I nod. It’s tradition for all of us to head to my family’s lake house every year, and this one’s no different. We’ve got a whole weekend of drinking, swimming, and bonfires ahead of us.
“Tell your grandma thanks again for letting us stay at her place. I’m dying for some time away,” Maren says, giving me an appreciative look.
I nod and look away. If the other toys were too much to handle, watching her hold an anatomically correct, flesh-colored dildo in her hands is where I draw the line. It’s impossible to stop myself from imagining pumping the toy into her, watching her squirm as—
“Hayes, do you have the numbers from last quarter? Some of this shit just won’t reconcile,” Wolfie grumbles, furrowing his brow at the computer.
Numbers. Spreadsheets. These are what I should be focusing on.
I clear my throat, thinking that maybe putting some distance between Maren and me will help. “Yeah, let me run to the back and grab my laptop.”
I walk quickly to the back of the storefront where we have a small supply closet, a few rows of back stock, and another few hundred square feet of office space. When I reach my desk, the door to the back swings open again, and footsteps approach.
“Look, Wolfie, I know I’ve got the numbers here somewhere, all right? Just give me a minute.”
But the voice that answers isn’t Wolfie’s. It’s Maren’s.
“I was, uh, hoping we could talk about the auction?” She stands awkwardly on the other side of my desk, the dildo still in her hand. When she catches me staring at it, she holds it up with a small, mischievous smile. “I’m not trying to steal it or anything. I just wanted to catch a moment alone with you.”
Why do our conversations always start out like the beginning of a porno?
I take a seat and gesture for her to sit down. Instead of sitting in one of the chairs next to my desk, though, she rests her ass on the edge of it, much closer than I was expecting.
She sets the dildo down in front of me. “I was wondering if maybe you could put together a basket for the auction,” she says, her eyes lowered to her hands.
“Sure, I can find a suitable vendor and work out a contract. It’ll be easy.”
“No, I meant you. As in the company. I’d ask Wolfie, but even the thought is too mortifying.”
“You want to sell a basket of adult toys . . . to old people?” I try to keep my tone as measured as possible. I want to help her—more than I probably should—but this is one thing I’m not so sure about.
“I know it sounds crazy, but we’ll be inviting people from all over, from all walks of life. Plus, old people are more sexually active than you’d think.”
“Okay, not a mental image I ever wanted in my head.”
We laugh, and she places her hand over mine.
“Everyone likes orgasms,” she says softly, making my heart rate rachet even higher.
My mouth has gone dry, and I’ve forgotten how to form a response that isn’t just a helpless noise of agreement. Good times.
But Maren is as polished as ever. Crossing one ankle over the other and tipping her chin, she says, “Just think about it, okay? I don’t need an answer right now.”
I nod, trying to ignore the extra blood flow to my crotch.
“Oh, and Hayes?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you again. For everything. I really don’t know how I’m going to make it all up to you.” She glances from the dildo to my lap, then up to my face. “But I’m excited for the lake house this weekend.”
She turns and walks away. With no one else around to see me, I watch her ass as she leaves, and I swear she knows it.
Honestly, I don’t really know what just happened. But I do know I want to find out.
8
* * *
MAREN
The morning sun shines through the windshield of Wolfie’s car, casting warmth across my freckled shoulders. Wind whips through the open windows as my brother speeds down the highway, the radio forecast promising beautiful weather for the weekend ahead.
Trailing behind us is Caleb in his Jeep, with Scarlett in the front seat, and Connor and his little sister Penelope squashed together in the back. If I sit up straight, I can see Scarlett in the rearview mirror, jamming to whatever playlist she’s forcing the rest of the car to endure.
For a moment, I regret opting to ride with my brother. I love him, but Wolfie isn’t the easiest guy to talk to, especially if you’re sitting in a car with him for almost three hours. Lucky for me, I wasn’t the only one who opted for a quieter road trip.
Am I lucky, though? Truthfully, I can’t decide how I feel about being crammed in this small space with Hayes riding shotgun.
I was reluctant to leave Chicago in the first place, what with all my obligations surrounding the fundraiser. But now, with the promise of actual downtime and sunbathing, I’m grateful that Wolfie and Scarlett insisted I come along.
Trying to chase away any fleeting worries, I close my eyes. Maybe I can sleep for the rest of the car ride, and then when I wake up, I’ll already be in Saugatuck. There’s no such thing as work in Saugatuck—not with the beach calling my name.
With my eyes closed, my sense of smell is heightened. It’s not just the sweet aroma of fresh air that’s stirring excitement in me. It’s Hayes and his clean, masculine scent that always makes me dizzy with desire.
Giving in to my curiosity, I open my eyes and sneak a glance at him.
Hayes stares out the windshield, his sharp eyes focused on the road ahead of us. In the sunlight, they look like liquid gold. Somehow he’s already perfected his summer tan, evident by his sculpted forearm resting against the armrest. I find myself staring at his long fingers, tapping to the beat of the song on the radio against the leather of the car seat.
When he glances in the rearview mirror and catches me staring, I struggle to spit out an excuse.
“Do . . . do you like this song?”
I pinch my leg, hard. Where’s the button that will eject my seat straight into the stratosphere?
“Never heard it before,” Hayes mutters with an apathetic shrug, grumpier than one ought to be on his way to his family’s lake house. Crappy mood or not, he’s still gorgeous.
I hum along to the music, grateful this conversation ended before I could embarrass myself any further. I catch Wolfie’s eyes, watching me from the rearview mirror. I offer him a nonchalant smile and immediately avert my gaze.
Yes, this blurry scenery whizzing past is very, very interesting.
No, I’m not concerned that my big brother is on to me, suspecting the crush I have on his best friend and business partner.
Hayes seems to be completely oblivious to my interest in him, thank God. And I seriously doubt Wolfie has any suspicions. As sharp as his insight may be into all things business-related, he’s pretty blind to anything involving emotions. Unlike me, who’s constantly consumed with them.
I’m so lost in thought that I don’t realize we’ve arrived at our destination until the car comes to a stop. I sit up straight, eager to get out of the car and stretch my legs.
I’ve been to Hayes’s family lake house before, but it’s even more beautiful than I remember. The dark, rustic exterior is surrounded on three sides by strikingly tall shade trees. The porch wraps around the house, providing plenty of space for the whole group to hang out and enjoy a cocktail, or for some introverted quality time alone on the porch swing.