Midnight Heat (Firework Girls #2) (11 page)

BOOK: Midnight Heat (Firework Girls #2)
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Chapter 12

 

After a night’s rest, I’m freshly resolved to keep it together and enjoy the day. It’s what a strong, independent woman would do. Right?

Around eleven o’clock in the morning, the entire crew of relatives and friends who’ve come to enjoy the early celebrations for Shane and Isabella’s wedding are down at the docks. We’re all heading for the resort’s luxurious 400-foot yacht, which her parents have chartered for the entire day. We’ll be taking a leisurely tour down the coast and back, and cap off the evening with dinner on board.

I tell you what, those people who aren’t arriving for the wedding until Saturday are
missing out.
The
Golden Pearl
is a massive vessel, gleaming in the California sun. I’ve been told it has three decks, two pools, and enough liquor to fuel a frat party for a month.

I don’t know how much
partying
will be going on, what with all the elderly-type guests who’ll be aboard, but I could use a shot of
something,
that’s for damned sure. I’m walking along the dock, my day bag hitched over my shoulder, and Sam and Grayson are walking right in front of me. He’s carrying both their bags, but she has one arm hooked into the crook of his arm.

Look, I’ve seen Sam like this with
countless
guys. I’m no more concerned that she’s getting attached to him than I was two days ago.

It’s just that it’s, you know,
Grayson
. God.

But I’m determined to keep my emotions in check. I have to. I’m the one who made this decision after all. I need to suck it up and deal with it. Plus, I’ve been looking forward to the day’s activity. I mean, how often does a person like me get to spend the day on board a fucking
yacht?
So I keep telling myself not to pay attention to Sam and Grayson and instead focus on how fun it will be to get on board and check things out.

Grayson says something funny and Sam rewards him with one of her lighthearted laughs, the kind that makes everyone around her smile too.

I take a deep breath. I can do this.

There’s something like sixty of us making our way to the
Golden Pearl,
but Sam, Grayson, Ashley and I are near the rear. It’s too bad Bobby had to go back home last night. We tried to get him to call in sick to work this morning, but he wouldn’t do it. In some ways, he’s more responsible than I am. I totally would’ve done it.

As the front of the massive wedding party reaches the gangway and starts to board, I glance toward the parking lot, looking for Jack’s truck.

“Where is he?” I ask Sam.

He’s driving in from Rosebrook this morning to join us and she’s been in regular contact with him. (Of course, she’s pretty much always in regular contact with him.) Isabella and Shane are waiting in the parking lot so they can lead him to the ship once he gets here, but I can see they’re still over there waiting.

Sam pulls her phone out and sends him a text. “He should be here any—”

“There he is!” I say, seeing his truck pull into the parking lot at last. Oh hell, I should’ve just waited in the parking lot with Isabella. I haven’t seen Jack since I moved to Boise and the sight of his truck has me heading back to greet him.

Ashley, Sam, and Grayson trail after me, but as Jack pulls into a parking spot and climbs out, I pick up the pace. I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed my friend until I see his face. Shane and Isabella are greeting him. Jack’s wearing that big goofy grin I love so much, and clapping Shane on the back. He gives Isabella a perfectly tame hug—just like a regular person would do—but smiles at her warmly and she smiles back up at him.

Once Isabella and Shane got together, I noticed Jack kind of adjusted his shows of physical affection toward her, like he didn’t want to step on Shane’s turf or something. But the rest of us girls are under no such restrictions.

As I hurry toward them, Jack sees me and hollers out enthusiastically, “Chloe! Baby!”

I drop my bag and throw my arms around him as he picks me up into a great big Jack hug. “Hey Jack!” I hang on tighter as he spins me in circles. “Ahh!” By the time he sets me down I’m laughing and hanging on to him, slightly dizzy.

Ashley, Sam, and Grayson are just coming up to us. Grayson is watching the scene unfold with the kind of fascination most guys have when they first see Jack with his little harem.

“Gee, did you miss me?” I tease.

“Hell, yes,” he says, keeping his arm around my shoulder as he pulls Ashley into a half hug and kisses her on the cheek. Since she and Sam both live in Rosebrook, they get to see Jack all the time. “Why the fuck did you move to Boise?” he asks me.

Grayson’s eyebrows shoot up at this piece of information. I haven’t mentioned my move to him and Sam must not have said anything either. Why would she?

“I wanted to start my blog,” I answer evasively.

“It’s not like you couldn’t have started a blog when you were in Swan Pointe,” Jack says. He’s grinning, but I can hear the serious tone in his voice. Sam has mentioned he thinks I need to move back “home” where I belong.

I glance uncomfortably at Grayson again. “I know.”

Moving to Boise was complicated, and it wasn’t the job itself that lured me. Though I’m making a tiny bit more money, the company is massive, so I’m a member of one of their many ‘teams.’ I feel like one little cog in a long line of cogs. But still, I had reasons for accepting that job offer. Taking that kind of leap
did
give me the courage I needed to really work on my blog, but of course it was also a way to escape the Temptation of Grayson. I knew if I stayed in Swan Pointe, it would only be a matter of time before I showed up on his doorstep.

Sam comes up to give him a hug. Still keeping one arm around me (I’m not in much of a hurry to let go of my friend either), Jack hooks his other arm around Sam’s neck and puts his forehead to hers, holding her eyes with a mock, stern look.

“Hey Shorty,” he says, “you took the last of my Turtle brownies.”


My
Turtle brownies,” she says, lightly slapping him on the stomach. “I’m the one who made them.”

She ducks out from under Jack’s arm and returns to Grayson’s side, smiling. “Grayson, this is Jack. Jack, Grayson. He’s my date for the week.”

“Hey man, nice to meet you,” Jack says, shaking hands amicably.

“You, too,” Grayson says smiling, but he’s still trying to figure everything out. I can tell.

“Do you have a bag?” Isabella asks.

“Yeah, in the back.”

He kisses the top of my head and squeezes my shoulders before finally releasing me. I’m feeling more buoyant, now that Jack’s here. Maybe today won’t be so bad after all.

As Jack heads to the back of his truck, Sam leaves Grayson’s side and climbs into Jack’s cab. Her head disappears as she, apparently, starts looking in his glove box.

“What are you looking for?” Jack calls up to her.

“My CD.”

“It’s in the player,” he says easily, hefting his duffle bag onto his shoulder.

“I’m going to put it in your suitcase so you don’t forget,” she says, reappearing. “You can give it to me when we get back to the hotel.”

Grayson has a weird look on his face. I’ll admit, it kills me to think he might be jealous of Jack, but I don’t really want him to suffer needlessly. Because I’m a sucker like that.

I step next to him, trying to ignore what being this close to his body does to me, and say quietly, “Don’t worry, Jack’s not into Sam or anything.”

Grayson gives me a look I can’t quite read.

“He’s a friend,” I say. “That’s it.”

“What about... anyone else?” he asks, returning his attention to Sam, who’s scooting back out of Jack’s truck. “Is Jack into Ashley or... you?”

His question gives me pause. If I didn’t know better, I’d think Grayson was jealous about
me.

Is he?

No, I’m being stupid. I didn’t just close that door, I blew it into oblivion. And Grayson’s given every indication he’s not interested in opening it again. Plus there’s always the Not Insignificant Fact that he’s here with
Sam.

“No, Jack’s harmless,” I say. “He’s practically an honorary Firework Girl.”

Jack locks up his truck and we head toward the yacht. Sam is back with Grayson and I gratefully stick close to Jack, who has his arm draped over my shoulder again. “Which one is it?” he asks, scanning the ships moored at the docks.

I point to the
Golden Pearl
. “That big white one at the end.”


That
one? Damn, Isabella, you’ve been holding out on us. That’s the biggest one here!”

“This was all my mother’s doing,” Isabella says, throwing her hands in the air as if to say, “Don’t blame me.” We all know Isabella’s mother isn’t much prone to extravagances, except where her daughter is concerned. And when she found out her only child was getting married? Well, clearly she’s pulled out all the stops.

“You’re a good daughter to accommodate her,” Jack says, “and we’re such good friends to go along with it. I mean, not many people would be willing to put up with a whole day of
yachting
, but for
you
honey...”

Isabella laughs. “I’m actually kind of excited, too. Does that make me shallow?”

“Yep,” Sam says, “but you’re in good company. We’ll all be good and shallow with you. I just want to know if I’m supposed to wear heels with my bikini or something.”

“Your diamond-studded bikini,” I add.

“Ah darn,” she says, “I accidentally left it in the limo.”

“Actually,” Shane says, “I think Ashley’s going to be more excited than anyone.”

“Me?” Ashley says in surprise. “Why me?”

Shane and Isabella are walking arm in arm and smile at each other. “You’ll see,” Isabella says.

We make it to the docks and up the gangplank at last. As we board the
Golden Pearl,
we’re wrapped in the intoxicating spell of extravagant wealth. The rest of the group is on deck and has apparently been waiting for us so that the porters, in their smart little uniforms, can take everyone on a tour.

I don’t even bother trying not to gawk as we’re led through exquisite lounge rooms, a fully-equipped kitchen, and the huge dining hall with overflow onto a private dining deck. We peek into luxurious state rooms, admire the game room complete with three pool tables, and gawk at the theatre with plush bucket seats.

“Good god,” Sam says. “Who lives like this?”

“We do, baby,” Jack says, “for the next eight hours.”

“They’ll have to drag my ass off this boat kicking and screaming,” she says. “Do you think I could stow away in a closet or something?”

“You could stow away in a bottle, Shorty.”

“Shut up, Jack.”

The main level features the largest of the yacht’s two pools, situated on the huge deck at the bow. There’s a sizeable Jacuzzi as well. Inside is a massive lounge. Here we’re greeted with a large buffet of croissant sandwiches, paninis, fruit, antipasto platters, and desserts. Apparently we’ll be taking our plates to the deck so we can eat lunch while enjoying the view during departure. This would sort of be considered “casual dining” were it not for the fact that we’re aboard a freaking yacht.

While Jack eyes the desserts eagerly, we finally discover what Ashley has to be excited about. On the far side of the room is a full-sized, grand piano.

“Is that a Fazioli?” Ashley breathes, breaking from the group and rushing up to it. Gaping at it, she runs one hand over the sleek wood and checks out the imprint on the front. “This is a Fazioli!” Ashley says, looking back at us with her mouth hanging open.

“Enjoy,” Isabella says, smiling.

Ashley sinks onto the bench, her eyes drinking in the piano as if she’s died and gone to heaven.

“And that’s the last we’ll see of her,” I say, grinning.

“I guess that’s a pretty good piano, eh?” Sam says.

“Ranks right up there, from what I understand,” Shane answers.

Before Ashley can start playing, however, the captain arrives to introduce himself and welcome us. We’re assured the crew is there to make us comfortable and we’re not to hesitate if we need anything at all.

Jack has subtly shuffled himself closer to the food tables. He’s waiting for the first polite opportunity to strike, I know. Actually, the way he’s eyeing the mini tarts, I’m not sure he’ll make it that long.

At last, we’re released from the formality of the tour, the captain departs, Jack dives for a tart, and Ashley starts playing. As the first notes of her song fill the room, a temporary silence falls over the crowd. A few people wander over, drawn by her magic. Only Ashley could do justice to the grandeur of our surroundings. At the conclusion of the piece, she nods graciously to their astonished compliments and starts another song.

I smile. This place is truly heavenly. What’s not to love about it?

As I turn toward the food tables, Sam reminds me. I’m just in time to see her go up on tip toe and plant a firm kiss on Grayson. I look away and abruptly head for—no place in particular, it turns out—with the image of them kissing still burning into my eyes.

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