Bad Boy Saint (Bad Boy 1) - Page 28

Celia returned to the beach bar and spent some time talking to Greg. I felt jealousy coil inside me when I watched him lean in close to her. Graham was a fool if he thought leaving Celia in his care was the smart move.

About fifteen minutes later, Celia appeared by my side. She smiled when our eyes met.

"Can I come and sit with you?"

"Of course," I said and gestured to the chair beside me.

She put her drink down and proceeded to squeeze water out of her long dark hair. Man, she was a feast for sore eyes. I had several regular fuckbuddies with whom I had an agreement—sex and no strings—but I had to admit I wanted Celia. This week was the start of her new life away from home and I wished I could have been the one to break her in.

Celia took the beach chair beside mine, her voluptuous body on full display. And so, while Graham was off surfing, and Greg was scowling at me from the bar, Celia told me all about her week getting ready to start classes, moving into the dorm and getting her books and class schedule set up.

For my part, I listened with half an ear, planning to watch over Celia to keep Greg and every other hound dog away from her. He was the real threat, not me. If Graham was going to go off surfing, I’d spend my time fending off my former frat brothers hoping to get her drunk and take advantage of her.

I knew the drill. I’d seen it far too many times. Hell, I did it a few times myself.

For the rest of the afternoon, we talked in serious voices about our futures.

"So, it's too bad that you and Graham can't go into business together," she said.

Well, that confirmed it. A knot formed in my throat, and I had to cough to clear it.

"Yeah," I said, trying hard not to sound as disappointed as I felt. "It's a shame."

"Spencer's such a bastard."

"That he is," I replied and took a long drink of my beer. "Was it him that convinced Graham not to go into business with me?"

"Didn’t he tell you?" she said, her eyes wide. "I thought that was why you looked so down…"

"More or less."

"What will you do?"

I shrugged. "I have no idea. Depends on if I can find some other partners. That or I'll join the Marines."

"You don't really want to join up, do you? You have an MBA. It'll be wasted in the military."

I shook my head. "They need MBAs, too. I thought Graham and I would start Innova, but I guess I was wrong."

"I'm sorry, Hunter. That must be disappointing. I guess it's your family ties that make it hard." She smiled sadly at me, her expression sympathetic.

"It wasn't like my father wanted to get mixed up in the mafia," I said finally. "He had no real choice with a brother like my uncle. I still feel this loyalty to my dad. He's tried. Believe me, he's tried all these years but I wanted to start a business on my own. Or join the Marines. I have no idea what to do now."

Celia reached out and took my hand, squeezing it in sympathy. I was surprised at her show of affection and squeezed back, my heart warming at the thought that she understood. She really understood.

"Whatever you decide, I hope you're happy," Celia said. "I know Graham will miss you if you leave Boston. Where do Marines train?"

"Parris Island. If I join, I'll be in the Marines for at least four years. I hope to see some action if I do. Maybe special operations."

"Oh, no," she said and frowned. "That sounds dangerous. You mean the guys who go in and do rescues and take out targets? Like Delta Force?"

"First Special Forces Operational Detachment-Delta," I said, correcting her. "Something like that, but with the Marines."

She nodded and listened while I talked about future plans, which I was making up on the fly now that I knew Graham was pulling out on me.

Celia was a rapt audience, and seemed to understand how torn I felt.

“I must be boring you silly,” I said with a laugh.

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