Page 44 of The Rehoboth Retreat
I swear I flashed back to earlier— Miles stormed back to the beach house, pissed. Cecilia stayed behind with me. My chest went tight. Heat in my belly.
Shit, did I get excited that his mom actually fucking showed up and stayed at my party while he left?
Pure ego boost drug.
“Cecilia,” I said, voice smooth, yet I swear it shook like warm glass. I raised my glass in reflex. “What areyoudoing here?”
“Don’t play coy,” she replied, stepping closer with that elegant stride—heaven help me. “I thought you could use a break from the crowd… and Ialsothink it’s called research.”
She smiled, the mother-of-all smug. But not unkind—warm.
I blinked and stumbled to my across the lawn to make a drink for her. Itwould be crass for me to have a mediocre bartender serve this queen. I hobbled to the nearest bartending stand and managed to work with whatever I could there. I found two chilled glasses in the outdoor fridge.Perfect. I added gin, simple syrup, amaretto, fresh rosemary sprigs, crushed ice, and a splash of fancy Italian bitters.
You bet your fucking boots I went full-bartender.
I swirled her drink once and slid it across the bar top. “Here,” I said. “Let’s call it the Rosemaretto Reverie. I like the serene type—just like you, but the amaretto gives it the nutty edge to represent your son, of course.”
She took it and examined the delicate tan hue. “Thank you, darling. Although, I’ll choose to ignore the latter half of that comment.” She took a sip. I watched her eyes kind of drift up in pleasure. I almost knocked over the bottle in guilt-laced pride.
I poured myself one, as well—ice rattled, gin frothed up.
“Your poison, or…?” I asked.
I could barely keep it together when she shot me that approving smirk.
You gotta be kidding me.
“It will suffice,” she said. “Thank you, Hudson.”
My chest wrenched in that electric way you get when you catch someone watching you,reallywatching you.
I nodded. “You’re welcome.”
Music pumped loud now—hip-hop beat blending with DJ chants—and she raised an eyebrow, likeimpressed, asshole?We’re matching drinks, maybe matching vibes?
Truth: I was relieved as hell. Relief mixed with something that felt suspiciously like pride. She and Miles—yes, they both had stiff collars. Butshe? She got me. I’m not sure if she actually gotme, but she got something. Maybe pity. Maybe intrigue. But at least it wasn’thate.
“Cheers.” I raised my glass. “To peace.”
She clinked hers against mine. “To peace—andinteresting neighbors.”
That got a smile past my own eyes. And for once, the night wasn’t a vanity blitz. It was something a little more…subtle.
“It’s… loud behind me,” she suddenly said, nodding toward the back patio stage where a DJ’s speakers pulsed bass like a living thing.
“Yeah,” I laughed softly. “I’m pretty surprised you’re still here, actually.”
“I stayed because—surprise—I wanted to talk to you alone.”
I gave her a sly smirk. “No need to make any further requests. I can take a hint. And, of course, I’d be glad to speak to you in privacy.”
So, I led her inside, through a sliding glass partition, into a cozy lounge area lined with low sofas and soft lighting—a little reprieve from the thumping music and flashing lights out back.
We found a niche near a mini-bar and sat on the bar stools.
Cecilia leaned in. “So… about your neighbor.”
I frowned.
