With This Fling (Summersweet Island 5)

“He’s currently wearing his motorcycle boots.”

“Exactly. He’ll scream louder that way. Just say the word, Laura, and I’ll make him scream.”

“Can we perform an emergency C-section on her now and get this baby out of her?”

“Can we please all focus on the matter at hand and stop being distracted? All in favor of Mom riding the motorcycle man, say—”

“Shut the hell up,” I finally interrupt Wren, taking a second to share my glare with Birdie, Tess, and Karen, all of us standing at the bar of Dockside Eddy’s.

“I was actually going to have everyone say, ‘Ride, Laura, ride!’ to the tune of ‘Ride Sally Ride,’ but we can do it your way too.” Wren smiles at me.

Thankfully, Emily and Quinn had a charity event they needed to attend tonight for the Sharks, so I have one less woman standing here annoying me right now.

“You’re freaking out,” Karen states.

“I’m not freaking out,” I tell her, totally freaking out.

Birdie grabs a beer out of the bucket of ice in front of us and hands it to me. Tipping it back, I quickly drain half the bottle before smacking it down on the bar top, closing my eyes, and taking a couple of deep breaths.

Aside from one guest who is under the weather and hasn’t left her hotel room much, everyone has been having a great time on the island, participating in all the things Birdie planned, as well as wandering around and finding things to do on their own. Even so far tonight, everyone has been enjoying drinks, talking, laughing, eating appetizers, playing darts inside, or playing cornhole out in the sand right off the deck, waiting to order dinner and for the band Palmer’s agent surprised him and Birdie with to start playing.

There hasn’t been one complaint about anything. The wedding is only a few days away now, everything seems to be going off without a hitch, and according to the quick phone calls I made to the vendors before I came here, they are all on schedule and ready to help my daughter have the wedding of her dreams. I have absolutely nothing to be stressed out about. I should be laughing and having a grand old time just like everyone else, and yet I am a complete, freaking-out mess.

“I have to be honest,” Birdie says, turning around to face the room and leaning her back against the edge of the bar next to me. “I really thought after dealing with us today that Uncle Dean would have been on the first ferry out of here.”

Me too.

“But he just kept coming back for more.” Birdie laughs with a shake of her head. “And he definitely didn’t run anywhere but up here to Dockside Eddy’s as fast as he could to see you again.”

“He even went up to the store and got me and Tess an entire cart-load of junk food and a jumbo pack of Kleenex, and that was after she chased him out of the house with a blow torch,” Wren adds, pushing the knife in my chest even deeper.

“Now I know why my husband smokes weed. That was a high unlike anything I’ve ever known, and I can’t wait to feel it again.” Tess sighs, rubbing her hands over her huge belly as Wren continues.

“You know we were having a tough time because it took a pair of plyers to close the zippers on our bridesmaid dresses, so giving us items that will make our asses even bigger probably wasn’t wise, but it’s the thought that counts.”

“I can respect a man who opens the bathroom door just enough to throw everything in there at us, then yanks the door closed again before someone bites him. He’s a thinker, that one.” Tess nods, tapping her forefinger against her temple. “It’s probably rude to plot his death now.”

I watch out the corner of my eye as Birdie smiles and lifts her hand in a wave, and I just know she’s waving to Dean. Which is why I keep facing the bar and drink more of my beer. Dean was already here when I arrived a half hour ago, sitting out on the deck at a table with the boys. I felt his eyes on me before I saw him, and I’ve felt them on me ever since, thanks to the open wall of Dockside Eddy’s where the deck begins, giving him a clear view all the way in here.

I’m not avoiding him, technically. I’ve just been in here chatting with locals and wedding guests, and he’s been out there. I spent the entire day with him off and on, whether he was stopping by the stand or texting me, but something feels different now. I feel different now. And it’s because of the day I had with him.

After my initial arguing, I gave in and let him handle things. And handle things he did. He handled the chaos so well that for the first time when I got home from work, my head didn’t feel like it was going to explode. Whenever I tell people I’m exhausted, they always like to tell me I need a nap. I don’t need a damn nap. I need a break from having to remember everyone’s shit. And Dean gave that to me. And now I just want every day to be like today, where I have someone in my corner to help me when I’m too stubborn to ask for it. Someone to argue with, someone to laugh with, someone who understands how important my family is to me and that I will never, ever refuse them no matter what they ask. Who will just ask “what do you need?” instead of listing all the reasons why I should say no.

But every day won’t be like today, because he’ll be gone after the wedding, and I need to remember that. This is just temporary. His help today, and even the day before with Owen’s party, is not something I should be getting used to. He’s not something I should be getting used to either, but it feels like it’s already too late for that. I don’t understand how just a handful of days ago, the only thing on my mind was the fear of getting older and being sad about my baby getting married. Now, the only thing on my mind is a man who will soon disappear from my life as quickly as he came.

“Can I buy you a drink, beautiful?”

I swallow back the groan that wants to come out when Palmer’s agent slides up next to the bar in between me and Birdie. Glancing over his shoulder to give my daughter a “please, God, help me” look, I see Birdie is busy chatting with Wren. I can hear Tess and Karen deep in conversation behind me, so I have no other choice but to interact with him.

“It’s an open bar tonight, Tanner,” I remind him with a tight smile, making sure to keep the sigh out of my voice.

“Well then, how about you buy me a drink, pretty lady.” He moves in closer, nudging me with his elbow, laughing at his own joke. While I try not to vomit at the “pretty lady” thing.

It’s no Sugar in that deep, gravelly voice that makes my toes curl; that’s for sure.

This is probably the fifth time in total since Tanner got to this island that he’s tried flirting with me. He’s Palmer’s newer agent since he fired his father, and Tanner’s made him a lot of money in a short amount of time. Along with Birdie’s expert marketing and PR, he’s also gotten Palmer’s pro golfing career back on track.

My son-in-law is doing better than ever, gaining more popularity with each tournament he continues to dominate. I don’t want to mess anything up for him, but I don’t know how much more of this I can take. Initially, the flirting was nice. Like, the very first time he attempted it the night of the welcome dinner. It’s always a good feeling to know you’ve still got it and that younger men find you attractive. But now?