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The Man I Want to Be (Under Covers)(5)

By:Christina Elle


Hopefully her masseuse was well versed in working out mangled heart muscles.

 …

The week from hell. That's what this was going to be. Everything Tyke  had locked away for the last decade, all the guilt he thought he'd  finally come to terms with, was going to be put on display at this damn  wedding. He wasn't ready.

Maybe if he could apologize to her. Find the right place. The right  time. Explain why he never came back. She'd understand. Then he could  finally swallow this guilt he'd been carrying around like an extra  organ.

How about twelve years ago? That would've been the perfect time to come clean, huh, dickhead?

Sure, it would've. If he hadn't been so ashamed of himself in the first place.

Goddamn, she looked good. Too good. Seeing her again filled Tyke with a  need to reach out and touch her. Stroke her face. Pull her to him. Feel  her against his body.         

     



 

Which would be the worst idea, since she hated him. They'd avoid each  other this week, she'd said. It was for the best. But Christ was it  going to be hard to stay away from her. After all this time, he still  wanted her, even if it wasn't the best thing long term. He still craved  to be with her.

The sun had set hours ago, so the only light came from strategically  placed tiki torches and the faint glow of the resort about a hundred  yards away. Another one of Sam's wonderful ideas-they were told to  gather on the beach for a luau.

White tables and chairs filled the area. There was a pig roast, fresh  fruits and vegetables, and, of course, his favorite: free drinks.  Everyone was either seated at a table-Sam and Cass were nice enough to  assign seats-or they stood, mingling with one another.

Tyke had gone back to the bar four times and still didn't feel drunk  enough to get through this. He'd finally given up on the extra steps  from his assigned table to the bar and decided to stay back there.

He stood in the appetizer line, piling tortilla chips and taco dip onto a  plate when a woman's voice caught his attention. The sound traveled  from behind him.

"I'm telling you, I wore it on the plane here. But I can't find it." The rushed, concerned sound in her tone made Tyke pause.

He glanced over his shoulder at a fifty-something couple seated with  their side profiles to him. The wife, wearing a bright-pink sleeveless  dress, looked at her husband with a distraught expression.

The husband, with salt-and-pepper hair styled like a weatherman, polo  shirt and tan shorts, placed a reassuring hand on his wife's shoulder.  "We'll search again when we get back to our room, Claire. I'm sure you  just overlooked it."

"It's my mother's watch, Richard. I don't even know why I took it off. I  should've left it on when we went to the beach earlier."

"We'll find it," he said. "Don't worry."

Her eyes went glassy, and she blinked rapidly. "I hope so."

Tyke turned back to the food, giving the couple the privacy they needed. Hopefully they found what she was looking for.

He approached the bar with plate in hand. Dropping a big tip, he asked the bartender to keep the refills coming.

He must have looked like a lonely, pathetic son of a bitch sipping his  beer and eating his chips, because Ash, Luke, and Jason joined him.

He'd rather look lonely and pathetic over the company of these assholes.

"So." Calder reached onto Tyke's plate and popped a chip into his mouth. "You were engaged, huh?"

Tyke grunted.

Ash leaned across and picked up a chip of his own. He scooped a huge  helping of taco dip and shoved it into his mouth. Through the mouthful,  he said, "You actually put a ring on a woman's finger."

He had. Her late mother's sapphire ring, to be exact. But he wasn't  going there. He'd be damned if he opened up to Luke and Ash about what  happened. What he'd done. How he'd treated Kenna. Instead, Tyke handed  the plate to Calder. He preferred beer for dinner anyway. He gulped the  ice-cold liquid like it was his last dying breath.

Wasn't doing much, though. He was going to need something stronger than beer. Maybe a few dozen shots.

"So what spooked you about Kenna?" Luke tossed another chip into his  mouth, chewed, then swallowed. "Her hot-ass body? Sexy blue eyes? Killer  smile?"

"Yeah," Ash said, elbowing Luke in the ribs. "I can totally see why you'd run from that one. Total dog." He shuddered.

Reese was the only one of the group not to comment, and that's because  his attention was hooked on the other side of the beach, where his cute  blonde from earlier was standing. She sipped from a glass filled with  pink liquid, occasionally sending coy come-hither looks Reese's way.

"Think she'll show?" Ash asked Luke, shielding a grin behind the top of his beer.

No need to guess who Ash meant. Kenna wasn't at the luau. Not that Tyke  had been looking for her. Just happened to spot her name on the seating  chart, and happened to see the empty seat at table four where she  should've been.

Luke set the empty plate on the bar behind them, then propped his elbows  on the counter. "No way she's coming tonight. Did you see how much  force she put behind that punch? Pretty impressive for such a petite  thing."

She did put a lot of force into hitting him. Which was unexpected. He  knew she'd be mad if she ever saw him again. Hell, he was mad. He'd be  pissed for the rest of his life because of what he'd done to her. To  them. But Kenna? He hadn't expected just how mad she'd be after so many  years. He'd hoped eventually she'd get over him. Move on. Find some  other dope to marry and have a litter of babies. It's why he hadn't gone  back to her. She deserved better than what he could give her.         

     



 

But she hadn't moved on. Not if her anger level was any indication. It boggled his mind that she'd held on to it for so long.

And it raised his temperature. Her ire had always been his downfall.  That woman had a temper like a great white on steroids, and the ferocity  she used to unleash between the sheets had been something he'd never  found since.

She was one of kind and had fit him to a T.

Too bad he didn't fit her.

With his cock stirring in his shorts, he bit back a groan and glanced  down at the perspiring bottle in his hand. He was definitely going to  need something stronger.

Tyke spun to the bar, flagging down the bartender as his two friends  continued to debate whether Kenna would come to the scheduled dinner. It  was better if she didn't. Then they wouldn't have to keep up pretenses  or make the effort to avoid each other. Plus, Tyke didn't have to worry  about staring at her all night, watching the way her hips swayed and her  ass clenched as she tried to get as far away from him as possible.

Shots. He definitely needed shots.

The bartender came over and glanced down at Tyke's beer. "Another, sir?"

He shook his head. "Stronger. Give me something stronger."

A look of understanding passed between them. "Yes, sir." He reached  behind the bar, pulling out a bottle Tyke recognized all too well. It  was the same liquor he'd drank during the time in his life he shall not  mention again. Tyke knew firsthand how effective it was at dulling all  manner of pain.

An arm slapped across his shoulders. "Hitting the good stuff already, I  see." Luke's grinning face dropped into his view. "Damn, this chick has  you all screwed in the head."

Tyke tried to shrug him off, but Luke was unperturbed. "Don't you have a fiancée to please?"

"Every single night," Calder said. "Sometimes twice."

Tyke gave him a sidelong look. "That wasn't an opening for you to wave  your tiny dick around. It was a hint for you to leave me the hell  alone."

"Oh, come on, Big Bear," Ash said on his other side. "What's the fun in that?"

Tyke twisted to look over his shoulder, anticipating Reese's attack any  second. But the guy was already on the other side of the sand, chatting  it up with the blonde. At least somebody was going to have fun this  week.

By the time Tyke came back around, the bartender had poured his shot. He'd also poured one for Ash and one for Luke.

The pinheads lifted their short glasses in the air, waiting.

"A toast? Really?" Tyke asked, but reached for his glass. "What exactly  are we celebrating? You two idiots going home in chains?"

Neither man took the bait. Both smiled in a secret way that made Tyke's stomach churn. "Let's get this over with."

Once Tyke lifted his glass to match the height of theirs, Ash spoke, "May all of our ups and downs be under the covers."

"Nice," Luke said, grinning. "How about: may the girls with itty bitties, let you pet their kitties."

Tyke snorted.

"What?" Luke asked.

"So fucking stupid," Tyke said. "That's the same broke-ass toast you've been using since the dawn of time."

A line formed between Luke's eyes. "It's funny."

"Maybe the first time you used it. It's lost its juice after the millionth time."

"Think you can do better?" Luke said. "Let's hear it."