Page 10 of Enemies in Earnest

I take back what I said earlier about how much I hated having to schlep tourists around and crack cheesy jokes that made me die inside. Wearing an elf costume, as a graying, forty-year-old man and talking in a dippy voice, would be the acme of torture by tourism.

“Oh yes, Santa definitely needs to know.” I told him, mimicking his syrupy, over the top theatrics. “Acacia should definitely be taken over Santa’s lap and given a good spanking.”

Her eyebrows shot to her hairline before dropping and furrowing into the sharpest frown lines I had witnessed on anyone younger than eighty.

“This is not that kind of establishment, Wheeler.” The man, whose name tag identified him asYiannis,unloaded two drinks calledGettin’ Figgy With It.“Here’s some naughty drinks for the two of you.”

Neither of us had even placed a drink order. Also, I had no idea who Yiannis was or how he knew my name given I tended to avoid the popular local places. I guess my reputation preceded me.

Once he left, I took a hearty sip of the FiggyChristmas on Crack—way too sweet for my personal liking or someone who didn’t want to send my glucose levels into full nuclear panic—and started again.

“You know exactly why I have very strong feelings for you.”

She spat the words. I know they were supposed to be heated and full of rage, but what she said yanked a full bellied laugh from me.

“Oh, do you now? I’m flattered.”

The flush went clear up to the tips of her ears.

“YouruinedHemingway Day. On hisone hundred and twenty-birthday,no less. Do you know we had hisfamilythere, Mr. ‘Show Me Your Tits!’”

“I never said ‘Show Me Your Tits!’ Last I checked we’re not on Bourbon Street, sweets. And I have absolutely no control over who comes into my boat or how much they choose to drink. It’s abooze cruise.They’re in the Keys to party. I provide the party. Would you deny me my right as an American business owner to deliver stellar service that at minimummeetsexpectations?”

I’d never seen Acacia slam a drink. Hell, most of the time she was sipping on sophisticated wines from special glasses in varying sizes while discussingbouquetsandnoses. But she cleared that sugar comanaughtydrink in two large sips. To say my cock didn’t appreciate the way her muscles worked all of that volume down her throat would absolutely be a bold faced lie.

I’ve never waxed poetic about the slope of someone’s neck. Acacia, however, had me wanting to lean across the table and run my tongue along those corded tendons to see if I could make her shiver.

Fuck.

No. I did not.

There would be nothing past that damn kiss. It was why I brought babysitters with me. To make sure my very convincing dick shut the hell up and stayed safely tucked in my pants all night.

“You know damn well I always host a sunset tribute. Hell, you knew how important it was because we spent the night togethertwo nights priorwhere I told you how excited I was for the celebration and that I had a special guest attending. Yet, despite me obviously wasting any effort trying to engage with you on any level above primate, you clearly forgot about the entire thing after you got what you wanted.”

The moment the wordsspent the night togetherwere out of her mouth, my brain saidthanks, but no thanksto normal, sensible thought. All I could think of was what would have happened if she and I really had spent the night together. That was a mistake. My mind took that as open season on playing out every scenario in my head that involved Acacia naked and splayed in my bed, panting and satiated.

“Are you even paying attention?” she asked, yanking me from the porn show in my mind. “How typical of you. You ask me for an explanation and when I give it to you, you tune out.”

She crossed her arms beneath her chest. The shimmery purple dress she wore caught the lights and danced up the wall, giving off the sensation we were in a disco ball. I needed to think of somethingstat. Because I absolutely—though not intentionally—had not been paying attention and that did not bode well for the rest of the night.

“There’s this little thing called the tide, Acacia. While an intellectual such as yourself might not understand the complexities of high and low tide, the moon determinesfor mewhen I can bring my boat to dock. If I miss that slim window of opportunity, my boat ends up on the rocks or stuck on a sandbar. You see, boats need a little thing calledwaterin order to propel forward and backward. Without that tiny detail, we’re just sandbar decorations for tourists.”

I wanted her to get her hair up. To get her panties tied so tight that she’d start spitting nails again and remind me why she was simply a gorgeous wolf in sheep’s clothing. Nothing good would come out of focusing on how sexy she looked with her hair swept off her face. Or how the purple-blue of her eyes caught the candle lightjust soand looked like the most rare of amethysts. The case study I’d been making of her face was the only reason I saw it. A drizzle of realization dropped across her features. First in the slight quirk of her eyebrow. Then, in the widening of her pupils and then theOfrom her lush mouth.

“I don’t want this to sound insulting,” I pursued. “But when I’m out on the water working, the only thing I’m thinking about is whether or not someone is going to go overboard and if they’ll give a good tip. I know that Hemingway Day is akin to a high religious holiday…but to me it’s just another day in July.”

ChapterEight

While I knowthat I opened my dumb mouth and asked Edwin to have dinner with me, I was seriously evaluating my ability to make sound decisions. It had to be the drink. The reason that I felt all weird inside, like each cell in my body had its own heartbeat.

Certainly that weird feeling wasn’t flutters. I wasn’t surprised that Edwin made an effort for our date. No. Not date. Dinner. A truce dinner. That was all it was supposed to be. He wore a pair of khaki dress slacks and a dark navy dress shirt that highlighted the firm body my fingers clenched against the day prior.

Dashing.

It was the perfect description for how he looked. With his perfectly styled hair that managed to look windswept and not styled, and the scruffy jaw that he had to maintain to make it look so perfectly distinguished along his jaw.

“I swear, Acacia, I had zero intent to ruin your celebration. Why would I choosethatyear to enact my revenge? Especially after we’d had that perfect picnic just a couple of days prior. I wouldn’t mess that up.”

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