Chapter 6
He opened the huge oak door to his house and ushered me inside. I stood at the entrance for a moment, not wanting to track sand all over, but he just kicked his sandals off near the wall and walked right in. I followed suit.
I knew that Jack had been staying here when he met Emma, and that he had stopped sleeping here to stay in her cabana house by the beach. I'm sure if Emma had known what he was giving up to be with her, she would have insisted on living here instead.
Owen took me on the grand tour, showing me the kitchen, the living room, the dining room, and the backyard where he hosted parties. A beautiful gazebo stood in one corner, and I thought about how much I'd like to have a gazebo like that in my backyard someday.
An open door revealed some stairs leading downward. "What's down there?" I asked.
He shrugged. "Nothing really. Just where I hang out when it's just me and close friends."
I waited. "Well, can I see it?"
He looked at me quizzically. "You want to see my Man Cave?"
I laughed. "Of course I want to see your Man Cave."
I walked down the wooden stairs. The light from the basement stairwell only reached slightly into the room, so I had to squint in order to see. Owen switched a switch and the room lit up.
A tattered, comfortable looking, leather couch sat in front of a big screen TV. One of every video game system made since the Super Nintendo was hooked up, with controllers and games neatly filed in drawers on either side of the entertainment center. An old pinball machine whirred to life in the corner. Neon signs flickered on over a wooden bar with every kind of liquor I could think of.
"What do you think?" he asked.
"It's... a Man Cave, alright," I said.
He walked behind the bar, immediately picking up a washcloth and a glass. "What can I get you, young lady?" he inquired.
"Were you a bartender in a past life?" I quipped, taking a seat on one of the stools. "I'll take a Malibu on the rocks."
"A good vacation choice," he said. "I play bartender every chance I get. Someday, when I retire, I'm going to open up a bar."
"Bars are too much trouble," I said. "You have to get a liquor license, jump through all sorts of hoops, and then you have to make the place chic."
"Too true. Would you like a splash of pineapple juice?" he asked, pouring a drink for himself as well.
"That sounds delicious." He set the drink down in front of me and I took a sip. "When I retire, I want to open a bed and breakfast. Just a few rooms, I'll cook up eggs and pancakes every morning, my husband can gossip with the guests..."
"So this is a group th
ing, huh? You're going to drag your future husband into this scheme of yours as well?" he asked, a teasing tone to his voice.
I shrugged and took another drink. "It's my fantasy, so yes, he's into the scheme."
"What other fantasies do you have?" he wondered, leaning in.
Danger! Danger, Kaylee! I thought. The comment was clearly sexual in nature, and if I spent all day talking about my fantasies, he'd have me right where he wanted me...
I tossed the rest of the drink back. "Pour me another, barkeep, and don't skimp on the pineapple juice," I said. Another drink was poured for me, quick as could be. I reached into my pocket and opened up my wallet, fishing out a dollar bill. I slid it across the table toward him. "Don't spend it all in one place."
He grabbed the pocket of his shirt and opened it toward me, leaning in. I picked the dollar back up and tucked it in the open space. As I stuffed the bill in, I felt his muscular chest again, but I didn't pull my hand away.
"What kind of fantasies can a man like you have, anyway? What can a billion of these not buy?" I asked, moving the dollar bill against his chest more.
His eyes flickered, a flash of sadness behind them for just a moment. "I'm still a human being, you know. One with wants and needs. Do you really want to know what I want the most?"
I leaned in closer. "Tell me."
He pulled away. Was it something I said? I thought. I didn't know what I had done to offend him, to make him pull back, but then he walked around the bar, and sat down at the stool next to me. His voice got even lower as he leaned in conspiratorially.