Page 44 of Father Figure

“Damn, that sounds like a dream. Wish I could be there instead of stuck here ringing up cans of soup.”

Listening to the anger underscoring his complaint, it was easy to see the brat hiding beneath the surface that Sam warned me about.

“Is Samson with you?” he asked, straining his neck to look around the store. The way he spat Sam’s name, full of acid, told me exactly how he felt about my best friend.

“Not today. Why, you miss him?” Just like Sam, I was pulling his chain. He was right—it was more fun than it looked.

“Yeah, right, I had enough of him this weekend at my graduation party. Not that I invited him.”

“And was Samson on his best behavior?” I asked, smiling because I already knew the answer.

Mattie scoffed. “If you call that thing he does with his eyes, burning judgmental holes through me, glaring and trying to make me feel two feet tall his best behavior, then yeah, he was a real gentleman.”

“I see,” I chuckled, easily able to imagine Sam’s judgmental, glaring face. “At least you got a good gift out of it.”

“I wish! All he got me was a gift certificate for his stupid boat for some dumb deep-sea fishing charter.”

“Hey, that’s a good gift. Do you know how much people pay for a day of deep-sea fishing? It’s an expensive charter. If Sam offered to take you out, he gave you a spot on his boat worth a lot of money that he could have made by taking someone else.”

“I don’t fish!”

Leaning over the conveyor belt, I smiled and said, “Maybe it’s time you learned. Sam’s the best.”

I laughed all the way to my truck, knowing full well Sam was betting on Mattie never cashing in that charter gift card.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Brand new pink thong. Check.

Foil packets of lube. Check.

Crossbody bag with a rainbow on the front. Check.

Now that I was officially out to my dad, I could wear something with a pride symbol attached. I was an official card-carrying gay now.

Puka shell necklace. Check.

I packed a few extra bathing suits to go over my thong, a couple of tank tops and flip-flops, and, of course, my sunscreen because lobster-red skin wasn’t sexy.

Bimini was going to be epic!

“Hold on, Nicky,” Cass shouted over the wind.

Crossing the Gulf Stream was often rough, with choppy seas and wind gusts sometimes exceeding twenty miles per hour. Even with the boat tossing and turning, throwing us around like rag dolls in a box, I felt safe and secure nestled between Cass’s thighs as he steered us through the treacherous seas.

Things felt different on this trip. It was as if there was an understanding between us now that we knew where we were headed—to bed together—eventually. It was okay for me to be touchy-feely with him, and Cass didn’t seem to mind the extra affection. In fact, it seemed as if he welcomed it.

The tip of his nose brushed over the shell of my ear, causing goosebumps to break out along my neck. “You smell like pineapple and sugar.”

“It’s my new deodorant. Do you like it?” He nipped my lobe, making my dick twitch.

“Delicious,” he practically growled.

Heck, I would roll that shit all over my body if he liked it that much! Maybe I could get him to nibble on my body like he was nibbling my ear.

Sam stuck his head over the top step, peering in at us. “Nicky, come help me in the kitchen.”

Cass gave my ear one last nuzzle. “Go help. I’ll see you later.”

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