Page 42 of The Vacation Mix-Up
RILEY
For fuck’s sake, Ben.
He’s like a bad smell that won’t go away. And sure, Riles gets riled up at me easily, but I’d much rather sightsee with her than spend the day with him.
“What did I say?” the irritating jackass asks as he pulls out a cigarette and lights it while Riles scurries off like a frightened mouse.
“What didn’t you say?”
“Too much?”
I scoff. “Yeah, maybe a little.”
He brushes it off and draws in a lungful of smoke. “I think my dick is about to fall off.”
I scoff again. “Bullshit!”
“Not bullshit, dude. I dropped a few grand in the jewelry store last night, and Whitney and Brittany were very appreciative. Best few grand I’ve spent.”
My jaw plummets.
“Yeah.” He grins and cups his junk. “You missed out. Big time.”
I didn’t. I don’t pay for sex, ever, not with cold hard cash nor extravagant gifts. But to each their own.
“So where we going next?” he asks as if we’re the best of friends.
I hadn’t planned on going anywhere with him, but now that Riles has abandoned me and I’ve seen all I wanted to see in Halifax, I shrug. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
“Let’s go to the pub. There’s one down the road.”
My liver cringes, but I’ve got nothing better to do. “Lead the way.”
He claps me on the back.
“Do that again, and I’ll break your arm.”
Ben chuckles as if I’m kidding.
I’m not.
“I like you,” he says. “You’re funny.”
We walk a couple of blocks to an Irish-themed pub, dark oak hardwood lining the floors and walls. A man plays a fiddle in the corner by the fireplace, flames smoldering, people laughing as they chatter among themselves.
I beeline for the bar, admiring the beveled edges and intricate carvings.
“Mornin’.” The jolly bartender slides two coasters across the bar. “What can I get you?”
“Two pints of Guinness,” Ben says as he takes a seat on a stool, the maple creaking under his weight.
My insides cry—the poor girl needs a restoration.
Unable to help myself, I squat down and take a closer look.
“What are you doing?” Ben asks, peering down, brows pinched. “Looking for gum?”
Bane of my fucking existence.The number of times I’ve come across gum underneath chairs and tables… it should be considered a criminal offense.
