"All right, fine. Uh … " Tyke thought for a second. "To the brave overseas. To the girls on their knees. May neither give up, 'til the job is complete."
"Here, here!" Ash and Luke said.
They were about to drink, but Ash stopped them. "I've got one more." He passed a meaningful look to Luke, then Bryan.
Shit. The touchy-feely stuff. Marriage was making pussies out of his best friends.
"From here on out," Ash started, "may the worst of our past never impact the best of our future."
Tyke swallowed whatever had suddenly lodged in his throat. He gave these guys a lot of crap, but he loved them like brothers and would always have their backs.
"Salud."
They slammed their glasses onto the bar and then lifted them to their mouths to down the liquid in one take. It burned like a bitch, but it was also soothing in a way that only alcohol could be. It eased Tyke's tension and took the edge off … finally.
"Excuse me," a voice said through a microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen."
Casual chatter of those sitting at tables quieted.
Sam and Cass stood on a small stage in matching white dresses, bright pink flowers in their hair, with mics in hand.
"I think that's our cue," Ash murmured. He turned to Tyke. "Try to have fun tonight."
Tyke pushed the empty shot glass forward for the bartender to refill. "What do you think the liquor's for?"
Ash hitched a thumb in the direction of the tables, and Luke nodded. They both made their way toward their respective brides.
From the stage, the group clamored on, thanking the crowd for coming to the resort to celebrate their weddings and happiness. Blah, blah, blah. When they were done welcoming everyone, they invited their guests to eat dinner. The resort staff called groups by table to stand in line at the buffet.
Bryan faced the bar, leaning over his forearm. He lifted the small glass of refilled amber liquid, twisting it in his hand, watching how the flames from the tiki torches made the contents glow.
Apologize to her. Just man up and do it. Like a Band-Aid, rip the fucker off and endure the sting afterward. It's not like you don't deserve the pain.
Yeah, sure. Just come right out and tell her how worthless you are. That no matter how bad you want to, you can't change. You were too much of a pussy back then to tell her the truth, and you're still too much of a pussy to do it now.
Because you know if you finally tell her, then you're really done. Finished. She won't want your sorry ass anymore.
Which, of course, had been the point. He wrote that email and didn't come back for that very reason. He'd wanted her to move on. Wanted her to forget him. It was easier that way. Then he could convince himself they'd never been good together. That like other young loves, their relationship had run its course.
Complete bullshit, since their relationship hadn't been on the same spectrum as other "young love." It was so much more.
Tyke slammed the full shot down on the bar and scrubbed his face with both hands.
Maybe he'd luck out, and she wouldn't show tonight. She could've already caught the ferry and been back on the mainland. Though he knew that was wishful thinking. Kenna wouldn't leave her friend and great-aunt.
In the far depths of his mind, he realized he probably looked like a dick, hanging out by the bar all night.
Ah, fuck it. Time to be social.
He took a step, but a flash of red made him stop.
It was coming toward him in a rush.
Kenna.
Damn it. His lower stomach clenched, making that shot on top of beers feel like a really stupid idea.
With single-minded efficiency, she bypassed the people in line waiting to eat.
Her motion was stiff as she made her way across the sand in her bright blue-and-green thigh-length dress and bare feet. Her hair had been pulled half up, letting the rest of her mane flow down her back. It was longer than she used to keep it, now resting past her shoulders. On the shorter side in terms of height, she had curves in all the right places without looking stocky. He'd say the major difference was that she looked more mature. Confident. Her eyes more defined, cheekbones seemed higher, and lips a lot fuller. Or maybe it was the pink gloss she had on. How had he not noticed earlier that her lips were that pouty?
She hadn't seen him yet, which was good because as soon as she did, her determined expression would turn cold. So he enjoyed looking at her a minute longer.
Seeing her now, all his memories flooded back. It was sweet, blessed torture. He longed to be able to put his hands on those full hips and drive her toward him. To bury himself inside her until neither one of them could utter a single word except, now.
His cock started to come alive again, and he reminded himself that boners were off-limits this week. If the Red Devil saw it, she'd cut it off.
Goddamn, why did she have to be here?
Chapter Three
Kenna cut across the sand, ignoring the searing pain in her quads and calves. First thing next week, she was calling her trainer.
But for now, she needed a drink. Otherwise, she was going to cause a very big scene in the middle of this lovely dinner.
Someone had stolen her mother's sapphire ring. Right out of Kenna's hotel room. She was pretty sure she'd seen the bastard. And now she was going to calm her frazzled, pissed-off nerves, then turn the entire resort upside down looking for him.
Kenna was about three steps from the bar when she spotted Bryan. Talk about frazzled nerves. Her pulse amplified to a million beats per second. Her palms grew sweaty.
Shit. She didn't need this right now. She needed to calm down. But she couldn't do that with him standing there looking all tempting in his black V-neck T-shirt that flaunted broad, defined shoulders and khaki shorts that showed off muscular calves. Even those damn untied combat boots didn't bother her as much as she wanted them to. Actually, she thought his ensemble was cute-in a barbaric, caveman sort of way.
Damn him.
Catching his stare, she gathered her thoughts and heaved some fortifying breaths before landing at his side.
"Why aren't you at your assigned table?" she barked at him.
"Nice to see you, too." He sipped from a brown bottle. His eyes were glassy and unfocused as his gaze raked over her from head to toe. When his eyes met hers, they flickered with something akin to desire. Which she must have imagined because they didn't want each other anymore. He'd made that perfectly clear.
His gaze grew hotter, and he licked his lips, causing a current of electricity to wash over her.
He'd always known how to look at her just right to make her head spin.
Not this time. Not tonight.
Shaking off the tightness in her belly, she flagged down the bartender and ordered.
Keeping her gaze forward, she addressed him. "Enough with the looks, Bryan. I'm not in the mood."
He propped an elbow on the bar and crossed a black boot over the other. "Wow, what a surprise."
She snapped a look at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"
He lazily raised one shoulder. "I can't remember a time when you ever were in the mood."
Her mouth dropped open, then she snapped it shut. Fine, if he wanted to play that game. "Well, if I'd had something more impressive to get in the mood for … " Her gaze dropped to the front of his shorts, then back up to his eyes. "Maybe I would've taken advantage of it more often."
He pushed off the bar and got in her face. "Bullshit. My dick's the one piece of me you never got enough of."
Kenna patted his chest, which was like petting a brick wall. After noticing she was doing the motion a little longer than necessary, she yanked her hand back. "Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart."
That knocked his cocky attitude down a bit. His features tensed as he glared at her. "Two minutes, Kenna. That's all it'll take to remind you."
"Aww, that's right. I forgot how quick you are."
He stumbled over his words. "Tha-that's not what I meant and you know it."
Kenna shrugged and turned to the bartender, who slid a vodka and lemonade toward her. She lifted her glass and gulped an unladylike amount.
"Those days are long gone," she said, grazing a pass over his abnormally large frame, and sniffed. "You had your chance and you blew it."
"As if I don't already fucking know that," he said.
She gasped, glancing over at the guests who weren't paying a bit of attention to their spat. "Watch your mouth."
He brought his face back down to hers, his blue eyes glittering. "Why? You used to love my filthy mouth."
She huffed a laugh, trying like hell not to remember just how true his statement was. God, the things that man used to do with his teeth, tongue, and lips. She involuntarily shuddered.
Christ on a cracker, McCord. Get your shit together.
"How long has it been, Bryan? Based on all the sexual innuendos, you'd think you've been without a woman in your bed for years."
He drew back. "You're relentless tonight. What the hell has you in such a tizzy?"