Page 43 of Inflame

She is already taken. And that fact alone makes me desire her.

12

CLAIRE

“How’s Penny doing?” I ask, readjusting on the lounger. If I don’t reapply sunscreen, I worry I will get burned.

Nic perks up from the question. “Good, as far as I can tell. She is allowed to visit home more often and seems to be dating.” He shrugs and looks over at the pool. “Don’t tell Graham though. I only know because I keep a bit more detailed tabs on her.”

“I can’t imagine Graham isn’t doing the same,” I snicker.

“Oh, he definitely is. It’s just that my technical skills are way more”—he struggles for the right word—“intrusive.”

That’s not the response I expected. “So, you are violating her privacy?”

“I am protecting my baby sister from assholes.”

“Call it what you want, but you are basically going to make her rebel against you if she finds out. Then she is going to choose someone very unsavory. Like, think biker gang and a tattoo sleeve, with a Prince Albert ring, and—”

A tremor runs through him. “What the fuck, Claire?”

“What?” I say with a shrug.

“You have a vivid imagination. And what do you know about a Prince Albert?” he asks, his eyes full of mirth.

“I once”—I pause—“never mind.”

He laughs as he fills in his own blanks. Now who has an even bigger imagination?

“We better go back up before you get crispy from the sun.”

“Yeah,” I agree. I’m starting to fry. “I thought we would see a show tonight. I got us tickets from the hotel concierge when we arrived for the Cirque Du Soleil show here.”

“Wow,” he says, smiling from ear to ear. “I think that sounds fun. I’ve actually never been to one.”

“We could hit up a restaurant on location beforehand. Maybe grab dessert after the show?”

“I’m sure Angie and Graham would be game for all of that.”

“Good, because tomorrow is strippers,” I inform him. I had to squeeze that into the itinerary before Ethan joins us. I do not need anyone to sabotage my vision for Angie’s epic bachelorette party. I already have Graham to contend with; I don’t need Ethan’s input too.

“Oh boy,” he mutters.

“Oh yes!” I whoop, gathering up my belongings. “I hope there are no Prince Alberts that show up.”

Seeing Nic’s penetrating gaze makes me burst out into laughter. “Don’t have a thing for genital piercings?”

“I prefer my dicks with only one hole.”

He looks at me with a blank look on his face. “Noted.”

“Glad we had this little chat,” I say with a giggle.

Nic is easy to talk to and even easier on the eyes. When he laughs—usually at me—a sense of weightlessness appears in the aura that he surrounds himself in. Typically he seems to go through life with an unyielding stiffness that gives me the impression that he is pissed off at the world. And who knows, maybe he is. I barely know him.

We walk side by side back into the hotel. The blast of the air conditioning chills me, and I pull my coverup tighter to my body. The elevator takes us up to the suite, and we disperse to get ready for dinner and the show. I have never been to a circus, and I know that the acrobatics in this type of show are spectacular. I’m so glad I was able to score us tickets.

After my shower, I text Angie to join me in getting ready in my room. I select a strapless silver dress that has a black lace overlay. Blake helped me pick it out on one of our many shopping excursions. That man knows how to shop.

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