“Exactly, dear.” She chuckles. “You’re so much like me when I was your age, except they’d never have let us wear tiny bathing suits like yours.” She gazes out over the ocean, lost in thought for a moment. “I absolutely could have, just so that’s clear. I was lovely back then.”
I laugh at the certainty in her voice. It was not a matter to be debated, obviously. “I’m sure you were. I bet you had the guys falling at your feet no matter how you dressed.”
She purses her lips, looking unamused. “Are you teasing me, young lady?”
“Absolutely not.” Hopefully, my smile looks friendly as intended and not patronizing.
Her lips stay tight a moment longer, as if she’s weighing my response. Apparently it’s good enough, since her smile returns. “In that case, do you really want to live the rest of your life wondering what might have been?” She eases back onto her deck chair and pulls her hat into her eyes. “Think about it. Life’s too short. Trust me.”
“Did you ever regret it?” I ask quietly.
“My husbands?”
I nod.
“There were times I had my doubts, but looking back?” Her wrinkled face goes soft and distant. “Not a moment, even the bad ones.” She looks like she wants to be alone with the memories, so I turn to my own thoughts.
I feel a little more resolved to work something out with Gavin, but what? Marry him? I already tried that and it didn’t really work out. Blowing the hair out of my eyes, I lean back into the deck chair and close my eyes.
One of us is going to have to make the first move, but will it be me?
Chapter 33: Gavin
I’m the shark, not the minnow, but someone forgot to tell these fancy-ass bitches that. Somehow word’s gotten out that my sham of a marriage is in trouble, and now I’m practically holding fucking auditions for the next Mrs. Caldwell. The girls won’t leave me the hell alone. In the bar, on deck. Hell, one actually knocked on the door to my room last night. It’d be fucking nice some days to not be a Caldwell.
I’ve barely thought the thought when a bleach blonde with balloon tits crammed into a skimpy red bikini slides onto the stool next to me, orders one of those chick drinks with an umbrella and a long straw. She sucks on it like it’s a cock, while she grins mischievously and looks at me through her long eyelashes.
I make a point of turning my back to her while I sip my scotch. What’s wrong with me? Only a few weeks ago, I would’ve been all over that. Drag her to my suite, fuck her silly and that’s it. No strings, no obligations. Just fucking. Hit it and quit it. Buy her a little something nice, like maybe a top that actually fits, and she’d be happy as a clam.
Now? I’m not even fucking interested.
Apparently my cold shoulder’s obvious enough, since the blonde stomps away with her drink, probably looking for someone who’ll play her games.
It’s all Angie’s fault. She broke me.
For the first time, someone made me work for it. And the biggest fucking joke? When I thought I won, turns out I lost. She won, because she’s out there enjoying herself and I’m in here with my brain stuck on the one woman who wants nothing to do with me.
It’s like I wake up, think of Angie, jerk off, take a shower, think of Angie, jerk off, go out, think of Angie, and while I don’t jerk off, I think about going back to my suite to take care of business. Because she’s in under my fucking skin.
And not only is she having the time of her life without me. She’s going places. Fucking med school. What am I doing? Drinking. Go me. Maybe I should’ve stuck it out in business school. If Dad were here he’d be on my case and shouting “I told you so.”
Speaking of Dad, I make another attempt to call out and fix the shitstorm I accidentally threw Marie into. I’ve been trying since Angie told me about it, but the connection has been down since the storm. I tap his picture and surprisingly enough the call goes out. Even more surprisingly, he picks up.
“What do you want?”
Great. He’d better fucking appreciate this. “Hi to you too, Dad.”
“Where the hell are you? I haven’t seen you since last week. Ever thought about showing up for work for a change?” Well, can’t say he doesn’t get straight to the point.
“You’d never believe it, Dad. I’m on a cruise. Isn’t that amazing?” I put a little extra cheer in my voice just to piss him off.
I’m a bit surprised when he laughs. “You took those tickets? What would you do that for? Did you bring a date?” He’s drinking something, and slurps it loudly, probably just to irritate me.