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“If the stock market’s up, he’ll drone on about his portfolio, but otherwise, he’s pretty quiet. A workaholic. He’s senior vice president of something or other at a medical insurance company, so he earns plenty. Five bucks says he mentions the size of his bonus before dessert tomorrow. Then Stu will start talking about cryptocurrency—which he doesn’t really understand, by the way—and they’ll get into a financial dick-measuring contest. With any luck, we can slide off and no one will notice.”
And then we could have our own dick-measuring contest. Hawk’s dick, my tongue, and a whole night to do whatever we pleased without him rolling out of bed and disappearing back to his lair.
That was, if I could still move after tonight’s efforts. Past performance suggested that could be an issue, and if we were sharing a bed, I couldn’t imagine Hawk turning over and going to sleep before he’d given me at least two orgasms. In some ways, he was incredibly generous.
The ferry chugged closer to the shore. Closer to impending doom.
“The kitchen closes at nine, but Odette arranged sandwiches and snacks for any latecomers. The staff will bring them to our room after we arrive.”
“You think we’ll see your family tonight?”
“Gosh, I hope not.”
Hawk glanced ahead at the island. “Maybe I could just scale the wall and hop over the balcony?”
“Don’t you dare leave me to face them alone, Kellan.”
He sighed. “Point taken.”
* * *
The island hadn’t changed much since I last set foot there. The dock was a little more weathered, although the collection of construction materials—stacked lumber, piles of stone pavers, and metal girders—suggested repairs were underway in the area.
I took a deep breath as we approached the hotel. Hawk hadn’t laughed when I climbed into the back seat and swapped my tight black jeans and plum sweater for a knee-length pastel sundress, and I’d finished off the look with white ballet flats, a flowery hair clip, and a swipe of iridescent lipstick. Why didn’t I stick with my regular clothes, you ask? Because three years ago when I’d worn a skater dress to my aunt and uncle’s pearl anniversary party, Mom had told me to stop dressing like a teenager. Apparently, I was too old to wear short dresses now. Oh, and jeans weren’t ladylike. I disagreed with both sentiments, but I also hated being criticised in front of an audience, so today, I changed my outfit.
Out with comfort, in with country-club chic.
Five months had passed since I’d last seen any of my family in person—was this sense of dread normal? The more time I spent away from them, the harder it was to pretend.
Hawk backed the truck into a parking space and when I looked around, I spotted my parents’ Audi and Stu’s SUV near the entrance, and a row farther back, Buckley’s vanity plate—BFARBER—on a brand-new Mercedes. With any luck, they’d gone to bed already. Wait a second… I was an analyst. I didn’t need to rely on luck.
Hawk was halfway out the door, but I grabbed his hand.
“Hold on a second.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I need to check something. Where’s my laptop?”
Two minutes later, I studied the blobs on Blackwood’s phone-tracking app. I’d zoomed in on the hotel, and working on the assumption that my family were carrying their phones around with them, my parents had retired to their room in the east wing, Clarice was sitting on her balcony, and Odette was in the bar.
“Could we just wait here for a short while? Odette can’t hold her liquor, so she’ll go to bed soon.”
“What if she’s drinking soda?”
“Wait a moment…” I quickly navigated through the hotel’s billing system. “Okay, five minutes ago, she charged a mug of cocoa with extra whipped cream to the bridal suite. Guess she wants to avoid a hangover on her big weekend.”
Hawk chuckled softly to himself. “That’s my girl. Always playing detective.”
“Sure beats playing housewife. Anyhow, we just need to sit here for half an hour max, and then we can sneak right up to our room.” I settled back to wait, but Hawk started the engine. “Hey, what are you doing?”
“Moving to a darker spot.”
“Why would you—” He ran a fingertip along the inside of my thigh, and heat flooded through me. “Oh.”
“Oh?”
“Technically, I’m still mad at you. Tell me you apologised to Kellan?”
