Page 69 of Notorious Park Avenue Prince

“Okay, East, you’re on bar duty. Zac, we’ll get the game set up.”

“Wait a second.” East held a hand up. “You want me to make and serve you both a drink? Don’t you have someone to do that?”

“Private island, remember? No service here unless you do it yourself. You do know how to make a drink, I assume.”

“Well, of course, but?—”

“Then the bar’s over there. You’ll find everything you need. Zac, what would you like?”

Zac smiled, and I had a feeling he was thinking of something that required a little more than a quick pour. “I’ll take a Tequila Sunrise, thanks.”

“Good choice. And I’ll take a Painkiller. Be sure to be generous with the rum.”

East rolled his eyes and turned toward the bar, mumbling, “Want me to hold it while you drink it too?”

I gestured for Zac to follow me to the weatherproof trunk and then unlatched it.“Two cornhole boards.”

Zac chuckled as I took out the first one and he grabbed the second. The sand was warm beneath our feet as we made our way out from under the shade of the cabana.

“Why do you have games for two or more if you come here on your own to relax?”

I placed the first board down and glanced over my shoulder at him. “Who said I always come here alone?”

Zac opened his mouth, no doubt about to apologize for prying, but I held up a hand.

“Sorry,” I said, shocking him. “That was me deflecting again, wasn’t it?”

“I mean, I wasn’t going to say…”

“Why not?” I said, taking the second board from him. “I told you that I’m not your professor out here and to ask whatever you want, and you did. So let’s try that again.”

“Okay, why do you have games for two or more?”

“Because there was a time where someone other than me used to come here to help me unwind.”

“But…not anymore?”

“But not anymore.” I stepped around him to put the second board in place—approximately twenty-seven feet away.

I wasn’t sure why I’d told Zac what I had. Maybe it was because I knew a whole lot more about them than they did me, and while that was necessary for many reasons, that particular piece of information seemed more personal than private.

“Your drinks are ready!” East called out from where he stood under the cabana with what looked like an espresso martini. “But alas, no tray to serve them to you on, your highness.”

That mouth of his…

Zac dropped the container with the small bags at East’s feet as he went to grab his drink, and I shut the trunk.

“So this cornhole game.” East frowned at the boards on the sand. “Seriously, they couldn’t come up with a better name?”

“What about the game?” I said before taking a sip of my Painkiller. Eastdefinitelyhadn’t gone light on the rum.

“How do you play?”

“We’re going to go with basic rules today without counting points. Two play at a time. One person at each end. We take turns throwing the bags, and whoever gets the most bags in the hole wins.”

East scrunched his nose up. “That’s it? Seems easy enough.”

“I’d agree, except for the amount of alcohol you added to this drink.”

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