43
Brooke
No matter how many times Carrie frowns in my direction, the grin on my face won’t disappear at having Michael with me. He makes me happy and I’ve really missed him this morning.
My sister is up to something but I haven’t figured out what. I have a sneaky suspicion it has something to do with Sinclair, but neither of them are giving anything away. It’s annoying but I’ve decided to leave them to it. I’m happy with Michael. I’m hoping, when he isn’t working, I’ll be able to spend all my time with him.
Even after working all morning and the meeting with my father, Michael still has a lot of energy, which thankfully is directed toward me.
The tender stroke along my thigh, or against my arm is arousing, so I’m glad that he tossed my cover up over my head before we moved to the restaurant for lunch. The food is amazing and the calamari is fresh from the ocean today. That’s one of the things I love about being on the Island—the freshness of seafood and how it’s prepared. But sitting by the ocean to actually eat with the man who has quickly jumped into my heart makes it all the more enjoyable.
“You okay?” Michael whispers into my ear. “You’re quiet.”
“I’m thinking.” I smile. “About you.”
“Hmm, I like the sound of that.”
“You are not the only two present at this table,” Carrie hisses. “What’s wrong with having some manners?”
Michael’s face tightens with anger. He holds my gaze, slowly inhaling and exhaling as though my scent is grounding him before he faces my sister. Carrie visibly shrinks and her bravado seems to have disappeared. Beside her, Sinclair looks as though he wishes he were anywhere but here. I wish Michael and I were as well.
“What is your problem Carrie? I haven’t done anything to you.”
“That’s the problem,” Sinclair mumbles under his breath but we both hear him.
Michael narrows his eyes on the man before turning back to my jealous sister. That’s what she is and I really don’t understand why. If it was over Michael, then I could understand that, but her behavior toward me started when I turned twenty-one. It was as though a switch had been turned on overnight. Nothing I have done or said since has agreed with her. It’s the main reason I stay away from family vacation time as my mother calls it. It’s actually no vacation for me. I have a feeling this is going to be the last and that makes me sad.
“What’s going on with you?” I ask her, unable to hide the hurt I’m feeling. “We used to get along, but now, everything,” I pause, “and I mean everything, has to be an argument or disagreement, or even a dig toward whom I’m with. I don’t know what happened, Carrie, but if you don’t stop with it then you’ll lose me.” Michael intertwines his fingers with mine for support, as I add, “Although, I think that’s already happened.”
Standing, I slip my fingers free of Michael’s and grab my dish of food and wine glass. I nod to a free table and Michael collects his own things and moves across with me.
“I’m really sorry.”
“Don’t, Brooke.” Michael captures my face between his hands and places a sweet kiss to my lips. “You have nothing to apologize for.” He kisses me again and we sit, finishing off our food and the rest of the white wine. My appetite isn’t as good as it had been a few minutes earlier, but I refuse to allow Carrie to ruin anything else for me.
“Do you still want to go in the water with me?” Michael asks, wiggling his brows.
It has the intended effect and I laugh feeling like a weight has lifted from my chest.
I grin, wave over to one of the waiters and tell him with my hands that I’ll pay later. They know that I always keep my promise so it works well when I want to spend time at the beach because it means that I don’t have to carry money with me.
“Hey,” Michael snags my hand, “what about paying?”
“I’ll call in and pay later. They trust me.”
“Thank you, but this is on me.”
Before I can say anything Michael disappears into the tavern and I smile at the handsome figure he makes. He’s tall and has a body made for pleasure—mine to be precise.
He’s back with a frown across his brows.
“What’s wrong?”
He curses under his breath. “Did you know that Carrie and Sinclair charged their meals to your account?”
I gasp and look around for them, but they’ve gone. “I’ll make sure to mention it at dinner tonight.” I grin. “When father asks about my day, I’ll mention it then.”
He chuckles. “Let’s go and get you nice and,” he leans closer, whispering, “wet.”