasn’t really upset. Otherwise, everything else from the look on his face to the tone in his voice would have made me think he was one-hundred-percent serious. Pulling a DeNiro on me.
I started to try and match his serious delivery, but I started laughing before I even got out one single word. Trip finally cracked, too, before I threw my arms around his shoulders and said, “Maybe you’d better try harder to keep me focused on you.” As if that was ever a problem.
He was still laughing as he said, “Oh, yeah?” and dropped his face to mine for a kiss.
I could tell it was gonna be one hell of a weekend.
Chapter 28
PRISONERS OF THE SUN
Cooper, as it turned out, had been on the beach with Becca Bradley all morning. As Trip, Lisa, Pick and I made our way down to them, Heather Ferrante was walking up from the water. Huh. I didn’t even know they were coming.
“Hey, everyone,” Coop yelled in greeting. “We saved you a spot.”
We laughed as we set up our chairs and blankets on the nearly vacant beach. There were only a few other people along our stretch of sand, and barely more than that walking the boards. Even though it was a sweltering hot, sun-shiny day, the official season didn’t really kick off until the first week of July. Most kids didn’t get out of school for another two weeks, so we practically had the whole town to ourselves. One of the very few perks of a Catholic education.
“Oh, hey, Coop!” I yelled three people down. “Pick made you guys some lunch.” I twisted around to grab the small cooler behind my chair and passed it over Trip to Heather. Trip, of course, used the opportunity to try and steal a peek down my coverup. When he finally raised his eyes, I gave him a look that let him know he’d been busted. He grinned shamelessly, but before he could offer commentary, I stood up, facing his chair.
Coop and the girls were busy rifling through the cooler while Lisa and Pick looked as though they were in the middle of some sort of heated argument. I unzipped my white, terrycloth coverup and let it fall into the sand.
Ha! Trip stopped grinning.
I was wearing a lethal turquoise bikini that was scarcely more than four triangles held together with string. It was barely swimming season, but I’d managed to get in the occasional lap over the past few weeks. I was pretty pleased with the way my toned bod remembered to come back after a winter of neglect. Plus, I was rockin’ some serious boobage in that bikini top.
Trip noticed.
I pretended to be oblivious as I sat back down on my chair, adjusted the armrests to recline and tipped my head toward the sun.
I heard Trip’s chair creak a mere second before I felt his breath near my face, but still I kept my eyes closed.
His low whisper against my ear caused a tingle along my skin as he spat out through clenched teeth, “Jesus Christ, Lay.”