Chapter Thirteen
Cornhole. What did throwing a teeny tiny bag that felt like it weighed less than a penny at a wooden square with holes have to do with corn?
Whatever happened to the good ol’ days of horseshoes?
Tyke looked up at the crystal-blue sky through his shades and squinted against the bright sun. It was another scorcher today. Just in a T-shirt, camo shorts, and boots he was sweating. And it’s not like he was doing any physical activity. He was standing next to Reese, tossing the little bags underhand. The only threat he faced was twenty-degree burns from standing in the UV rays too long.
Currently his team was winning, which wasn’t a shock since Reese was a goddamn master at this kind of shit. He calculated wind speed, velocity of his beanbags, and distance he had to throw them. Did some math whiz stuff in his computer brain and hit the target dead on ever since.
Too bad for Kenna, she was paired with Estelle, who seemed more concerned with the fourth mimosa the waiter was late bringing her. Kenna was no better. She chucked the bags like they were Frisbees and her target was more than three hundred yards away, rather than just twenty feet.
All the better for him. He loved watching her. Each time her beanbag went sailing over the board, she scrunched up her face, shaded her eyes with her hand like the sun was to blame, and stomped her foot. Her cheeks reddened to the hue of ripe tomatoes.
It reminded him of another time when her face was colored…
Like when her fingers worked her to ecstasy last night. Eyes squeezed shut. Calling out his name.
What a sight. He was still hard thinking about it.
And what she’d said in their hotel room. It was the last thing he ever would’ve expected, imagined, or dreamed about. Sex without any strings. Was there anything better? He’d been afraid she’d get attached. That she’d want more from him after this week. But she said that wasn’t the case. He was going to rock her fucking world in bed, get that ring back, apologize, and then glide off into the sunset with a clear conscience.
Simple.
Reese threw his last bag, landing it in the center of the hole.
“And that’s what we call an ass whooping, ladies.” Tyke clucked his tongue as he walked across the field to retrieve his thrown bags. “Three games to none. That’s gotta be tough for you to swallow.”
“Not really,” Kenna said, walking in his direction. Passing, she lowered her voice. “I’ve swallowed a lot more.”
Tyke froze with one boot in front of the other. He jerked his attention to her. Say what?
She leaned in, and her voice dropped to a sultry whisper. “Double or nothing?”
He never turned down a challenge. “You saw what happened here, right? How bad we kicked your asses?” He caught her devilish expression. “What are you up to?”
“I saw,” she said. “But this time there’ll be more at stake.”
“Like what?” He liked the way her lips turned up, and her eyes grew heavy.
Tyke never turned down that kind of challenge. He leaned closer. “Baby, you know once you set those terms, I’m gonna win. Every single time.”
“Sounds like I’ve got my work cut out for me then.”
His hands itched to reach out and touch her. Pull her to him. Let her feel what she was doing to him.
“So what do you say?” she asked, eyes glittering. “I’m about done with this game. Wanna head back to our room for some other games?”
He was about to throw her over his shoulder when a voice rang out.
“Hey, Big Bear!”
Tyke gritted his teeth. Fucking Calder.
Kenna pulled back, glancing away as she toyed with her silky red ponytail.
“Hey, Kenna,” Luke said, catching his breath. “How’s it going? Enjoying yourself so far?”
“I am,” she said. “Thanks so much. It’s been a nice week.”
“Really?” Luke said with a doubtful smirk. “Nice? You mean to tell me you two aren’t killing each other?”
“What do you want, Calder?” Tyke asked, trying to strangle the guy with his stare.
“Just stopped by to check on you,” he said. “It hasn’t gone unnoticed that both of you have been missing from a lot of events.” He turned to Tyke with his bottom lip jutted out. Tyke almost punched him in it. “You, Big Bear, missed our guy’s off-shore fishing trip. Nothing but miles of open water, fresh air, and bigeye tuna.”
“You got seasick, didn’t you?”
“All goddamn day,” Calder said.
Kenna chuckled. “Poor thing.”
“Thank you,” Luke said. “See—” He turned to Bryan. “At least she cares.”
Tyke grumbled.
“Since you missed the boat trip yesterday, and there just happens to be a catamaran race this afternoon, I came over to tell you that you two are the final entry.” He glanced at his expensive watch, then started to walk away. “Starts in fifteen minutes. Don’t be late!”
“Calder!” Tyke called after him.
He looked at Kenna, who could’ve had stars in her eyes for as brightly as they shined. “You wanna go, don’t you?”
She nodded like a little kid on Christmas morning.
Damn it. That quick, her naughty promise of higher stakes dashed out the window.
“Fine. Let’s go sailing.”
…
There were ten boats. Everyone was paired off two to a vessel. Naturally the lovebirds were a team: Ash and Sam, Luke and Cass, even Reese and the blonde he’d been attached to all week. Other teams included some of Cass’s and Sam’s coworkers; Tyke’s boss, Joseph Landry, and his wife; as well as Estelle and Sam’s grandma, Rose.
In other words, Tyke was going to use the brute strength he had over everyone else and take them all down. With Kenna’s equally competitive spirit, it shouldn’t be too difficult. Especially since he was still so damn ramped up from her offer and her innuendos during cornhole. His testosterone was in full force, and he was going to take advantage of it. He wanted to show her his raw power. Wanted her to see him doing something manly and physical. Something to prelude tonight’s festivities.
Watch me work, woman. He might even flex a few times just for the hell of it.
“Are you sure you know how to sail this thing?” Kenna settled on the ten-foot-by-ten-foot contraption with a fifteen-foot sail sticking up between them. “This looks really complicated.”
Her lack of confidence in him was a shot right to his ego. And when that happened, there was nothing for him to do but to work even harder to prove her wrong.
“How hard could it be?” He’d been on other boats. Nothing without a motor, but the concept was the same. Just keep it in the wind and hold on tight.
The resort staff offered a crash course on how to handle the catamarans, but Tyke declined. First, he was hungry and wanted to get his strength up by eating something before the race. But also, he didn’t need a lesson. Lessons were for sissies. He was a man, and therefore this stuff was instinctual.
“Get ready,” he said, pulling his shirt off and tossing it to the side. He gave her a sly grin. “I’m gonna remind you how good I am with my hands.”
Her gaze turned hungry as she took in his chest and abs on display. With a lick of her pink lips, the temperature of his blood blasted to a thousand degrees.
Why had he agreed to this race instead of dragging her back to the hotel?
He pulled on the bar attached to the sail, making it turn left and right. There was probably a more proper name for the bar, but he didn’t have a clue what it was.
Right. He could do this. No problem.
Looking up into the cloudless sky, he did what he thought Reese would do. Calculate the wind speed and direction. He licked his finger and stuck it into the air.
Nothing. He didn’t feel any wind at all.
“What are you doing?” Kenna asked.
He quickly lowered his finger. “Nothing.”
“You have no clue what you’re doing, do you?” She said it with a small smile like she already knew the answer.
Before he could soothe her worries, a short man with ebony skin wearing an all-white resort uniform shouted. “Ladies and gentlemen, take your mark!”
It’s go time.
Tyke leaped off the catamaran and planted his bare feet into the sand, bracing his hands onto the edge, preparing to push it as hard and as fast as he could into the warm crystal-blue water.
“You ready for this?” Ash yelled from the boat to Tyke’s left. His arms mirrored Bryan’s, bracing for a quick, efficient launch. “You two assholes are going down!”
“Ha!” Luke laughed from the boat to Tyke’s right. “Have you ever been sailing before?”
“Have you?” Tyke said.
Luke puffed his chest out. “Of course I have. Haven’t you?”
Tyke opened his mouth, but Kenna spoke first from her perch on the tiny vessel.
“No. He hasn’t. And he refused lessons from the hotel staff, but he swears there should be nothing to it. So this should be interesting.”
Luke and Ash bent over laughing.
Tyke sent an annoyed look to Kenna.
She gave him a self-satisfied grin and a fake-innocent shrug back. “What?”
“Stop doubting me, woman. I can do this.”
“Okay,” she said in a singsong voice and looked in the direction they were headed. “Show me what you’ve got, big man.”
He almost howled and pounded his chest. He’d show her all right.
“Everyone ready?” the resort employee said. “On the count of three!”
“One…”
Tyke dug his feet into the sand for leverage.
“Two…”
He swayed his weight to the back of his feet, preparing to transfer it forward and gain momentum.
“Three!”
With all his strength, Tyke propelled the catamaran forward, running as hard as he could through the sand and splashing into the water. Once he was knee deep, he leaped onto the vessel and reached for the bar attached to the sail.
“Yeah!” Kenna screamed. “Let’s go!”
The wind swept her red ponytail back like a superhero cape. The sun kissed her bare skin, exposed from her form-fitting tank top, drawing attention to the spattering of freckles across her shoulders and arms. She looked like a sea goddess sent to tame him. Or a muse. Yeah, that was a thing, wasn’t it? She was his muse. Alluring. Tempting. And could fulfill his every fantasy.
They darted out into the ocean, speeding ahead of the other boats, and Tyke couldn’t help but revel in the rush of the moment.
“See,” he shouted over the gust of wind flying past them. “I told you I knew what I was doing!”
“This is amazing!” She looked at him with such unexpected approval that it filled his chest with warmth.
It was amazing. The exhilaration. The open water. Kenna smiling at him because of something great he’d done. It was a sensation he’d been searching for for more than a decade. And one he fully welcomed now. This woman made him feel alive. Whole. Goddamn, what he wouldn’t give to feel like this forever.
Drunk on the feeling and craving more, he pulled the bar thing that was attached to the sail toward him. The boat turned to the right and lost some speed.
Kenna spun with a worried expression. “What happened?”
“Not sure,” he said, turning the bar the opposite direction. That slowed them down even more. His high drained at a rapid pace and disappointment took hold.
Kenna frantically looked around, watching Ash’s and Luke’s boats gaining on them. “Do something! They’re going to win!”
Shit. Uh… Come on, you piece of shit miniature boat. He pushed and pulled on the bar, up and back, neither direction doing much to gain them any speed. In fact, they were starting to slow even more. Practically crawling.
Calder and Cassandra glided next to them, still moving at a steady pace.
“Hey, Ishmael.” Calder gave Tyke a salute as they rolled past. “Thar she blows, dickhead!”
Then Ash and Sam breezed past. Cooper was laughing. “Guess those lessons woulda been a good idea, huh?”
Sam had enough decency to at least look slightly sheepish. Sorry, she mouthed, then giggled.
The worst of the pack were Estelle and Rose. The two old broads coasted up to Tyke and Kenna, slowly, but moving nonetheless. And passed them because the catamaran Tyke and Kenna were in had stopped. Dead in the water.
“Better luck next time!” Rose called out.
“Like a woman, Tyke,” Estelle said as they crawled past. “Gotta know how to give it to her when she wants it and when to coax her into it when she doesn’t.” She shifted her gaze to her great-niece with a wink.
Kenna’s eyes narrowed in Tyke’s direction. “Really? How hard can it be, Bryan?”
A whistle blew in the distance, signaling the first boat crossing the finish line. Screams and cheers erupted as everyone celebrated.
“Señor?” a voice called from the shoreline. “Señor, you need help? I come swim to you—bring catamaran back?”
By this point, Calder and Cooper were now standing on the shoreline, hands on their knees, laughing their asses off.
“Come on back, Tyke!”
“You can do it! Just blow harder into the sail!”
An unladylike snarl erupted from the other side of the boat. “Forget this.” The plastic beneath him shifted as Kenna stood.
“What are you doing?” He threw a hand behind him so he didn’t topple overboard. “I’ll fix this. Just gimme a second. Kenna, wait!”
She rolled her eyes before diving into the clear, blue water and swimming toward the shore, taking with her any hope Tyke had of getting some before his recon with Reese later.
The man who’d offered the sailing lesson earlier was wading in the water with a vengeance, shouting like he was saving Tyke from drowning. “Un momento! I coming, Señor! I help you!”
He’d much rather sit out here and wallow in his stupidness, but thanks.
All while the entire wedding party stared at him from the shoreline.