Page 20 of Theirs

Chapter 7

I wake up to rocking, and the smell of the sea.

I almost forget where I am for a minute, thanks to the blackout curtains.

We got in late to the boat last night, and I was falling asleep on my feet, so Ben promised me a tour in the morning. He was a total gentleman, giving up his master suite to me, and taking one of the five smaller guest rooms on the boat. In my haste to pack, I totally forgot to bring some pajamas, so he’s leant me one of his oversized t-shirts from his old fraternity, the same one my brother was in.

I climb out of the king sized bed, and fumble my way over to the curtains to open them up, even though I can’t see much of anything through the circular window. I put my duffle bag up on the bed to grab a bikini and my sarong, and the bottle of SPF 75 to protect the artwork on my body.

Once dressed, I open the door to my room and try to remember the way that we came in last night. I go up a set of stairs and open a door to the exterior. I press a hand to my mouth as I walk out and stare at the open ocean, I spin in a circle, and there’s not a thing in sight.

“Ahoy, there, Lavender!” Ben says from the top of the boat. “How’d you sleep?”

I walk up the stairs to where he’s hanging out, and he greets me at the top with a kiss to my forehead.

“I slept great!” I say, and notice Mac sitting shirtless at a table, sipping on a mimosa. “Don’t have to worry about some criminal breaking into my studio apartment when I’m in the middle of the ocean. Oh, morning, Mac!”

“Morning, Miss. Sullivan,” he says. “You should know, we forgot the coffee on land.”

I smirk at him, I think he’s actually trying to crack a joke with me. “That’s okay,” I say. “I’m sure there’s plenty of rum on the boat. Love me some Bahama Mama’s.”

“Water first,” Mac says, already pouring me a glass from the fancy glass carafe on the table. It seems like he’s slightly more relaxed this morning. “And put some sunscreen on, you’ve got way too much skin exposed to the sun.”

I wave my bottle at Mac. “Already on it, Sir!”

“I’ll help!” Colin says, popping up out of nowhere in a pair of board shorts and an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt. I hand him my bottle of sunscreen, and he ushers me to a small lounge bed. I lie down on my stomach, and hear Colin uncap the bottle.

“So, where’s Alexander?” I ask the guys, my body flinches when the cold sunscreen hits my skin, but Colin quickly begins rubbing it in. His warm hands rubbing against my exposed skin.

“Sleeping in,” Mac says, and I’m shocked by this change in his demeanor. “He gives himself one day a week to sleep in, and that’s Saturday. He’s a bit of a workaholic.”

I lift my head to look at Mac, and protest, telling him he’s also a workaholic, but he just winks at me. Knowing damn well that he’s no different.

Colin’s rubbing circles into my shoulder blades, and down my torso, I close my eyes at the sensation of it. Colin finishes up, and I flip onto my back without him even needing to ask, but his hands don’t touch me. I open my eyes and find him staring me up and down, and notice that the two other men have stopped talking and they’re looking at me.

I glance down, making sure my bikini top is still covering my breasts. Yup, we’re good.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, turning my attention to Ben. “Never seen a woman with zero plastic surgery?”

To my surprise, that comment draws out a deep laugh from Mac, who brings me my glass of water with a dainty little paper umbrella in it.

“Ben and Colin were right,” he says. “You are kind of funny. I’m going to start some breakfast. How do you like your eggs?”

“Fertilized,” rolls right off my tongue, staring up at him, biting my bottom lip. “Kidding.”

Slowly, Mac bends down and places his thumb on my lip, pulling it out of my mouth. “Don’t let Dr. Ben ever think about injecting these beautiful lips. They’re too perfect.”

“She’s too gorgeous to step into my office,” Ben says from behind him. “I wouldn’t dream of altering a thing about my pretty little Lavender.”

“Your Lavender?” Mac asks, looking over his shoulder at Ben. “If she’s your Lavender, why is her scent on my pocket square?”

“Oh God,” I say, putting my arm over my eyes to cover my embarrassment. “Do we have to have this conversation while we’re miles and miles away from land so I can’t run away?”

“Tell me, Miss. Sullivan,” Mac says, turning back to me. “Did you join the mile high club last night?”

I shake my head. “Not necessarily.”

“Good, because when you’re on my private jet,” he says, leaning toward me, his lips brushing against my ear. “You’re mine. If you pull something like that on the flight home, I’ll make good on the promise I gave you while at the coffee shop.”

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