Claiming Holly (Holiday Cove 1)

“What did I tell ya, Boomer?” He nudged me and jerked his chin over at a trio of stunners at the end of the bar. They were dressed to kill and were well aware of the attention on them as they stood, waiting for their drinks to be handed over. “I swear, it doesn’t matter what night of the week, it’s always like this.”

I laughed, but there was no denying the place was packed with beautiful people. While Aaron sauntered over to the bar to order us a couple of beers, I hung back a step and scanned the room. It appeared to be an even split between male and female. Everyone was young and looked like they were all on the same mission as Aaron and I were apparently on.

The place was fairly small, but the back patio was well lit and wrapped around the majority of the bar, providing a ton of additional beachside seating. I turned back, about to ask Aaron if he wanted me to grab a seat outside when my eyes snagged on a cascade of long, blonde hair. The woman was on the other side of the room, her back toward me, but my heart jumped into my throat, waiting for her to turn so I could catch a glimpse of her profile and confirm if it was Holly.

Aaron bumped my arm and I started. “Here,” he said, handing over a frosty bottle. “What—or rather, who—are you looking at?” He followed my gaze to the blonde. “Is that her?”

Before I could answer, she turned enough that I could see it wasn’t Holly. The girl was still striking, but I lost interest. “Nope. I thought maybe she was.”

“Damn, Boomer. You’re really hung up on this mystery girl.” Aaron laughed and took a pull from his own bottle. “We’ll find you someone else.”

He led the way through the restaurant and breezed out through the open doors that led to the back patio. The tables were mostly occupied, but we found one in the corner that was free. “This is better anyway,” Aaron said, sliding into one of the wooden chairs. “This way, we can see everyone as they arrive. You’ll have first pick and I’ll be your wingman. Just like old times.”

He grinned at me and I chuckled, shaking my head at my old friend. “What makes you think I need one? I might not have been out here chasing skirt for the last six months, but that doesn’t mean I don’t get out, you know.”

“All right, then indulge me, Boomer. When was your last hookup?” Aaron’s eyes were alight with amusement as he casually continued drinking his beer.

I sipped my own drink, buying myself a moment to think back. “Uh, let’s see, I guess it’s been about six weeks. This brunette spinner type that works at my gym. She’d been chasing me down for a while, I asked her out for a drink and ended up takin’ her back to my place that night.”

“Nice,” Aaron replied, grinning all the more. “However, in my humble opinion—”

“Humble? Player, you haven’t been humble a day in your life,” I interjected, matching his wide grin.

He chuckled. “Fine, in my opinion, six weeks is way too fuckin’ long. That’s a whole lotta cold showers, my man.”

I rolled my eyes. “Excuse me that I’ve been busy. I have this little thing called a WestPac to prepare for. Keeps me busy.”

Aaron leaned in. “All the more reason why you should be setting aside time to get laid, on the regular. If you know a drought is coming, you save up some water!”

I glanced around the patio and found the trio of girls we’d seen at the bar had made their way to a nearby table and were each taking turns peeking over at Aaron and me. Aaron noticed too and kicked my shin under the table. “Which one do you want?”

There were two brunettes and a blonde. I had a weakness for blondes, and Player knew it. However, of the three, the brunette in the middle was more my type. She was tall, leggy, and had a knockout smile. “Brunette in the blue dress,” I replied.

“All right! Well you go work your magic solo since you don’t need me, and I’ll bag the leftovers.”

I fought back the urge to roll my eyes at his grand display of ego. I rose from my chair and went across the room to the girls’ table. “Can I get you ladies another round? I’m headed inside,” I asked, leaning over their table, not taking my eyes off the girl in the middle. It was obvious I was only talking to her, even though my offer was open to all three.

The two friends giggled. “Tessa here was talking about getting some spritzers,” one of them replied.

Tessa—my brunette in the blue dress—smiled up at me, a delicate dimple forming on her cheek. “That’s right.”