All I Want Page 5

  “I sure as hell hope so. I’d hate to think you’re settling down after a screw in a Ford.”

  “He was driving a restored, vintage beach wagon.” She looks at me accusingly, and I roll my eyes. “We couldn’t go back to my mom’s house, it’s so small, you know? And he was staying with his parents, and we thought that would be weird. So we kissed in the wagon. Then later we got a hotel room here at his resort because it was low season.”

  “This is all awesome, but now you’re getting married?”

  “We knew each other in high school, and as it turned out, he had a huge crush on me. And I had a crush on him. We kissed once back then but then some stupid shitheads spread rumors about us. About me.”

  I know there’s something painful in this story, but Kate’s not giving it up. Instead, she’s inspecting her nail.

  “We have a complicated history,” she says.

  I nod slowly and ignore the subtext. For now. “A Christmastime hookup. The stuff of fond memories. You’re going to throw away traveling the world with me for Damien and his wagon?”

  “Stop it.” Her lips press together. “It wasn’t supposed to go any further than that. We were both having fun. Friends with benefits thing. He was home for only a few months before his next assignment overseas. He’s a military contractor. I told you that.”

  “So that part’s true.”

  “It’s all true,” she cries, then shrinks back into the booth. “Most of it.”

  I guzzle my water.

  “So we were happily hooking up. Great sex. Like filthy sweet sex.”

  I hold up a hand, an image of Max’s muscles and naked body coming to mine. “I’ve been in a draught. Please stop.”

  “Sorry. We were hanging out, and then he found out about my health condition.”

  My mouth drops open. Kate has a rare genetic condition that causes freakishly high cholesterol. It can only be controlled with medication and blood dialysis treatments. At twenty-eight, she has the cholesterol of a seventy-year-old who eats bacon like popcorn.

  “And I told him I didn’t have health insurance. Couldn’t afford it now that I don’t have income because I’m helping my mom’s bar. And I can’t afford my medicine. He took pity on me.” She blinks, and a tear rolls down her cheek.

  I lean in and grab her hand. Now it’s beginning to dawn on me. “Oh my God. Did he offer to marry you for health insurance?”

  She nods mournfully. “We were supposed to get married quietly. We’d planned to go to Tampa, hang out in the city for a weekend and do the ceremony at the courthouse, alone. Quietly. We figured I could get added to his insurance within a week, he’d be gone overseas for a year, and it would give me time to get my life together. But my mom found the marriage license certificate, and she showed his mom. And since Mom is sick and his mom has heart issues…things went sideways. Fast.” She covers her face with her hands.

  “And so we’re here, with two hundred guests, a pig roast, and forty-eight hours before you officially become Mrs. Damien Hastings.”

  She glances up. A river of tears slide down her cheek as she nods.

  “It all spiraled out of control. But here’s the thing. We get along so well. We’ve actually been spending time together. We like each other.”

  I smirk. “In bed.”

  “No. Not only that. We’ve been kayaking and paddleboarding, and we jog together. We hang out and watch movies. We’re like a real couple.”

  My spine straightens. “You jog?”

  She shrugs. “Since I wasn’t able to afford medication for a while, I thought exercise might help my cholesterol levels.”

  Jesus, this is way more complicated than I imagined.

  * * *

  By the time we finish our second sparkling water, it’s almost sunset. I’m getting used to the idea Kate’s marrying out of necessity.

  “I actually think it’s chivalrous he offered to marry you for health insurance,” I say in a hoarse whisper. “That’s hot. And he didn’t back out when the moms got involved.”

  “Don’t say anything to anyone this weekend, okay? As far as everyone here’s concerned, Damien and I are in madly in love. Let’s get back to the party, okay? I don’t want people to start talking.”

  I nod and slide out of the booth, bumping into her. “But you guys look like you’re in love. That’s the crazy part. I guess you have that going for you. Or you’re good actors. I saw how you two were together back there.”

  Kate shoots me a wicked grin. “I think that was lust, Lauren. Lust. Pure and simple. Did you see him? Plus, we just had an, ah, intimate moment in the reception room.”

  “Lucky bitch,” I tease. Although in my slightly exhausted state, I’m thinking of his brother when I hear the word lust…

  We shuffle out of the bar. I haven’t brought up our previous plan to travel together, and I’m not sure if I should. Kate’s got so much on her mind right now, between her health and the wedding.

  I can’t burden her with my selfish needs right now. Since Damien’s leaving for his overseas assignment a few days after the wedding, I’ll stay here for an extra week to talk her into coming with me to Dubai. Damien wouldn’t stop her, would he? Could he? Pfft. Of course he wouldn’t.

  He’s not even her real husband.

  When we reach the sand, Kate kicks off her flip-flops and sets them on a wooden platform near a beach shower spigot. I do the same with my sandals and notice a fierce beach volleyball game has started up.

  “Is this where the wedding’s going to be, here on the beach?” I point to the sand.

  “No, we’re doing it on a platform in the garden. You can still see the beach. It’s super pretty. I’ll show you tomorrow. Oh. Hey, what were you trying to say when you texted me earlier, by the way? Some guy was naked in your room? I didn’t understand your text. Sorry I didn’t respond; I was a little busy.”

  Almost as if in serendipity, my eye goes to a shirtless, golden-haired man playing volleyball.

  Max.

  “Yeah. Apparently it was Damien’s brother. I accidentally walked into his room while he was touching his peen.”

  Kate grabs my arm. “Holy shit. Which brother?”

  I continue staring at Max. He’s moving with the grace of a gazelle, hitting the ball and thwacking it at the perfect time. All while grinning adorably and cheering his side on.

  “The shirtless one over there.”

  She squints at the game, and her line of sight immediately goes to Damien, because he’s the biggest. He’s also shirtless, and while he’s handsome, he doesn’t do it for me like Max does.

  “Which brother? There’s four of them, and they’re all currently shirtless and playing volleyball. Sometimes I wonder if any of the Hastings men even own shirts.”

  “The one I saw earlier didn’t seem to own pants, either.” I crack up. Indeed, there are four men sans shirts on one side of the net. All have rippling torso muscles. The family is obviously genetically blessed with hotness.

  “The guy who looks almost exactly like Damien is Remy. See?” She points. “He’s a little smaller than Damien.”

  “Nope. Wasn’t him. Is Remy Damien’s twin?”

  “Yes. Remy’s five minutes younger. And the other guy who looks like the twins is Tate. He’s got the red shorts on. You can tell the three apart because he’s a little shorter than the twins.”

  “No, it wasn’t him, either.”

  “Max.” Something in her voice makes me tear my eyes away from him and turn to her.

  “Yeah. That’s him. The guy with the dirty blonde hair and the tan.” I beam. “He’s intriguing. Very intriguing.”

  She groans. “Lauren. No. You don’t want to go there.”

  “What? Why? He seems perfectly nice. He even brought me a beer after I interrupted him pleasuring himself.”

  Kate rolls her eyes.

  “Okay, I’m exaggerating. Maybe he wasn’t jerking off.”

  “Regardless. He’s a sweet guy. He’s the oldest, and
he loves his family so much. A hard worker. Trying to get the resort in shape to sell it so their parents can retire with some cash.”

  “None of those things seem to be black marks on his personality.”

  “He’s a workaholic. Extremely Type-A.”

  Now it’s my turn to eye-roll. “Jesus, Kate. I’m interested in a weekend wedding fling. Not a lifetime of bliss.”

  “Damien says Max always seems to fall for women who are unavailable because that way, the women won’t interfere with his job.” Kate shoots me a pointed look.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I widen my eyes and poke my chest with my index finger.

  “You’re the nomad and not exactly available for a long-term relationship. Don’t lead him on.”

  “God, Kate. You make me seem so flaky. Or like some femme fatale predator.” I grunt. Am I flaky? “Truth is, I would love a relationship with the right guy—if he adored me and accommodated my bouts of wanderlust. Is that asking too much?”

  Kate shrugs. “I’m no goddamned expert.”

  As if on cue, Max turns and catches my eye. He grins, and it’s like I’m blinded by sheer desire. I waggle my fingers at him and then stop, realizing it’s exactly what Kate’s neighbor did.

  He inspires finger waggles in women. I laugh, and the muscles in my body relax. It’s a huge relief to know the truth about Kate and her wedding. I’m actually thrilled Damien cares for her enough—or lusts after her enough—to want to give her health insurance.

  I’ll get her to Dubai one way or the other. Right now, I’m going to enjoy this crazy wedding, and from the way Max grinned at me, I’m going to enjoy him, too.

  Kate shoves my shoulder with hers and giggles. “The Hastings men are charming. It’s difficult not to get sucked in.”

  “I’ll do some sucking,” I whisper, and she hoots, almost falling over. Weirdly, I feel a little tipsy even though I’ve only had that one beer, hours ago.

  As night falls, a relaxed, beachy vibe hangs in the air. I glance at Kate, who’s snuggled up to Damien. She looks so happy. Then I catch Max staring at me. I grin and beckon him over by crooking my finger.

  Tonight, there’s the feeling in the air that anything’s possible.

  Seven

  Lauren

  I haven’t been to a real party like this in months.

  Oh, sure, I’ve been to formal events at the best hotels in Europe, catered affairs where liquor companies sponsor the drinks and fashion houses host red carpets. I’ve been to private house soirees where the presence of social media influencers are thicker than the Mediterranean heat. And there’s also the clubs from Ibiza to London, with the famous DJs and the celebrities.

  But those were all work. Tonight, is a real party, with real people, whose only goal is to laugh and have fun and flirt. There are only about twenty of us left now that it’s dark. It’s Damien, his brothers, and their friends. And Kate, of course.

  There are giddy giggles on my part, a bonfire on the sand, and a drum circle that makes my whole body beat with happiness. Max slides on a shirt — sadly — and then a hoodie as the night grows cool. He and I chat about stupid shit, and then drift apart, chat and then drift. I discover he’s thirty-five and a big-time real estate broker in New York and handles resort properties and hotels around the world.

  He strikes me as a bit uptight, but in an endearing, earnest way. The kind of guy who pays bills three days in advance, remembers to call his mom on Sundays, and doesn’t lose his belongings when he travels.

  But, he travels often. That’s a huge plus in my book.

  And he has an appreciation for some of my favorite things: the Lufthansa first class lounge at the Frankfurt Airport, John Green novels, and brunch.

  That he’s secure enough in his masculinity to embrace enthusiasm for the latter two—all while eye-fucking me—is pretty damned hot. The men I usually meet are often cynical and surrounded in an impenetrable layer of irony. Nothing is ever cool enough or interesting enough. Including me.

  Not Max, though. He’s telling me enthusiastically about the resort renovation, how every detail in each room was redone with a special Italian wood laminate and the doors are a unique light-gray hue.

  “Like baby doves.” His grin shows off straight, white teeth.

  I apologize for doing ju-jitsu on the baby dove-colored door. He claims he wasn’t jerking off.

  “Suuure,” I tease, the image of him touching his cock making me damp between my legs. I press my palm to my sweaty forehead.

  “You need something cold to drink?”

  “That would be lovely.”

  Kate sidles up to me. “Gawd, could you flirt with him any more?” she hisses as Max fetches us bottles of water.

  “Heh,” I retort triumphantly. “Wait and see what I’m capable of.”

  Kate dissolves into giggles. Back in our heyday—those first couple of years after graduating from the Art Institute in Chicago—our favorite pastime was flirting with dudes. Not sleeping around. Flirting. Having fun, laughing, and comparing notes. Tonight feels like old times, and it’s making me insanely happy.

  Nothing’s riding on tonight. No Instagram metrics, no Facebook algorithms. Fun for the sake of fun. Someone plays that catchy Juanes tune on a little speaker and a couple begins to salsa on the sand. Everyone else starts dancing, and Max and I shimmy and bump hips.

  By the third round of meaningless chatting with Max, I’m fairly confident we’re simultaneously teasing each other and assessing whether the other’s interested in a hookup.

  Spoiler alert: we’re both interested.

  There’s a drunken sing along to a Bob Marley song, Kate and I skip arm-in-arm along the gentle surf of the Gulf. We lie in the sand, laughing about old times as Damien and Max look on.

  There’s a slight crispness in the February Florida nighttime air, and Max ambles over to me, unzipping his blue hoodie.

  “You look chilly. Don’t want you getting sick. Put this on.”

  There’s his faint smell on his sweatshirt, like expensive old school shaving cream with a hint of salt water.

  I want to lick him and am pondering whether I should tell him this when he presses his shoulder into mine.

  “First time on Paradise Beach?”

  “It is. I’d always meant to visit, never got a chance.”

  “Damien says you and Kate shared a place in Chicago. You still live there?”

  “I don’t live anywhere.”

  He quirks an eyebrow, and I think about kissing his lips. They look soft.

  “You’re homeless?”

  I giggle. “Sort of. I’m a digital nomad.”

  “Ohh, so you’re one of those people who travels around the world taking beautiful social media photos. Yeah, I can see that. The beautiful part, definitely.”

  The wind whips a lock of my hair across my mouth, and he reaches to brush it back. Oof. There’s that pull in my stomach again.

  Thank God we’re on the same page—there’s nothing worse than lusting after a guy who doesn’t feel the same way. It’s why I almost never flirt or come on to guys while I’m working or traveling; they seem to always want someone more connected, someone richer, someone thinner. Or they’re dangerously skeevy and give off a cocaine cowboy vibe. So I don’t even try.

  Tonight feels like the perfect night to try, because I know Max feels the same way. His genuine smiles, the way he looks into my eyes, how he’s asking lots of questions—all signs point to yes, yes, yes.

  “So you have no permanent address. Where were you before here, and where are you headed next? And, where are you originally from?”

  I step a little closer to him. God, his voice is the right tone of gravelly and low. There’s no way I’m going to tell him about my family back home in Ohio. Not with how perfect and successful his family appears to be.

  “I was in Italy, headed to Dubai after this. Supposed to spend ten days at a luxury hotel. I was hoping Kate…” I rein in my words. Eek. Nope. I can’
t spill these details either. Especially not to the groom’s brother.

  “I was hoping to stay a little while on the island to spend time with Kate. After Damien leaves, so she’s not too upset,” I say quickly.

  He turns his head to look at Damien and Kate, who are standing on the other side of the bonfire. She’s almost swallowed by his big arms, and I can’t help but notice how her expression is positively blissful.

  “An interesting situation, Damien and Kate, no?”

  “Mmm.” Hopefully I sound noncommittal. I take a sip of my beer and glance at his cheekbones, which are angular and foxy.

  “Were you surprised they fell for each other so quickly?” He’s studying my face, and I’m worried I’ll betray her secret. “Because I was. We all were.”

  “Nope,” I say briskly. I hate lying, but I also don’t want to be the one who reveals Kate’s secret to the Hastings family. “She talked about how she had a crush on him all through high school, and how he was the one guy who didn’t bully her. I wasn’t surprised at all. Sometimes love happens quickly.”

  “Guess so,” he murmurs, then opens his mouth.

  I’m afraid he’s going to ask more questions about Kate and Damien, so I speak first and shift from foot to foot.

  “I really, really have to use the bathroom. Could you point me in the direction of where it is inside the resort? Or is there one by the pool?” I pretend to peer over his shoulder, but really, it’s an excuse to get a little closer so I can smell him.

  “I’ll take you there. C’mon.” He gestures with his head, and I follow him.

  The bathroom’s not far and is, indeed, near the pool.

  “I’ll wait for you. Don’t want you walking on the dark beach alone.”

  I grin and open the door to the ladies’ room. Such a gentleman.

  Inside, I peer at myself in the mirror. I don’t really have to pee, but I did want to check on my hair and makeup. The former is wild, and the latter has been sandblasted off my face by the salt spray and the breeze. My cheeks are a flushed pink, and my eyes are wide and bright.

  It’s a different look for me, and one I don’t recognize.