Play It Again (20 page)

I let out a loud laugh and he grimaces,
looking back at the coffee pot, glaring at it as though it will
make it brew faster. “Oh God, I’m sorry. I should have warned you.
I didn’t think he’d leave so early.”

“He’s not gone,” Jimmy says. “He’s in the
garage.”

Wait … What?

“He’s in the garage?” I ask, my brow
furrowing. “Why is he in the garage?”

Jimmy rolls his eyes, opening his mouth to
respond, but I don’t wait for his answer, turning away from him and
moving through the living room, heading for the door that leads to
the garage.

I find Vance winding the garden hose on the
reel when I open the door. He looks up and smiles as I tentatively
make my way down the steps toward him. “You’re awake.”

“You are, too,” I say. “What are you doing
out here?”

He raises an eyebrow, his expression amused
as he says, “Just finished washing down the driveway.”

I blink at him, dumbfounded, still half
asleep and out of it. He washed down my driveway? I don’t know what
to say. “Um … wow, thank you,” I say. “You didn’t have to do
that.”

He laughs at my reaction. “We’re taking off
for the afternoon. Wanted this done before we leave.”

“We’re taking off for the afternoon,” I
parrot, blinking at him again, caught off guard.

He nods. “Yeah, we are.”

“Um … where are we going?”

Vance chuckles, shaking his head at my
reaction. “You’ll see when we get there.”

I roll my eyes. He looks so relaxed, sounds
so confident that I’m going to just drop everything and follow him
blindly.

Most days I think I would.

“I’m supposed to get my stitches out today,”
I remind him. “The appointment’s at twelve-fifteen, so, uh, I can’t
just take off.”

“I remember,” he says. “It’ll take five
minutes to get those stitches out, and then we’re gonna go have
some fun.”

“But it’s Friday. What about drinks with the
guys?”

He lets out a laugh of disbelief, and steps
toward me. “Are you making excuses, Piper? Trying to get out of
spending some time with me?”

I laugh as his words strike me, because they
sound utterly ridiculous, but my amusement doesn’t last long when I
notice his dead serious expression. I open my mouth to respond—to
say what, I really don’t know—but he doesn’t give me a chance to
speak.

“Because if that’s what you’re doing, you can
forget it,” he continues. “Go get dressed while I finish up here.
And pack a swimsuit. I’ll be there in a few minutes to help you
with the picnic.”

Vance

Two and a half hours later, Piper’s standing
on a dock at the Sacramento Marina, looking down at my boat. I’d
taken her to get her stitches out, spending far more time in the
waiting room than it did to have the things removed, and she’s had
a hand in her hair, unconsciously scratching at her fresh scar
since we left.

She looks perplexed, chewing on her bottom
lip as she takes in the boat. It’s nothing overly special—nothing
like the sailboat I used to own—just an older cabin cruiser, but
the way she’s looking at it, fuck if it doesn’t make me
nervous.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

I probably should have asked her if she was
interested in boating before bringing her out here, but damn, I
really want her to like it.

Like it as much as I do.

Piper tilts her head, shifting slightly to
look back at me. A hint of a smile touches her lips, before
morphing into a full-blown grin. “I can’t believe you have a boat
and I didn’t know about it.”

I smile at the sound of her anticipation, the
knot in my gut slowly unwinding. “You probably didn’t know because
Kim’s not allowed anywhere near it unsupervised.”

She turns around, facing me fully, raising
her eyebrows in surprise. “Why is that?”

I chuckle. “She thought it’d be a great idea
to take it out and party on it. Cost me nearly five grand in
repairs and cleaning when she brought it back.”

Shock freezes her in place as she stares at
me, stunned for a tick, before her pretty lips turn down in a pout,
and she lets out a rueful laugh. “I can’t believe she didn’t invite
me.”

“I’ve had this thing about four years now,” I
say. “Her party happened a long time before you showed up.”

“I’ve never been on a boat before.” She looks
back at it. “I’ve always wanted to. Is it as fun as it looks?”

“Climb on and find out,” I say, motioning
with my hand for her to hop in.

Hesitantly, she grasps onto my arm, carefully
jumping in. Once she’s steady, I grab the foam cooler off the dock,
following her on board and moving straight to the cockpit, setting
the cooler down.

Piper drops her bag on the deck and wanders
about the boat, checking out the deck, running her fingers along
the seats, as I quickly move around, getting us ready.

After her thorough inspection, she perches on
the seat beside the steering wheel, watching me curiously.

Christ, I fuckin’ love the way she looks at
me, the way her eyes trace over me, as though she’s trying to
memorize everything about me.

“Jesus, it’s hot out today,” she says,
pulling her long hair off her neck and holding it in a bunch on top
of her head.

“It won’t be bad once we get out on the
water,” I tell her. “You can change in the cabin, though, while I
get us moving, if you want.”

Piper hesitates for a tick, seemingly unsure
if she wants to put on her swimsuit, but the heat eventually wins
out, and she grabs her bag, disappearing into the cabin. She’s only
gone for a few minutes, just long enough for me to untie the boat,
and get us out and away from the docks, before she emerges from the
cabin, wearing a barely there bikini. It’s white, tied to her with
blue strings at her hips, and around her neck and back.

My eyes instinctively scan her body, taking
in all the curves and dips and dimples. The material of her
swimsuit covers her most intimate places, but otherwise leaves
little shielded from my sight.

So damn pretty.

My cock perks up, hardening once again within
the constraints of my jeans. I’ve been in a state of semi-hard
since seeing her again, and after last night, curling up with her
and feeling her soft warmth pressed against me, seeing her in that
tiny thing is nearly unbearable to look at and it takes every bit
of self-restraint I have to not reach over and haul her to me.

The flush of her cheeks tells me very clearly
she’s caught me openly checking her out, and the small smile lets
me know that she’s not unhappy about the way I’m staring. She makes
her way over to me, perching on the edge of the seat beside
mine.

Piper doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t ask where
we’re going or what the plan is. She just sits back, and enjoys the
wind and the water as her eyes scan the shoreline, her face split
into a wide smile.

It’s … awesome.

We cruise around for a while. Piper laughs
and smiles, and although she chats a little, she seems more than
content in just experiencing the boat ride.

She doesn’t bring up her case. Doesn’t
question the security system again, or ask what the new plan
is.

She just relaxes and seeing her like this,
all loose and smiling, makes me feel so goddamn good.

Eventually, I slow down, pulling the boat off
to the side of the river. I drop the anchors, and we settle down on
the large L-shaped couch at the back of the boat, the cooler
settled on the floor between us.

“You know,” Piper says, settling in, pulling
her legs up under her. “I think this is exactly what I needed. I
don’t remember ever feeling this relaxed. Not even in Mexico.”

I laugh. “We’ll have to make this a regular
thing then.”

She looks at me, a tiny frown tugging her
lips. “Do you do this a lot?”

“Do what?” I ask curiously.

“Make picnics and bring girls out here,” she
asks, her voice hesitant, as though maybe she doesn’t actually want
to hear the answer.

I stare at Piper.

She stares right back at me.

Jesus, she sounds … jealous. She looks it,
too.

It’s a pretty look on her.

Always so damn pretty.

I grin at her, and then pull the lid off the
cooler, reaching in and retrieving a beer.

“You’re the first,” I say, twisting off the
cap and handing it to her. “Don’t bring too many people out here,
actually.”

Her eyes widen. “What?”

“You’re the first,” I say again, reaching
over to her, lightly trailing the back of my knuckles along the
curve where her neck and shoulder meets. It’s a barely there touch,
but the contact makes her shiver and blush. “And I’ve never made a
picnic for anyone before you either.”

“I, uh, I …” her blush deepens and her voice
wobbles. “Really?”

She’s nervous and she takes a long pull from
her beer.

“Really,” I say, letting my hand fall away,
wanting to put her at ease. I reach into the cooler, grabbing a
beer for myself, twisting it open.

When I glance back at her, she’s staring at
me, confused, as though I haven’t answered her question at all, so
I decide to elaborate.

“This is my getaway, the place I come to
clear my head. The guys come out with me every once in a while, but
for the most part I keep the boat to myself. It’s … special to me,
sacred even. I don’t bring just anyone out here.”

“So it’s a special place,” she reiterates,
surprised. “
Your
special place.”

I take a pull from my beer. “Essentially,
yeah.”

My response relaxes her, and she beams at me
as though being here makes her special, too.

It does.

She is special to me.

“Do you spend a lot of time on the
water?”

“Not so much anymore,” I say. “But whenever I
get a chance, I take her out. I used to have a sailboat, back
before I started working with Jase and Wes. Spent the summers on
it, going wherever I felt like.”

A flicker of surprise passes across her eyes,
but she wipes it away quickly, giving me another small smile. “I’ve
thought about getting a boat. It would be cool to spend a summer
sailing. My parents did it once and I have all these pictures of
them, before us kids were born, on the boat in the Caribbean.”

“You should do it,” I say. “It’s fuckin’
amazing, best experience I’ve ever had.”

“Yeah, maybe someday,” she says, looking from
me to her beer, then back at me, before reaching into the cooler
and pulling out the roast beef sandwiches and container of potato
salad.

The day speeds away, early afternoon slipping
by before I know it. We eat, and talk, joking around and laughing,
just like any normal couple.

It’s … odd, and completely unexpected, but I
gotta admit, I love it.

Love every second of it.

Our picnic is cleaned up, all the wrappers
and containers stuffed back into the cooler, and after a couple
beers, Piper stretches herself out on the couch, her head in my
lap, soaking up the sun.

She looks so … happy.

Relaxed.

Content.

Looking down at her, I trace lazy lines
across her skin. If it weren’t so fucking hot out here, I don’t
think I’d ever move from this spot. But I’m sweating, and Piper’s
skin is turning pink, even though she’s been lathering on that
sunscreen of hers like crazy.

“You’re starting to burn,” I say. “Let’s get
you out of the sun for a bit, yeah?”

Piper smiles contentedly up at me. She says
nothing as she slips off my lap, standing up and grabbing her beer
off the floor, before wandering over toward the steps.

I follow her, flicking on the light and
cranking up the air conditioner when we make it inside the
cabin.

I expect her to cover up and throw her dress
on, but she doesn’t, instead choosing to wander around the small
cabin in that skimpy little bikini.

It’s torture.

The best kind of torture.

She sets her beer down on the table, and runs
a hand along the tees and shorts, stacked up on the shelf. She
opens cupboards, poking around, checking everything out.

Sitting on the couch, which converts into a
double bed, I watch her intently, not saying a word as she openly
snoops. The sun did a number on her today; her shoulders, her
chest, even her nose is pink.

Eventually, she makes her way over to me,
letting out a startled shriek when the boat rocks, before bursting
out with laughter as she falls right into me, losing her balance. I
grunt when her knee jabs into my side, and she giggles, grinning at
me as she climbs onto my lap, straddling me.

Not what I anticipated her doing, but there’s
no goddamn way I’m going to complain about it.

Piper wraps her arms around me, cocking her
head to the side, regarding me curiously. “I have no idea what I’m
doing here. Why me? Why now after all this time?”

I don’t respond to that because she doesn’t
give me a chance. All of a sudden, her mouth is on mine, and her
hands, shaky and nervous, are tugging at the hem of my tee, pulling
it up my chest.

“What are you doing?” I sound baffled because
I am, but there’s no way I’m going to stop her, not when her small,
soft hands are brushing against my abs and sides invitingly.

She leans back at my question, though her
hands don’t still, yanking my shirt over my head. “I don’t know.
All I know is that I want you; I have for years and—” she gently
grinds herself against my thickening cock, “I’m pretty sure you
want me, too.”

I nearly laugh. Of course I want her.

Been wanting her for years.

But, ah fuck me, if I can’t get the damn
words out, because her hands are sliding down my abs, fingertips
dipping into the front of my jeans, working the button and zipper,
and her lips are back on mine.

I should stop her. Make sure she’s sure about
this. She’s had a few beers, and although I know she’s not drunk,
she’s most likely still feeling a buzz.