Something Unexpected by Vi Keeland
CHAPTER 8
Nora
“WELL, WELL, WELL.”I slid my sunglasses to the edge of my nose to get a better look at the man approaching my beach chair. “Whadda you know? The suit owns a pair of shorts. I never would have guessed.”
Beck’s lip twitched. “I just bought them at the gift shop. The only shorts I own are for running.”
“What do you wear when you go to the beach?”
He raised a brow. “The beach?”
“Oh my gosh. When was the last time you were at a beach?”
Beck put his hands on his hips and looked out to the ocean. “Not sure. A long time ago.”
“You don’t know what you’re missing.”
This time Beck pushed his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose. His eyes dropped down to my body and slowly skimmed their way from my toes to my neck, lingering at my breasts for a while, before he pushed his glasses back up using one finger. “It might’ve been easier if I didn’t.”
I smiled. “Finish all your work?”
“The critical things.” He looked around. “Where’s my grandmother?”
I pointed down the beach. “She’s taking a calypso dance lesson.”
He nodded. “Sounds about right. Mind if I sit?”
“Are you going to take off that T-shirt?”
“It’s hot. I was planning on it. Is that a problem?”
“Nope.” I motioned to his torso. “Go ahead. Just do it before you sit so I get a good look. What’s fair is fair.”
Beck chuckled. But he also reached back to the collar of his T-shirt and yanked it over his head.
Oh my.Damn, he was pretty all over. Tanned skin, bulging biceps, washboard abs, a V that made my mouth water, and pecs I had the craziest urge to lick. He held his arms out. “Well?”
I downplayed my approval. “Not bad.”
He grinned and suddenly his pecs were dancing, the muscles bouncing at a rapid speed.
I covered my mouth. “Oh my God. You’re one of those guys.”
Beck laughed. “Actually, I wasn’t sure if I could pull it off anymore. I haven’t done that since I was sixteen. I taught myself in an attempt to get my buddy’s older sister to notice me.”
“Did it work?”
“She was twenty-three and dating a guy in med school. I was getting my how-to-attract-women advice from Ronnie on Jersey Shore. What do you think?”
I chuckled.
Beck sat down in Louise’s lounge chair next to me. His eyes dropped to my cleavage, and his face changed, so I knew he’d noticed my scar. When his eyes rose, I could see he was deliberating mentioning it, so I saved him the struggle.
“I had heart surgery a few years back.”
“Your ex mentioned something about that. When I told him about my grandmother and the reason for the trip, he said it made sense considering the health scare you’d had. Could I ask why you needed surgery?”
“Rhabdomyosarcoma.”
“The same thing your mother died of?”
I nodded.
“I’m sorry. Everything good now?”
I hated talking about cancer, especially while on a beautiful beach, so I gave Beck my standard answer whenever a stranger noticed my scar. “It’s perfect. I was one of the lucky ones.” I pointed to the activities shack not too far away. “I was thinking about going jet skiing. You up for it?”
Beck frowned. “No thanks.”
“Louise wasn’t into it either.”
“That’s not surprising, considering that’s how her daughter died.”
My eyes bulged. I ripped the sunglasses from my face and sat up. “What did you just say?”
“My mother died in a jet-skiing accident when I was eleven.”
I covered my heart with my hand. “Oh my God. I had no idea. This was the second time I asked Louise to go. Today I bock-bocked her, too—you know, flapping my arms like a chicken.”
“That’s very mature.”
“Well, how the heck was I supposed to know? She’d mentioned that her daughter died years ago in an accident, but I automatically thought car.”
Beck shook his head. “My parents were away on vacation for their fifteen-year wedding anniversary. My father was driving the jet ski, and they collided with a boat. He didn’t have a scratch on him, but my mother suffered a traumatic brain injury.”
“Jesus. So she died on vacation?”
“She actually lived three months after that. They flew her back to the US, but she never regained consciousness. I was only a kid, and it was a horrible few months.”
“I’m so sorry.”
Beck nodded. “Thank you. I didn’t mean to bring your head down. Just figured I’d let you know. That’s probably the one bucket-list-type thing my grandmother won’t be checking off.”
“Of course. Who could blame her?” I shook my head. “Can I ask you a nosy question?”
“What?”
“Did your father pass away after that? I know Louise raised you and your brother after your mom died. I assumed it was because your dad was killed, too. But you just said your father wasn’t injured.”
“He wasn’t. But he had a lot of guilt. Apparently he’d had a few drinks before they got on the jet ski that day. Not enough that he failed the breathalyzer when they tested him a few hours after the accident, but he was never able to move past it. He started drinking heavily, and my grandmother took my brother and me to her place for a few days. He disappeared after that for a while, and we never went back. Last I heard, he was on his fourth wife and still a drunk. He lives down in Florida, I think.”
“I’m sorry you went through that.”
“My grandmother gave us a good life.”
“I guess I can understand why you’re overprotective of Louise now. She’s been so many things to you.”
“Does that mean you’re going to stop these crazy trips?”
“No, because while what you just shared helps me understand your concerns, it doesn’t change the fact that what Louise is doing is not about you. It’s about her.”
“I don’t have to like it.”
“No, you certainly don’t. But you should show her enough respect to accept her decisions.”
Beck frowned. “How about we go back to checking out each other’s bodies? That’s a lot more fun than talking to you.”
I glared at him.
He glared back.
“You know what I think your problem is?” I asked.
“Nope. But I’m guessing you’re going to enlighten me.”
“You’re a control freak, and you hate that you don’t have control of what your grandmother is doing.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing. Control freaks make good leaders. They’re perfectionists, and hard workers.”
“They’re uncompromising and bad listeners.”
Beck cupped his hand to his ear. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”
“Ugh. Just shut up and look pretty, will you? That’s what you’re good for.”
“I’m good for a lot more than that. How about I show you?”
I felt like punching him. But at the same time, I had to fight my arousal. Why the hell did I feel such a stir from arguing with this guy? The more tense the moment, the more overwhelming the physical effect seemed to be.
And I wasn’t alone. Beck’s eyes dropped to my mouth, and he licked his lips. He looked like a hungry lion about to pounce. And I was a willing antelope. Luckily, my phone interrupted my ridiculous thoughts. I pulled it out of my bag and swiped to answer.
“Hey, Louise.”
“There’s a handsome Bahamian calypso dancer up here without a partner,” she said. “And they’re giving out free Bahama Mama drinks.”
My eyes lifted and met Beck’s. “A handsome dancer and free drinks? That sounds like just what I need. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
When I was done, I spent a minute doing some quick research on Google. All the while, Beck kept quiet and watched me.
“Ha!” I turned my cell to show him the screen. “It has nothing to do with you.”
Beck squinted and leaned closer to read. “The human brain releases testosterone, cortisol, and adrenaline when under stress, such as during a fight. To counteract those hormones, the human body craves the pleasure hormones sex can provide.”
His brows drew together. “What the hell did you Google?”
“Why am I getting horny arguing with an asshole.”
His lip twitched, yet again. It did that a lot when we spoke.
“You know what I have to say to that?” he asked.
“What?”
He lifted his hands and locked them behind his head, elbows out, making his pecs dance again. “I bet your handsome Bahamian calypso dancer can’t do this.”
I got up with a huff. “Enjoy your company for the rest of the afternoon.”
He smirked and leaned back, keeping his hands behind his head as he settled into the lounger. “Oh I will. I’ll be with my favorite person.”
