Sandcastle Kisses: A Billionaire Love Story (2 page)

Think, think...
“I got nothing.”

The three men laughed again, and somehow they seemed to relax even more.

“Bob. His name's Bob,” Jack grinned. “I guess you don't know Noah's or my last names?”

“If I didn't know his first name, how the heck am I supposed to know your
last
names?” I reasoned with him. His grin got bigger. “Why, are you guys famous or something?”

“Or something,” Noah said, handing “Bob” his completed Angel's Tit. “Bob” tossed a ten dollar bill into the tip jar.

Two more men entered the man cave, getting past Hawaiian-shirt Bodyguard Dean with a nod. One was tall and slender with messy honey-colored curls that looked perfect for tangling fingers in. The other was portly and pale, the lines of his face suggesting that the sour look was his usual, permanent expression. His suit looked expensive, but it didn't fit him right and it looked out of place among the other guests' casual t-shirts and shorts.

“Joe!” Jack called out, hurrying over to shake the attractive man's hand. “Joe” got a very confused look on his face.

“Dude, this is Paul...” “Joe” said, patting Jack's shoulder as if he were a confused child. “You've met him before.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “No,
you're
Joe. Our bartender doesn't know who we are.” Jack grinned as “Joe's” eyes lit up as he got it.

“The fake name game? I love it. I guess he's still Paul, then.” “Joe” inclined his head at the heavy-set man bee-lining his way to the bar. “Who's everybody else?”

“I already introduced myself as Jack. Same with Noah. But “Bob” did not.”

“Lucky Bob, then. Noah's here? Awesome.” Joe turned to the bar, and I felt his eyes do a once over down my body. “Lucky Noah, actually.” At least the last part was quiet enough that I could imagine he hadn't meant me to hear it.

“Give me some of that 1954 Mccallan scotch, sweetheart,” Paul said.” And don't be stingy.” His eyes slid down the opening of my shirt like he owned me. I fought the urge to button up. Hopefully he tipped as well as his friends.

I poured him a generous glass of the amber liquid and set it on the counter. He took one small sip, a smile crossing his thin lips before slamming the rest of it down. I tried not to look horrified. Scotch, especially a bottle that probably cost around three grand, should not be slammed back like a shot. It would be like using a Monet as toilet paper.

“One more, honey,” Paul rasped. He coughed slightly at the alcohol burning his esophagus. I guess when you had rich friends, it was tempting to use their nice things in a way you wouldn't normally. I tried to forgive him a little, but it was hard. “If you want some fun later...” He winked and dropped a quarter in the tip jar.

I poured a modest glass, and this time he picked it up and sipped rather than chugging. He gave me that thin-lipped smile that made my stomach curdle a little and went to sit on the couch with “Joe” and “Bob.” Jack was starting up a game of some sort on the giant TV screen. Paul turned down an offer for a controller, looking at the black plastic like it might bite him.

“Don't mind him,” Noah said, leaning up on the bar beside me. “He's usually pretty harmless. I can't believe Lo—I mean “Joe”—brought him, though.”

“He's not a friend of Jack's?” I asked, wiping down the empty Naughty Shirley glass.

“Not really.” Noah shook his head. “He's a lawyer. He's helped us all out at some point or another. I'm just surprised he came. This isn't exactly his type of party.”

I looked over at the man on the couch, sipping away on his scotch and glaring at the TV. I could see him at a loud club, leering at the girls, and telling them all how terribly important he was. Sitting on a couch with a bunch of barely-thirty-somethings playing
Halo
didn't exactly fit him.

I shook the beer pitcher, rattling the quarter from Paul. “At least he's a good tipper.”

Noah laughed, putting his hand on my shoulder. It was like sexual lighting hit me. Heat flooded my stomach, and if I were less of a lady and more a caveman, I would have thrown him over my shoulder and found a bedroom somewhere. I had no idea it was even possible to have that strong a connection just by someone casually touching my shoulder.

I glanced up at Noah, wondering if he felt it too, but he just smiled down at me like he was actually just interested in the tip jar. Except those eyes. They held a blue fire that told me he had felt something too, despite what the rest of his face said.

He cleared his throat, releasing my shoulder and getting a cup of Malibu and Coke for himself. “So, you live here on the island?”

“Yeah.” I grabbed one for myself. Rachel
did
say to have a good time. “You just here for the party?”

Noah nodded. “I'm here for a couple of days. My schedule is pretty open, though.”

“If you want, I'd be happy to show you around the island. I mean, if “Bob” doesn't want the honor,” I offered. Noah's face split into a grin. He nodded and opened his mouth to speak, but a new guest cut him off.

“H
ello, Party People!” A man that resembled Jack stepped off the bottom stairs wearing an obnoxiously bright orange Hawaiian shirt. “Looking good, Dean,” the man said, patting the big bodyguard on the chest. Dean rolled his eyes.

“Oh, look, my brother is here,” Jack said blithely, hitting pause on his game and rising to his feet. “Noah, Izzy, hide the booze so there's some for everybody else.”

“Hey, big bro. Love you too.” The mini-Jack grinned and came up to the bar. “The usual please, Noah.”

“Your name tonight is 'Sam',” Noah told him, pulling out several kinds of liquor. “Izzy here doesn't recognize us.”

“Sam's” face went blank for a moment, as though the name meant something to him, but then he put on a dazzling, fake smile. “Seriously?”

“Yup. This is “Bob” and “Joe's” idea, but go with it.” Noah pointed to each man to name him. “Jack, Paul and I are already outed.”

Sam thought for a moment then grinned. “Let's make it even more interesting. If you figure out everyone's name by the end of the night, I'll give you...” He opened up his wallet and counted his cash. I was expecting it to be around $20. “Two thousand dollars. No cheating and looking it up on your phone. Real detective work. Don't skimp on the cherries, Noah.”

I nearly dropped my drink.
Two thousand dollars!
For figuring out some soon-to-be-drunk men's names. I worked in a bar with tourists who loved this game; this was going to be easy.

I leaned up against the bar, making sure he could see the cleavage in my shirt. “And if I don't?”

“You have to go out on a date with me.”

“Sam” was cute. Even if I lost, it wasn't going to be the worst night in the world. At least it wasn't a date with Paul. I felt Noah stiffen slightly as he set the amaretto down hard on the counter.
Jealousy
? Nah, he hadn't known me for more than an hour.

“Deal.” I reached out my hand and Sam gave it a firm squeeze. “But just the guys who are here now. Just Bob, Joe, and Sam.”

“Fair enough.” Sam grinned.

“Here's your Screaming Orgasm, '
Sam'
,” Noah said, his voice slightly flat. “Sam” grinned and took a big sip.

“You always know the way to my heart,” he said to the bartender. Noah rolled his eyes.

“I didn't think Screaming Orgasms usually came with cherries,” I said, looking at the drink that was normally a shot. He held a good-sized tumbler of the layered drink with cherries dotting the surface.

“Sam” picked one up with his fingers, put it neatly between his teeth and split it open. “But a screaming orgasm is the best way to pop a cherry.”

I felt my cheeks heat. I had walked right into that one.

“Noah, Izzy!” Jack called out. “More drinks!”

I turned from “Sam” to see Noah ready with a fresh Naughty Shirley and something with an inordinate amount of whipped cream. “For 'Bob'. I'll have 'Joe's' ready in a second.”

I took the two drinks and carefully maneuvered out from behind the bar and over to the game area. The current match ended just as I arrived, going to the award screen. The “OwenedU” had won and “Bob” was up and doing a victory dance.

“Here you go, Jack,” I said, handing him his Naughty Shirley. “And here's your drink,
Owen
.”

Owen's dancing stopped and he turned, his face dropping. “So you do know who we are?”

“Owen was actually a guess,
OwenedU,”
I said. He sank into his chair and groaned. “But thanks for the confirmation. One down, two to go.” I gave him a smile as he took his drink. He got whipped cream on his nose as he tasted it. I went back to the bar and got the drink Noah had ready. “Joe's?” Noah nodded. “Sam” raised his glass in salute to my first name.

The boys were back in a furious battle, and this time I didn't have any hints on the other two gamertags. I was determined that “Joe” was going to be my next discovery. I had a feeling “Sam” was going to be the hardest, since he was the one paying me and benefited from me losing. Plus, from Noah's earlier almost slip, I knew “Joe's” real name started with a Lo- sound, but that could be Logan, Louis, Loren, Lou, or even a last name.

I grinned as I came up behind them. The match was close. I had played Xbox enough with my little brother to know how to read the game. This was almost too easy.

“Joe. Drink for Joe.” I called out. The three men were so intent on their game that no one responded, which was exactly what I wanted.

I called out again, louder this time. No response. I grinned wider.

I waited until the play clock dropped lower.  OwenedU and JACKedUP were tied in kill counts with GUEST hot on their heels. It was crunch time for them now, and that was precisely when I stepped in front of the TV screen.

“Drink for Joe,” I said as innocently as I could. Owen swore, and Jack craned his neck to look around me. “Joe” nearly fell out of his seat trying to see the screen. I held the drink up higher, blocking more of the game.

“Just take the damn drink, Logan!” Jack hissed before realizing his mistake. He let the control drop to his lap, and he looked up at me, eyes narrowed in speculation as the game ended. Owen won the match again. “You did that on purpose, didn't you?”

“Maybe. Your brother bet me I couldn't get everyone's name by the end of the night, and now he's the only one left with a pseudonym.” I handed Logan his drink, moving away from the TV.

Jack raised his eyebrow at me and looked over at his brother. “Just first names?”

I nodded, surprised at how much they wanted to keep their identities secret from me.

“If you can get his name out of him, I'll match whatever he offered you.”

My jaw nearly hit the floor. Four thousand dollars if I could just get one more name. Holy freaking cow, was this night suddenly very profitable. I had hoped to get maybe an extra hundred dollars and a nice little paycheck for working this evening, and here I was with an opportunity to get four grand.

“Are you sure? I mean, he offered two thousand dollars, and I don't want to put you in a tight spot,” I said.

“Just two?” Jack frowned. He yelled across the room at his brother, “You're getting cheap, bro!”

“Sam” just grinned at him from the bar where he was talking with Noah.

“What are we calling him anyway?” Jack asked.

“Sam,” I told him, picking up a couple of empty drink cups. Jack laughed.

“Oh, I bet he loves that. Sam was the name of his girlfriend in middle school.”

“She was not my girlfriend!” “Sam” yelled at Jack, unfortunately sounding exactly like a middle-schooler.

“Right, that's why you cried—ouch, man!” Jack stopped his teasing as Owen smacked his arm.

“I know it's your party, but I don't want you two to brawl again. Especially over that. Leave it,” Owen warned. Owen's blue eyes darkened as he stared Jack down. Jack glared at him for a moment and then shrugged.

“Rematch?” Jack asked, changing the subject. The tension in the room lightened again as they started up a new game and the sound of gunfire filled the “Man Cave.”

As I headed back to the bar, three more men came into the basement. Dean gave them each the evil eye as they passed under his careful watch, but they just came in like they were used to him. They joined the group on the couch, filling the fourth spot and starting to shout and laugh.

Noah and I started getting busy. The newcomers wanted drinks, and luckily they weren't all girly Noah specialties. Two local girls, Lana and Rosie, came in with platters full of food and began wandering around the room offering up the tasty treats.

It was a real party now. I grinned at Noah as party-goers kept coming up to the bar and requesting drinks. Noah and I worked in tandem as if we had always worked together. It was almost like we were dancing behind the bar. I would reach for the ice, brushing up against him as he went to open the chest for me. We'd reach for matching bottles on the shelf, our fingers caressing for a brief second. Every touch sent electricity crackling over my skin.

“Can you make me a Climax Cocktail?” I called out to him. He shot me a naughty grin.

“Anytime, Izzy,” he said with a wink. “But I'm going to need more whipped cream.”

Several of the guests laughed, getting in on the naughty drinks and starting to make up their own to keep us busy. I could have sworn they started looking up drinks on their phones just so that they could ask for them and have us shout them across the bar at one another.

“Izzy, can you get me a Redheaded Slut?”

“Sure, but I need to give these guys some Blue Balls first.” That one got a nice chuckle from my male audience.

“Screaming Orgasm and Between the Sheets. And the Slow, Comfortable Screw are ready.” Noah managed to keep a straight face, which was better than I was doing.

“Sit on My Face, Panty Dropper and a Gin Tonic,” I called out, glad for the normal drink. The patrons all turned and looked at Logan as he picked up his non-dirty named drink.

“What? I like Gin and Tonics,” he said with a laugh.

It was getting later into the night, and things finally started to slow down again. The TV held most of the crowd's attention. A huge whiteboard displayed a chart with everyone's names in a tournament bracket. It hung on the wall behind the couch, and the various teams were yelling and cheering on their teammates and friends. Unfortunately for me, “Sam” had decided not to play and didn't have his name on the board.