It’s not long before the sun dries me off, the glistening heat on my shoulders, warming me through,
making me feel lazy and forgetting all about his smoldering looks. We walk a fair bit and skim pebbles
on the waves; easy, quiet companionship. I find so many beautiful shells to take home for Sarah and
we pass the time with small talk, about Sophie, about work. I never realized how easily we blend when
we’re just chilling out. It’s natural, unforced, and we talk about everything from current events, and
movies, to what we think is happening on the boat in our absence. I like it; I think he’s right. We needed
this. We needed this time to chill and relax with each other again, remove all the pent-up frustration and
agitation. Rebuild our easy friendship. I needed this to let go of all the Chicago crap.
“Here, Emma.” I turn back and he hands me his shades again, now the sun has moved higher in the
sky. I was shielding my eyes without even realizing. I smile and put them on noting they have a crazy
rubber band thing across the back that holds them to your head when swimming. I guess that’s how he
kept them on his head on the swim over here and I give him a grateful smile.
“Thanks.” I accept gratefully as he throws another pebble into the water, looking at me oddly. I can’t
help but notice the expression, but I can’t decipher it.
“What is it?” I tilt my head to watch him.
“You seem a bit more relaxed now we’re over here.” That’s an understatement; being away from over-
sexed women with lusty gazes certainly takes the edge off the atmosphere. I am regretting not coming
on this trip as just the two of us. I think I would have preferred it.
“I feel more relaxed,” I answer lightly, without explanation.
“You look it.” He skims another stone, like an expert. I watch him, catch his smile, and return it.
“I’m glad you made me come.” Hard to admit but he was right.
“I’m glad I didn’t have to force you.” His smile turns mocking and that little eyebrow raises as dimples
appear.
“Technically, you gave me no choice.” I frown back at him.
“You always have a choice with me, Emma, you know that.” His voice is gentle. Irony without meaning
it. He has no clue how overbearing he can be sometimes. I just laugh and shake my head in
exasperation.
Sure, I do, Carrero.
“We should be getting back; the others will think we don’t like them.” He’s watching me, and I can’t help
but notice the way the sun glistens on his skin, shadows falling under prominent muscles, making him
look all the more chiseled.
Yes, we should.
“Sure, I’m kinda hungry too.” I pull off his eyewear to hand them over. Following him to the shore to
wade out until the water lifts our feet from the bottom and break into a swim behind him.
We swim back leisurely, and he stays close to me; I think he’s worried I won’t have the stamina to do it,
but I prove him wrong. It’s exhausting, but all those sessions in the gym lately, the early morning
jogging, has been doing me wonders. I’m glad that I prepared my beach body ahead of time, without
knowing I needed it. It makes lounging with Jake, in barely any clothes, less mortifying.
* * *
We spend lunch on deck with the rest of the party, eating chicken Caesar salad and drinking wine,
relaxing on the padded double loungers on the main deck. Jake’s beside me, leaning toward Daniel’s
bed, his strong back covered in a pale gray T-shirt, in the mid-day sun. They’re talking about the New
York Giant’s game they recently went to at the MetLife Stadium, while I’m leaning toward the bed with
Leila and Richard, engrossed in girl talk and making plans. Leila agrees to take me to the mainland for
some girly shopping, and to source a salon to cut my hair.
I catch Jake staring back at me as she picks up strands of my hair, talking about cutting it short; he
frowns when she mentions a real short pixie style, but I shrug it off. I wonder what he’s thinking. He
seems only half tuned to what Daniel is saying, and more interested in how much of my tawny locks
are to be shorn off.
“I think you would suit maybe shoulder length.” Leila’s sweet little voice breaks into my thoughts. The
girl is the dictionary definition of a perky blonde. All smiles and cuteness, ample boobs, and gentle
curves.
“Maybe.” I pick up a strand too, twirling it as I look at it considering it. I catch Jake watching me again
and this time lock eyes. I want to know what he thinks but I don’t want to openly ask his opinion.
“What’s wrong with how it is?” he breaks in with a frown, creasing that pretty face and pushing in
anyway.
“Jake … Men have no clue. Woman like a drastic change every so often.” Leila quips at him, with a
beaming smile.
“If it’s not broke, then don’t fix it.” Jake raises eyebrows in reply and his eyes skim my hair, an air of
hostility brewing.
“Maybe it’s not broken but can definitely be revamped. Women do like to shake it up every so often. Try
on a new look.” This has a comedy battle of two obviously good friends written all over it as she sasses
him back.
“It’s my hair!” I point out, putting my hands up between the two of them. Jake reaches out, takes a
strand, and tucks it behind my ear, his eyes skimming it again as though he’s thinking about something
and he doesn’t seem happy.
“I like it how it is. If you want to change it, then fine, it can always grow back.” It’s that childish sulk tone.
Leila smirks, and I just laugh at him. He sounds like a boyfriend and definitely not a boss.
“Worried your girlfriend won’t get you all hot and bothered with short hair, Jacob?” Leila leans over me
to prod her finger in Jake’s cheek. I open my mouth to right her on the fact we’re most definitely not in a
relationship, but Jake leans over me, shoving Leila back.
“Shut up, wench. Emma has more sense than to let me be her boyfriend.” He sounds a little more
serious than I think he means too, and I clamp shut.
“Oh right, I forgot. You’re just friends.” The honey like way she says it, makes both Jake and I throw her
agreeable fake smiles.
“I can see that,” she adds sarcastically.
“Really, we are.” My feeble attempt is almost ignored by her. She smiles and sighs loudly, throwing
herself back on her lounger.
“Well then, you won’t care if I take her to get it all shaved off then, will you?”
Jake just casts her a look that’s somewhere between a challenge and a glare, before turning to me,
friendlier.
“Emma can do whatever she wants with her hair. She’ll always look beautiful.” He gets up and walks
off, following Daniel, who has left his seat to go to the table, laden with lunch, and turns his back on us.
Sulk vibes growing.
“Someone is not a happy little playboy today!” Leila grins and throws me a charming, feigned innocent,
smile. I am focused on that little lurch in my stomach at his calling me “beautiful” and push it down
quickly. I don’t bother replying to Leila. I don’t even know how to if I am being honest. He certainly
didn’t behave like my boss just then.
62fb1bb41dcb31934bd49bda