Page 20 of Hot Saltwater Kisses

I pursed my lips. “Do you want it alphabetically or by order of magnitude?”

“All I hear are excuses.”

Ugh. I dropped my gaze and swallowed. “He’s only here for a month.”

“I didn’t say you have to marry him.” She grinned, but it was quieter than before, sweet and fond. “Just… have a good time, for once. Live a little.”

“I’ll consider it,” I said, mostly to shut her up.

I wouldn’t. It wasn’t worth the risk.

6

It was the elephant thing. Problem. The elephant problem thing. Pink? Maybe tap-dancing? The tap-dancing pink elephant problem.

Yeah.

“The hell you talking about?” Nia mumbled into my hair.

That was, uh… Hmm.

I blinked at the lanterns above us. They wore halos, like they thought they were better than other lamps. Or… I blinked again. Maybe just one lantern. A schizophrenic lantern with an attitude. Nia had asked me something, though.

“Logan,” I told her.

“Logan is a tap-dancing pink elephant?”

Jesus, she wasn’t usually this slow. Must be the booze. Staff birthday parties had that effect, which was why we only celebrated the big 0’s. Kept us from alcohol poisoning. And I wasn’t a party person—not like Nia. Too many people made my head spin.

“No,” I said patiently. Because I was a man of great patience. Like Godot in that play. The one where no one shows up… or, no, they’re waiting for him. Whatever. “Logan’s not a tap-dancing pink elephant. I mean, yeah, he’s tall. And his lips are kinda pink, so…”

They were. Not lipstick pink, but this sweet, rosy hue. Very… kissable.

“Milo,” Nia said.

“Huh?”

“Logan and elephants. Connection?”

“Right.” I tipped further into her. She made a nice pillow. The sofa was great, too. Soft and welcoming, and God, I was never getting up again. This was my island of calm in a sea of music and laughter and shouting. The staff area was draped in the same string of lantern lights we always brought out for birthdays. Life was very predictable around here.

Nia poked me. Huh? Oh.

“It’s the elephant thing,” I said. “Logan’s not an elephant, but he’s my elephant. The one you try to ignore but can’t.”

She pondered this. “You’re trying to ignore Logan?”

“Not… exactly.” Not at all. Really quite the opposite. Which madesense—he was a dive guest, and I couldn’t ignore someone I was responsible for. Safety first and all. Plus, he knew Katie, so we’d reminisced about post-dive beers on her boat, and I’d teased him about how she couldn’t remember a Logan Fox the size of a brick house. He also asked about photography, and it was fun to explain, since he already knew stuff like the rule of thirds. Even though framing a shot was kinda harder when you were floating.

Nia poked me again.

I squawked. In a manly way.

“So you’re not ignoring Logan?” she asked.

Ah, that. I took a sip of… something. Fruity with rum. “Not exactly. But, like. Ever since you told me I should hook up with him? I can’t think of anything else. His hands, Nia. His fuckinghands.”

She had the audacity to laugh. Audacity—cool word. Loved the way it rolled off the tongue. Fancy.

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