Wet: Part 2 (3 page)

“Give a guy a break. You’re the first girlfriend I’ve ever pretended to have, but you’re ending it before we even had a chance. Imagine the pretend scars you’re going to leave on me.” He tried to sound serious and dramatic. He didn’t sound like he was kidding.

“We could just pretend to have a long-distance relationship.”

He smiled his private joke smile.
Money argument avoided.

“I’ve heard long-distance relationships never work—”

“It’s just pretend.” She giggled.

“I’ve heard long-distance relationships never work—especially pretend ones. I’ll never be able to trust my heart to another pretend relationship again. Can your conscience live with that?” He looked at her with accusing eyes. “Huh?”

“I could probably pretend to manage,” she mumbled, but then seemed concerned about something. “You know we never carried out that plan.”

“What’s your point? The most meaningful, pretend relationships take time.”

“Have you been reading Cosmopolitan?” She smiled. “You sound pretty knowledgeable about this, Mr.
Never-Been-in-a-Relationship
, pretend or otherwise.”

“Oh,
please
. The Internet is
so
much more reliable.”

She rested her cheek against the palm of her hand, looking at him sideways, contemplating, considering . . .

Come on . . .
He held his breath.
Almost there . . . nope.
She shook her head, and he sighed, waiting for another objection.

“What about our plane tickets? What do we do about those?”

“Screw the plane tickets.” His eyes squeezed shut, realizing his mistake. She’d never be able to disregard that amount of money. “
Okaay!
I’ll get them refunded,” he lied, taking advantage of her lack of knowledge on the matter. “They’ll charge a small cancellation fee.”

“Okay,” she whispered, nodding.

“Really?” Paul smiled as broad as his face. “Awesome! What’re we doing here then? Let’s go home.” He didn’t understand her fleeting expression, but it vanished as fast as it emerged, leaving her to smile her beautiful smile. Her eyes sparkled as she gazed at him.

He’d won.

oOo

Paul strolled into the office and set a phone in Rhees’ hand.

“I have a new policy. All staff is now required to have a phone.”

“I’ve told you, I don’t want one.” She handed it back to him.

“I’ve told you, you need one.” He tried to refuse to accept it, but she would have let it drop to the floor. He had to catch it before it did.

“I had one before I came here and I almost never used it. I had to cancel my dad’s plan after he died, and when I tried to get my own, they said it wouldn’t work down here unless I paid a huge chunk of money for an international plan. I decided I’d deal with it when I went back.”

“And now,” he reasoned, “you’re staying for a while.”

“Yes, and I’ve been here a while
already
. I’ve been just fine without one.”

“You need a phone,” Paul said slowly, and in a monotone voice. “This phone has a local plan.”

“It’s a small island. I can walk anywhere in fifteen minutes. If I need to talk to someone, I can do it in person, just like I have so far.”

“There’ve been times I’ve needed to talk to you but couldn’t.”

“Only because I didn’t want to talk to you—on the phone or otherwise.”

She scowled. He deadpanned.

“No one’s ever needed to talk to me so desperately they couldn’t just come and find me—except you—Mr.
Impatient-Pants
. And now we’re always together anyway. It’s an unnecessary expense.” 

He’d expected her to say something like that. True, he never let her out of his sight, but when he thought of the few times he had—his frustration started to rise all over again. She had a habit of running away from him and he was tired of calling Regina every time he needed to track Rhees down.

“Office policy,” he mouthed. His stern expression deepened and he turned on his scary eyes to try to intimidate her into submission, but she didn’t back down. He didn’t really think she would.

“You don’t pay for Claire’s phone.”

“That’s because Claire is
smart
, and
reasonable
, and she understands the value of having one. So she pays for it herself, and so do Dobbs, Mitch, and Randy. Unfortunately, I can’t say the same for the
rest
of the staff.” He smirked—a little too pleased with himself, as Rhees was the only staff member left.

“But,
Paul
. . .” Rhees whined.

He put his hands on his hips. She would argue about it until he grew old and gray if he didn’t find a way to settle the matter once and for all.

“Did you hear Mr.
Meanie-Head
and Mr.
Grumpy-Pants
got married? They adopted a baby and named him
Pissed Offerson
. They’re all headed this way and if you don’t stop arguing about this, I’m sure they’ll have a thing or two to say about it.”

“You don’t fight fair.” The second she laughed, he knew he’d won.

“Of course not, I fight to win.”

“Okay, you
win
.” She took the phone, walked to her backpack and put it inside, making a show of burying it as deep inside as possible before she turned back to him and said, “I have a phone, now. You happy?”

She smiled sweetly and walked out of the office, without her backpack or her new phone.

Chapter 3

P
aul woke in Rhees’ bed. She hadn’t had a single nightmare all night, but she’d still snuggled up next to him. He snuggled back, nuzzled her hair, and inhaled before he realized his mistake. He wondered how much longer he’d be able to sleep next to her and still be a gentleman, and right then, he needed a good swim. He gently slid out from under her clinch. When he slipped free, he stretched.

Oh!
He tilted his head from one side to the other and listened to his neck pop.
What a horrible bed.

He quietly tiptoed to the bathroom, self-conscious about relieving himself—after he’d emptied his bladder. The bathroom had no door, and Rhees slept three feet away, in view of the toilet. She’d freak out if she woke while he was there, taking care of business.

Please. Don’t. Wake. Up.

He gave up and crept back into the room. He slipped on his jeans but he didn’t bother to button the fly, giving his morning glory a chance to fade. He unlocked the door, slinked out of the room, and made his way to the kitchen. He usually bought coffee at Miranda’s store, next door to the shop, but he had an agenda this morning. For the first time since he’d bought the shop, he hadn’t scheduled an early dive, so he wouldn’t have to be there at the crack of dawn.

He
had
still scheduled Regina to be at the shop earlier than normal—making sure to talk to her personally about actually showing up—as a personal favor—he knew he could count on her for just about anything. She agreed before he’d had a chance to mention whether she should bring Tracy or not, and he had to endure the disappointed look she gave him when he told her he needed them both. He’d made it up to her by flashing one of the smiles he’d learned worked on women, and all was forgiven. He felt guilty about using her crush for his own purposes.

He looked around the kitchen for what he needed.

oOo

Ten minutes later, Regina walked into the kitchen in her T-shirt and panties.

“Oh, no!” She jumped, shocked to find her glorious Paul in her apartment.

“Good morning.” Paul took a sip of his coffee.

Regina gulped air when she remembered to breathe. Adonis couldn’t possibly have looked as beautiful sitting at her kitchen table, reading a magazine, her Popular Photography magazine.

“Morning,” she squeaked. She backed out of the kitchen, not taking her eyes off him until she slithered into her bedroom, slowly closed her door, and acted out having a silent fit. She ran to Tracy’s bed and shook her awake. “Paul’s here again, he’s here. Paul’s here!”

Tracy and Regina dressed in record time and stumbled into the kitchen, trying, but failing, to act nonchalant. Paul still sipped on his coffee, working hard to make his cup last, but it had cooled to almost freezing a while ago.

“Good morning ladies. If you’ll excuse me, I’d better get to the shop.” He rose from the table, rinsed his cup, and walked into Rhees’ bedroom. He left the door open and plopped himself onto her bed, waking her up by draping his body over her and running his tongue up her face from her jaw to her temple. Rhees squealed in protest—just the reaction he’d hoped for.

“You’re very cooperative this morning,” he grinned cheerfully.

“What?” She dried her cheek with the sheet.

“Nothing.” He chuckled and then he began tickling her while she squealed vehemently for him to stop. He continued until Tracy and Regina crept to the door to sneak a peek at what was happening. He pretended not to notice them there.

“I’m heading to the shop now.” He spoke loud enough to ensure the roommates heard, but then spoke quietly to Rhees. “Stay in bed. Get some rest. Come with Tracy and Regina, so you don’t have to walk alone, okay?”

“I can come now. I only need a minute.”

“No!” He made sure his voice projected the desired sternness. “Stay in bed.” He got up and pulled his shirt on, slipped into his flip flops and finally buttoned his jeans. He walked to the door and paused, looking back at Rhees with a mischievous grin on his face.

His voice louder this time, he said, “Don’t think just because you’re sleeping with the boss, it means you can be late!”

He pulled her bedroom door closed, knowing Tracy and Regina had raced back into their bedroom, trying to avoid getting caught eavesdropping. They peeked out of their room as he hung the padlock in the hook, locking Rhees in her room.

“She’s going to want to kill me. Don’t let her out until I’ve had a good head start, okay?” He gave them a wink, letting them in on his prank, but then he hesitated as if asking them a very personal favor. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone I spent the night—you understand, right?”

With that, he ran out the door and down the stairs. Tracy and Regina squealed at the thought of Paul spending the night at their apartment again, and not on the couch this time. Being in on his game with Rhees was just icing on the cake. 

“Paul! Open this door!” Rhees pounded from inside her room, not knowing he’d already left. “Paul!”

The two friends looked at each other with wide eyes and burst into Rhees’ room. “What’s going on? Are you and Paul really . . .?” They squealed so excitedly, it almost scared Rhees.

“Tell us everything! Everyone’s been wondering, but we didn’t know for sure.” Tracy prepared herself to hear the greatest gossip ever.

“I cannot believe I did not know. I am sure I looked like a complete idiot with my mouth all hanging open, staring at his gentles, while the most—”

“His gen-i-tals?” Tracy corrected, biting back a laugh. “You mean his crotch?”

“Yes. Staring at the most beautiful genitals, I mean crotch, I mean—” Regina slapped her forehead at how frustrated he’d left her. “—I could do nothing but gawk as the most beautiful man in the world sat, drinking his coffee in
my
kitchen. You should have told us he was here, that you two were—” Regina suddenly stopped and thought about it. Her excitement evaporated as she realized. She’d never have a chance.

Rhees stood, dumbfounded. She just now understood what Paul was up to and it amazed and annoyed her he hadn’t given her warning . . . or instructions.

“Paul and I have spent every night together since you found him on the couch . . . you know, the night you were both getting picture-perfect proof.” The words already out of her mouth, she realized they wouldn’t take what she said as innocently as it really was. She groaned at being sabotaged. “I’m going to kill him.”

“No way!” Regina shrieked. “He has been right next door—from where I sleep—and I did not know? How did I not know this thing?”

“You guys always come home so late and sleep late. Paul and I go to bed early and get up early.” The truth worked for Rhees.

“So, it’s official? He got you!” Tracy swooned. Regina looked shocked.

“Got me?” Rhees’ mouth dropped open. She didn’t like the sound of it. “Geeminy, that sounds so . . .
flattering
.”

“Is it not true?” Regina looked smug, letting her jealously show a little.

Rhees blushed. No, not true, but she knew they believed it. She resisted the urge to set them straight.

“I guess.”

“He’s been here the last few nights,” Tracy said thoughtfully. “Will he be here again tonight?”

Rhees wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say. Paul shouldn’t have left her on her own. She shrugged and went with coy.

“I dunno. You’ll have to ask him.” Rhees shrugged again, proud of herself for putting the ball back in Paul’s court. “I need to get dressed. You heard him. He said not to be late.”

Their mouths dropped with envy when she took Paul’s T-shirt off, the one she’d slept in. She stuffed it into her duffle bag, and ran into the bathroom to throw on her swimming suit and pull on some shorts. She decided she wouldn’t bother with a T-shirt today. Her roommates stood in her doorway, gaping at her as she slipped into her sandals.

“You guys coming to the shop, or not?”

oOo

Paul saw Rhees from out of the office window. He could tell by the look on her face, she was coming for him. He smiled, and with playful anticipation, ran out of the office to the far edge of the dock, Rhees on his heels. He laughed readily, making everyone turn to look—just what he wanted. With excited, sparkling eyes, he held his hands up and turned sideways to her in mock defense, laughing.

She tried to push him into the water, but he’d expected it, and she didn’t manage to even budge him. He grabbed her around the waist and picked her up, and when she tried to wrestle him off, he turned that into a playful bout of grappling until they both laughed and wound up holding each other, smiling.

He’d changed into his trunks, shirtless, and the body contact with her deck attire felt suddenly intimate. Without thinking, he kissed her, but she snapped back with a gasp. He winced, wishing he could take it back, and didn’t know how to save it, with her or all the spectators.

“You locked me in my room!” She forced the shocked look off her face and feigned a childish pout. “I’m not a child. You cannot lock me in my room.”

Fully aware how everyone’s eyes feasted, watching the show, he smiled gratefully at her quick thinking. He let her down, breaking contact with her warm body in hopes of getting his brain back. She pulled him to the far side of the deck so they could speak privately. 

“You planted a bunch of questions in Tracy and Regina’s minds, and then left me on my own to answer them.” She gave him a bug-eyed look. “Are you crazy?”

He smiled again. She’d figured out how he’d ambushed her into putting their plan into action.

“What?” His expression turned playfully indignant. “Did you expect me to stick around and talk to them about the birds and the bees?”

“And you thought
I
was the better candidate to give that talk?” She arched a brow, folded her arms, and waited for him to consider what she meant.

He suddenly felt worried about something. “You do know where babies come from, right? You said you never had sex education in school—I just realized you might not—”

“Yes, Paul.” She seemed offended. “My mom explained it all to me.”

“My mom’s a doctor—you’d be amazed how ignorant people can be.” His shoulders relaxed with relief, but then his mischievous grin slowly returned. He leaned in closer and used a deeper voice than usual. “I bet she didn’t demonstrate. I know I promised, but I think people learn better when there’s a demonstration—it’d be purely educational. The stories I’ve heard about misconceptions—”

His mom had told stories of the ridiculous things she and her colleagues needed to explain to their patients over the years. He was telling the truth—but it also made for a good tease. He’d never known anyone as sexually uptight as Rhees.

“—So I know how important it is to know this stuff. I could live with a broken promise if it was for the sake of your education.”

“You know, there is one part of it I’ve been confused about. A demonstration
would
be helpful.” The look on her face expressed pure bewilderment. The look on his suddenly became much too hopeful. “Doesn’t it hurt—” She paused and looked directly into his eyes.

She was serious and he grew nervous. All humor dropped from his face—he’d never been with a virgin and didn’t know the answer for sure. He’d heard it hurt, but how much, for how long? What could he say?

“I mean,” she continued, “when the stork drops the baby down the chimney—how does the baby not get hurt?” A slow smile grew on her face and she was giggling by the time she finished. “Do you think the soot works like padding? Or maybe it’s like Santa.
He
doesn’t get hurt dropping down the chimney either.”

Paul rubbed his chin and watched her laugh at his expense, full of admiration for this woman. She never ceased to amaze—or confuse—the hell out of him.

She rolled her eyes. “Next time you come up with a plan to get this pretend romance rolling, could you please give me a heads up?” He’d lowered his defenses and Rhees gave him another push, managing to knock him off the deck. He gave her a touché wink before plunging into the water.

Her hands flew to her mouth, shocked it’d worked. She stood frozen as satisfied surprise turned to horror . . . Paul swam toward the ladder faster than she thought humanly possible, sporting a,
you’re going to be so sorry,
look. She screamed and ran toward the office, wondering why everyone just stood around, too stunned at the unusual familiarity between them to move out of her way.

She screamed again and shuddered giddily when she made it into the office and grabbed Claire, positioning her like a shield. Paul had unbelievably made it out of the water in record time and dogged her heels until she flew through the office door. He reached in after her, barely missed grabbing her arm, but he stopped short of following her inside. He didn’t want to risk the water dripping from his sizeable frame, flying all over the office, damaging the computers or the paperwork.

She covered her mouth with her hands again and watched him, concerned about what he might do next.

“You’re safe . . . for
now
.” He exaggerated his wink. “But I plan to take it out on you,
later.
” He bit his bottom lip and grinned salaciously before turning back toward the deck. Everyone stood watching, faces curious. “No one has anything better to do than stand around? We have a boat to load.”

Claire turned to Rhees, aghast. “Are you—did you—are you and Paul?”

The humor of the situation evaporated immediately. Leading everyone on, in general, didn’t seem so hard, but this was Claire. Rhees couldn’t bring herself to lie. She shook her head, shamefacedly.

“Thank God! I knew you were smarter than that, but you had me worried for a second.”