“No breakfast. Got it.”
* * *
HER COFFEE CUP wasn’t going to magically replenish itself. Piper snuck a peek at Cal. She was probably pushing her luck to ask him for a refill. Or anything else. She still didn’t know why he was sticking around or making offers of breakfast. Worse, part of her wanted to say yes and hop in his truck with him.
She’d had sex with him.
Super hot, fantastic, slightly kinky sex.
That, she could do. Brunch with Cal’s mother? Not so much. They were childhood acquaintances, sure, and if the Brennans were hosting a two-hundred-person barbecue, she (and the rest of the island) would expect an invite. An intimate weekend brunch, however, was so far out of her league he might as well have invited her to Mars. Saturday morning was for family and she wasn’t that.
She scooped a stone from the sand. So what if she wanted to go? They both watched her stone skip over the water. Once. Twice. And...sink. Yep. Pretty much like her heart.
“Not bad.” He leaned down and snagged a stone. “Watch and learn.”
The playful gleam in his eye had her thinking about going back to bed. Maybe they could both not go to brunch. No. Bad libido. She had to get this chemistry thing under control.
He launched the stone with a smooth flick of his wrist. The scruff on his jaw made him look impossibly sexy and more than a little rumpled. Apparently, he was not only a rock star in bed, but he was also king of skipping stones, because his stone sailed over the waves, ignoring her silent jinxes.
“One. Two. Three. Four.”
The stone sank beneath a wave. Darn it. He’d smoked her.
Which didn’t mean she had to give in easily. Or even graciously. “The last one didn’t count.”
He raised a brow. “You’re a sore loser.”
Probably, but this was Cal, and she wasn’t giving up yet. “Plus, mine went farther.”
“If you want to swim out there and compare rocks, go right ahead.”
“Pass.”
His phone buzzed and he pulled it out of his back pocket. “I’ve got to go.”
She’d known that since he woke up. Standing up, he brushed a kiss over her mouth.
Say something.
“I’ll see you on Monday?”
She made her words half question, half polite brush-off. Monday was good. They’d already settled their work schedule. What was still undecided, however, was how they were going to deal with the chemistry they had between them.
“You still owe me a night.”
“Oh.” Yes, please.
“You can bet I’m collecting,” he growled.
* * *
THE BRENNAN PLACE was a big, rambling home perched above the ocean. The house had a seemingly endless supply of bedrooms and hidey-holes, all of which had been a lifesaver growing up, as Cal’s parents had been fairly prolific. He had three younger sisters and two brothers. His mother was the center of their universe, and he was more than okay with that. He was fortunate to have always had her at his back. She’d understood when he’d enlisted and left the island, but she’d also made it clear he’d always have a home. His father’s unexpected death from a heart attack three years ago had been rough, but they’d weathered it together, because they were family, and family stuck.
He had, however, bought his own place just down the road, when he’d been home on leave, a fixer-upper, which he was slowly restoring on the weekends. He loved his family, but he didn’t need to be glued at the hip with them. Since he’d moved back to the island permanently only six months ago, the cottage was still a work in progress. Or, as his sisters called it, a disaster with potential. In the plus column, he had two bedrooms, one bathroom and a DayGlo-green kitchen, which opened up to a living room area with a panoramic view of the ocean. The minus column had been enough to lower the price to bargain territory, however. The roof leaked, the hot water was more temperamental than Tag without coffee, and Cal had pulled up the shag carpeting only to learn that the hardwood underneath must have been used by a small herd of dogs and boys to run the Indy 500 with cleats on. After a quick pit stop to change his clothes and run his eyes over the day’s to-do list, he walked up the road to the family place. Two of his younger sisters were there, home from college for the summer. His third sister was in Paris, practicing her French. Or, at least, he hoped she was practicing her French and not meeting sexy French men. Luke, his baby brother, was home on leave from the U.S. Army Rangers. It promised to be a loud, boisterous, fun brunch.
They liked Piper. They liked her family. No one would have questioned her presence, although they might have wondered how he and Piper had arrived together without killing each other. Their spats were family legend, as were the paybacks and practical jokes.