Page 9 of Side Hustle
I shook my head, my eyes filling with tears. Going up on my toes, I kissed his shoulder feather soft, not wanting to hurt him more than his father already had.
“It’s not right, Rip.”
He stared at me, his eyes flaring back to life. His arms banded around me tighter and my heart raced again. His face came closer, his lips only an inch from mine.
“We both have shit parents. But we do have each other, right?” he whispered.
All the little broken pieces of my heart, the ones I covered up and didn’t show to anyone but Rip, fused back together at his words. Yeah. We did have each other and that was more than enough.
He bridged the gap, placing his mouth on mine as if seeking permission. I opened for him, granting him everything he wanted. Everything I wanted. He nearly bent me in half in the next second, consuming my mouth with a fervor I never would have guessed from him. His tongue plunged inside, tasting me like I was the last cupcake on earth and he intended to consume every single crumb. He didn’t let up and I vaguely registered his hands roaming, exploring my curves while I clutched him to me. My body was on fire.
I never wanted this kiss to end. I wanted to kiss him until I took my last breath. I wanted to climb him like a tree and claim him as mine. All mine. Hazel and Rip forever. Yell it to the ocean, carve it in the tree that stood next to the marina. This boy was mine.
Another loud shriek from a seagull pulled me from the bittersweet memory. The bird swooped and I ducked, nearly losing one of my cookies to the flying vermin. I hollered at him and moved quickly down to where Rip had spun around at the noise. There was safety in numbers when it came to these bloodthirsty seagulls and I wasn’t too proud to let a guy handle it for me.
Rip had his mouth bunched in a smirk. “Did you just call him a dumb cluck?”
My cheeks flared. That memory had me all sorts of twisted up. “Probably. It’s what Granny calls them and it kind of stuck.”
He hooked a thumb over his shoulder, a lock of his dark hair curling down over his forehead. My fingers itched to swoop it out of the way for him. Thankfully, my hands were full and prevented me from doing something so colossally dumb.
“I got the boat ready. You have anywhere you need to be at a certain time?”
I shook my head. “Nope. I’m all yours. Uh, well, you know what I mean.”
What the hell? That was so lame. And so not what I meant to say. Rip smirked again, but thankfully didn’t say anything about my choice of words. He grabbed the bag off my shoulder and walked over to his boat.
I had to change the subject. Quick. “You’re remarkably happy this evening. I assume that means good news?”
Rip untied the boat without a word, pushed us off, and then expertly backed us out of the slip. He stood with his legs wide as he ran his hands over the huge wheel thingy. I may have loved the water, but I was far from knowledgeable about boats. I’d only been on Rip’s boat once before and he’d given me the stink eye the whole time, even though I’d tried to mingle with everyone else at the get-together and stay out of his way. As we got farther out into the ocean, the waves got a little choppier and I held on to the side rail while I bounced around one of the padded seats in front.
It wasn’t long before he slowed the speed and eventually shut the engine off, letting us gently rock wherever the sea took us. The sun was just setting into the ocean, a giant ball of fiery orange and red.
Rip flopped down onto the bench next to me, my nose able to pick up on his unique scent even in the open air. I inhaled quietly, my stomach flip-flopping despite knowing he and I weren’t good together. We’d proven that once already. The fact that he filled out a pair of jeans better than Beckham in his prime, or wore a clenched jaw like Henry Cavill, all that didn’t mean I should overlook the fact that he was an asshole. He’d made me trust him and then he’d let me down publicly like I meant nothing to him.
“Mad at the sunset?” Rip grumbled next to me, his hair adorably mussed.
I realized I’d been frowning. And for good reason. How dare he look so hot? We were here to talk about the gold, not to look like a goddamn model for cologne. Being distracted by him made me angry. And then being angry made me angry I’d let him get under my skin. So, I did what any other fiercely independent woman would do when faced with an asshole Adonis: I smiled while I plotted his murder in my head.
“All good. So, what did you so urgently need to tell me about?” I leaned forward and grabbed a cookie off the plate sitting on the dash of the driver’s console.
Rip’s face lit up immediately. The perma-scowl was gone, and in its place was Rip from high school, all boyish lines, a smirk of a smile, and a light dancing in his eyes. I bit down hard on the cookie, not only because I was irritated, but also because the cookies required a healthy chomp. These suckers weren’t for the dainty eater, but I could already feel my inflammation dying down from the overpowering turmeric.
“Okay, so get this. I own the land.”
Rip paused expectantly and it took me a second to pull my brain back into the matter at hand. I swallowed quickly and wished I had some water.
“What? I thought you said it was your dad’s?” I could feel my heartbeat kicking up at this new information. Rip’s excitement proved contagious.
“I know. I did too. But I went through his files and found the deed making it mine.” Rip sat back in the chair and then leaned forward again.
“Wow. I guess that means you’re rich. Or richer.”
He gave me a curious look. “I’ve never been rich. My parents might be, but the only thing I own is this rust bucket.”
Coming from a girl who didn’t even own a rust bucket, that seemed rich to me. Damn, I really needed some moisture in my mouth. One bite of the cookie and I was dehydrated.
“Do you have any water? Also, how come you didn’t know you owned the land? Wouldn’t that be something your dad would tell you?”
