Page 72 of Charlie

"For the love of God, will one of you please tell me what's going on?"

"Cameron," I croak, my heart in my throat, my nerves getting the best of me.

"What about him?" He raises his eyebrows, waiting. Confusion hits, his forehead scrunching. "Wait. How do you know about Cameron?"

I open my mouth to explain, but nothing comes out.

"She fucked him," Jack informs him with a huge grin.

"That is not helping," I hiss.

"I don't understand," Lach says, evidently completely lost.

"The guy in Portree—" I start to say.

"Was Cameron," he finishes, understanding dawning. "Well, fuck. We're going to the boat to call him?"

I nod, studying his face for a clue as to what he's thinking.

He laces his fingers through mine, pulling my hand to his lips. "How do you feel about it?"

"Me? How do you feel about it? I was worried you'd be disappointed."

"Why would I be disappointed?"

"Because I slept with him. Because I'm complicating everything."

"Life is messy, Charlie. That's part of the fun. Either it will work out with him, or it won't. We'll figure it out."

He puts his arm around me, and I melt into him. Jack palms my thigh and squeezes lightly, giving me the reassurance I need.

"If you already slept with him, you know what that means?" Lach muses, tossing a glance at Jack.

"What?" I ask, my gaze bouncing between them both.

"It means that to make it fair, we each get our first time alone with you," Jack says, his hand inching higher on my thigh.

My mouth goes dry. "That makes sense." I like the idea of being intimate with each of them alone before we... God. Goosebumps race over my entire body as a vision of tangled limbs flashes through my mind. I lick my lips. "So, are there rules to this?"

"Assuming Cameron is on board, the four of us will have to sit down and hash it out," Jack says, moving his hand until his pinkie is wedged in the crease of my thigh. I swallow a gasp as he slides it toward my center, my heart beating in my throat.

We turn into a gravel drive, following it around a bend before a cute little marina comes into view. There are a few dozen boats, most of them tattered fishing vessels that look like they've spent the last hundred years on the water.

"There's something I have to tell you," Lach says, extending his hand to help me out of the truck.

My heart sinks, but I don't have time to respond before Jack butts in.

"Surprise her," he says, "trust me, you'll want to see the look on her face."

"Hey!" I swat at his arm. "I think finding out that you're a duke is enough of a surprise for one day." I follow them onto a long dock, gaping at the boat floating perpendicularly to it. It's the biggest boat I've ever seen. I wonder if it belongs to someone who summers on the island. Although, Harris seems like an odd place for that. I bump into Lach when he stops short, and he grabs me by the shoulders to stop me from tumbling into the water. I swivel my head around, my gaze snagging on a pretty sailboat. Larger than I thought Lach could afford, but maybe he got a deal on it. "Is that her?" I ask, pointing to it. "The Nauti Buoy?" I raise an eyebrow, pressing my lips together to keep my laugh in.

"Do you really think I would name my boat that?" He asks incredulously.

"No?" I grimace. "What's the name of your boat then?"

He turns my body toward the yacht. "Meet Whisky Business." My gaze travels to the bow and I read the name as the words fall from his lips, but my brain still can't comprehend it.

"I don't—" I stop, looking between them. "That's almost the size of a fucking cruise ship. You're joking, right?"

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