ROMANCE: Mason (Bad Boy Alpha Male Stepbrother Romance Boxset) (New Adult Contemporary Stepbrother Romance Collection) (147 page)

Sooner than Hannah would have liked, as she had been enjoying the gentle breeze, they arrived. They stopped by the parking lot a few hundred feet from the pier and piled out of the car, stretching tired limbs and grinning at each other with the type of giddiness that came from arriving at your destination after a long car ride.

“Well we’re here,” Hannah said in a sing-song voice as she skipped over to Andrew who had changed into a pair of board shorts and a loose, short-sleeved white button-up.

“Indeed we are,” Andrew said, returning the brief kiss Hannah placed on his lips before walking around to the trunk of the car and pulling out Hannah’s beach tote full of beers and a blanket. “Let’s get something to eat first if we’re going to make a night of it out here. They close early on Sundays, right?”

“Yeah I think you’re right.” Hannah grinned, entwining her fingers with his as they walked over to the restaurant in question: ‘Krafty’s’.

As per usual, the place was filled with local college students, tourists, and a few of the retirees that decided to venture out amid the afternoon crowd. Instead of waiting the twenty or so minutes that it would take them to get a table, they accepted the waitress’ invitation to be seated at the bar and hopped up onto two of the empty barstools in the middle.

“So what can I get such a lovely lady and nice gentlemen to start with today?”

Andrew sized-up the bartender in front of him, noting the cutoff jeans, the lean muscles that came with surfing, the freckled skin and the bleached hair and decided that, if he got a little too flirtatious with Hannah, he could certainly take him in a fight.

As if sensing his line of thought, Hannah placed a soothing arm on his own, her wedding ring glinting in the light slightly, which did not go unnoticed by the bartender, as she ordered for the pair of them. “I’ll have a Sex on the Beach and he’ll have a mojito. And when we look close to finishing replace them with a Pink Lady Cosmo and a Whiskey Sour please.”

“You got it,” the bartender said, winking at her so quickly she almost missed it before turning around to mix their drinks.

“It looks like someone’s got an admirer,” Andrew whispered, teasing Hannah good-naturedly while still keeping a careful watch on the bartender.

Hannah snorted, thanking the bartender as he handed her the Sex on the Beach before turning to make Andrew’s drink. She took a sip of it, smacking her lips lightly and humming at the fruity taste. She took another drink, her eyes looking over the rim of her glass at something behind Andrew before she set her drink down. “Well, it appears that you have quite a few admirers of your own mister Navy SEAL.”

The bartender placed Andrew’s drink in front of him, to which he grunted a thanks before he took a sip and casually turned around to see just what Hannah had been talking about.

Down the bar sat two girls, either college age or just having graduated looking at him flirtatiously. She could see why Hannah frowned. The two girls easily commanded the attention of the majority of the guys in the bar with their cutoff, tiny shorts and low-cut bikini tops that showed off their ample cleavage, and they had a wide array of drinks sitting in front of them that had been sent over by hopeful guys desiring to get lucky.

They teasingly twirled their straws, stretching perfectly red-painted lips around the straws in imitation of some sort of lascivious act that had most men sitting with gaping mouths.

They would glance over at Andrew every ten seconds or so before looking away, giggling and whispering to each other. Their eyes were almost predatory, fixed on Andrew when they thought he wasn’t looking and completely ignoring Hannah’s existence.

“Who, them?” Andrew asked, taking another gulp of his drink, “They’re obviously looking at you because you’re the only thing worth seeing in this place.”

Hannah smiled softly at that, but still shot a withering glare over Andrew’s shoulders which the two girls seemed to be completely immune to. Andrew had to admit he was impressed, if he could have he would have asked the pair of them for tips given that the smallest of glares from Hannah could make him cower and give her anything she wanted.

A few more minutes went by before the bartender returned, sliding another mojito over to Andrew.

“Oh, no, his next drink was meant to be a Whiskey Sour,” Hannah corrected, moving to slide the drink back when the bartender corrected her in turn.

“Oh, I know, I’m making that next; this drink is courtesy of the two girls down from you.”

Hannah blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

The bartender’s smile wavered just a bit but he cleared his throat and continued. “The two girls down there at the end of the bar,” he said, pointing as if further clarification would help, “they sent you a drink sir.”

“Um, thank you,” Andrew said, nodding once and setting the drink off to the side a little. “But, um, can I have that Whiskey Sour now, followed by a glass of Scotch?”

“Just Scotch?”

“Yeah, in fact,” he glanced at Hannah once, “make it a double.”

“Right away sir.” He scurried off to make the drinks and wait on the other patrons, happy to be away from the growing tension mounting between the couple before him.

“So you’re not going to send it back?” Hannah demanded as soon as the bartender was out of earshot, eyes narrowing as he took a sip of the new mojito.

“No, it’s a free drink, why fight it?”

“Well drinking it will send them the wrong message, like you welcome it.”

“Babe, you’re being dramatic, that’s not it at all. They can clearly see that I’m with someone.”

“Really? Well if they can so clearly see that then why did they send you a drink? Either they have no manners, or they don’t care. Actually, it’s likely both, the uncouth tarts.”

Andrew snorted, taking another swig of his drink much to Hannah’s annoyance. “Uncouth tarts? What is this, the fifties? Babe, I really think that you’re making a mountain out of a molehill here.”

“No, I’m not. I’m talking about two gorgeous women flirting with my husband like I don’t exist and he’s encouraging it.”

“I’m hardly encouraging it.”

“Yeah? Then why is the one with the boob job coming over here?”

Andrew looked up, and, sure enough, one of the two women was walking over to them.

“Hi,” she said, in a voice that Andrew was sure she meant to be sultry but only served the purpose of putting him off. She situated herself so that her hip was resting up against the counter, her torso leaning in just slightly so that in terms of cleavage, she left nothing to the imagination with the view he was getting down her top.

The way she stood, she was standing just between Andrew and Hannah, encroaching on Andrew’s personal space and giving Hannah an overwhelming whiff of her flowery shampoo as her hair came very close to her face.

“Hi,” Andrew said, voice clearly uncomfortable as he shifted back in the barstool as much as feasibly possible, attempting to regain some semblance of a comfort zone.

“My name’s Amanda, how about you handsome?”

“Handsome?” Andrew repeated, blanking.

“Handsome, strong, debonair, stunning, take your pick. You’ve caught the attention of nearly every girl in this place; handsome is one of the few PG-rated terms being used to describe you in all of their minds.”

“You’re just being kind,” Andrew brushed off.

“No, just being honest,” she smirked, “I see you’re working on that drink, do you like it?”

“Er, yes, thank you, a Navy SEAL never turns down a free drink.”

Her eyes widened and she leaned in just a bit further. “A Navy SEAL, wow. My friend and I had military on our list of possible things you did, along with bodyguard, actor and fitness instructor, but Navy SEAL, that’s really something.”

“Oh, it’s just a way to serve; I just got back from a tour so we’re celebrating.”

“We?” Amanda asked, appearing surprised.

“Yes, me and my-”

He looked around her to gesture at Hannah only to see that her seat had been abandoned and she was no longer anywhere in sight.

“Excuse me?” he said, ignoring the woman in front of him and getting the attention of the bartender, “Did you see where my wife just went?”

“Wife?” came the surprised voice of Amanda, “I thought that frumpy woman was your sister or something.”

“She seemed angry man,” the bartender said unhelpfully, “she left, I think she was headed towards the pier.”

“Excuse me, frumpy?” Andrew demanded, nodding at the bartender to signal that he had received the information as his head swiveled to face Amanda, leveling a glare at her that could have made the most macho of men urinate themselves.

She swallowed. “Don’t be offended, it’s just, you two are clearly in such different leagues.”

He nodded. “You’re right, she is so clearly out of mine. She’s a perfect ten, more gorgeous than Helena of Troy, whose face launched a thousand ships. And she was right; I clearly gave you the wrong impression by accepting your drink. So, let me be perfectly clear right now. I love my wife, more than anything else on this green Earth. She is beautiful, smart and the best thing that has ever happened to me. I’ve loved every minute of our marriage together, whether we’re happy or fighting, and I have no desire to ever look elsewhere. And frankly, when you meet a woman as amazing as her, that perfect ten that comes once in a lifetime, it’s impossible to even look at anyone else. So that is my fault, for not realizing you were flirting. But, for the record, I am not interested.”

Amanda blinked, face scrunching in an unattractive frown as she looked clearly affronted, obviously having never been turned down a day in her life before.

“Excuse me?”

“I think I was very clear; now, I’ll reimburse you for the drink if you want, but I think you get my point.”

Her mouth opened and closed in a very close but unintentional imitation of a fish. After another second of quiet balking at him, she made a bit of a strangled noise from the back of her throat before she flushed in anger and stormed over to her waiting friend who was clearly confused from Amanda’s reaction.

Andrew groaned, shaking his head in amazement as he fished around in his back pocket for a minute before coming up with his wallet, taking out a few twenties and tossing them onto the bar. He then gathered up the tote and towel that he and Hannah had brought with them and headed outside in the direction of the pier.

He sighed as he saw a lone figure sitting on the edge of it, feet dangling in the water as she looked down into it, her posture clearly signaling a state of anger and sadness as her fists clenched on the edge of the pier and her shoulders shook with either thinly-concealed rage or sobs.

Cautiously, like an acrobat walking the tightrope for the first time without a net, Andrew approached the hunched form of his wife.

“Hannah?”

Andrew saw her head tilt almost imperceptibly as she heard his words, but she resolutely faced forward, eyes trained on the bright sky before her as she focused on the sounds of splashing waves lapping at the pier beneath her instead of his footsteps coming closer.

“Hannah, come on, talk to me.”

“Why don’t you go and talk to Amanda,” Hannah said snidely, acid entwined with her tone.

“I told Amanda to hit the road,” Andrew said, taking off his shoes and kicking them a little off to the side before walking over and sitting down next to Hannah, plopping his feet down into the water beside hers. “I’m actually surprised that she didn’t throw her drink in my face or anything, she seems like the type of girl that would.”

Hannah was mad, and Andrew could tell. Ordinarily a small joke like that would have had her lips reluctantly twitching up in a little hint of a smile but her lips remained determinedly pursed and her face expressionless.

“Babe, please, just look at me.”

Hannah remained motionless for the most part, her hands clenching slightly in her lap.

“Okay, well, I’ve really stepped in it this time, obviously, but I don’t see what I’ve done.”

That got a reaction from Hannah; she swiveled around, feet hitting his in the water and water splashing up to his knees as she moved her whole body towards him. She leveled him with a glare so fiery that he regretted coming out with less alcohol in his system.

“You don’t know what you’ve done, really?” Hannah demanded, eyes narrowing. “God Andrew, it’s like just after we get out of a fight you’re intent on throwing us into another.”

“Me?” Andrew asked, incredulous, “You make it sound like all of this is my fault. The first fight was predominantly a miscommunication because you had refused to tell me what that crazy lecturer had told you. And I understand why you did, but it’s completely unfair to pin that on me. And this one isn’t my fault, not all of it.” He swallowed. “At least ten percent, at the very least, is not mine,” he amended as her eyes narrowed.

“Really, now?” Hannah said, her words so biting yet so unspecific that Andrew didn’t know what to say.

“Are you saying it’s all my fault?”

Hannah’s eyes narrowed even further, to the point where Andrew was unsure if she could even see him at this point. “It very easily could have been her fault, a case of ignoring common decency by flirting with someone’s husband while their spouse was right there, but no, you had to encourage her. Which brought it up from ignoring common decency to encouraging rudeness and a lack of consideration.”