Up to the Challenge

No answer came. Sid met Will’s eyes and the woman shrugged. “He’s got a point.”

“What do you mean he’s got a point?” Sid slapped a hand on the table, sending tiny pieces of napkin flying in the air. “I’m just as casual as the next chick.”

“You’re cleaning that up,” Will said, unaffected by Sid’s outburst. “I’ve been on this island nearly a year and never even seen you go out on a date. When was the last time you had a boyfriend?”

Sid didn’t like this line of questioning. “A while. What’s that have to do with anything?”

“How many boyfriends have you had?” The woman would not let up.

Behind her hand, Sid mumbled, “Two.” Will held her hand behind her ear as if to say speak up and Sid clarified. “Two, okay? And the last one was five years ago. So I’m not good at the dating thing. That makes this the perfect situation. I don’t want to date Lucas, I want to fuck his brains out for a few weeks.”

Will shook her head. “You do have a way with words. But you’ve wanted this guy for more than a decade. You think a few weeks will be enough?”

Damn it. This had been Will’s idea. “You’re the one who said I should rock his world and get him out of my system.”

“True,” she admitted. “That might have been bad advice.”

“I’m telling you, I can do casual. I’m not ready to settle down. I like my space. My independence. I’ve got plans, and they do not include having a man underfoot all the time.”

Will gathered the scattered paper. “You’re sure? If this turns into something, you won’t have any problem watching him drive away?”

Sid pictured the scene. The silver BMW fading up Highway 12. Her chest tightened.

“I can handle it.”

Will didn’t look convinced, but she caved. “Okay then. How can I help?”

Sid had never worn a shirt this tight in her life. And she did not want to know why Will kept a change of clothes and all basic necessities packed in her VW van. The bartender came by her moniker honestly, being as willowy as the tree that bore her name. And she was a B cup at best, which meant her shirt stretched across Sid’s double Ds was like wearing a neon sign over her head.

Look, everyone, I have giant knockers flashing in bright letters.

At least the plain tee was olive green instead of orange or pink. Will might wear an arm full of bangles but she liked to pair them with army boots, which sounded strange but somehow worked on the lanky brunette.

The shorts were another matter all together. Will had cut the things so short, the white material of the pockets stuck out below the tattered denim. Sid wore bathing suits that didn’t show this much of her ass.

According to Will, the best way to barrel through a man’s morals was to make him too horny to hitch a ride on the high road. Which made it sound a lot like Sid was taking the low road, but if that low road led to sex with Lucas, she’d follow it to the end.

With part A of the plan in place, that being the new wardrobe, the time had come to initiate part B, which sounded way harder than a change of clothes. Pretend nothing had happened.

With a deep breath and a final tug on the T-shirt, Sid waltzed through the doors of Dempsey’s Bar & Grill attempting to look cool and unaffected. No kiss on the beach. No scaling Lucas like a drowning woman desperate for higher ground. And definitely no argument about who was or was not going to have sex.

The mission—to drive Lucas crazy with indifference.

“Sweet Cheez-Its, Mary, and Charlie, what are you wearing?” Georgette stared at Sid, wide eyed. “Did your dryer shrink all your clothes or something?”

Sid’s confidence waned. Maybe this was too much. But there was no going back now.

She held her head high. “I’m behind on laundry.” Right. That didn’t sound pathetic at all.

“Sure you are,” Georgette said. “Is this getup for Manny’s benefit? He was over at the house watching baseball with Milo last night and must have asked about you three times.”

Shit. Sid forgot about Manny. Another transplant from Florida, Manuel Sullivan worked at Anchor Adventures, Randy’s watersports business, along with Georgette’s husband, Milo. In contrast to the olive skin and dark hair of his Cuban mother, Manny possessed the bright blue eyes and endless charm of his Irish father.

Every young and not-so-young female on the island sighed as he walked past, and Sid could appreciate the pretty face, but the kid did nothing for her otherwise. Technically, he wasn’t a kid, being only three years younger than Sid’s twenty-eight, but Manny looked barely old enough to shave, which gave him the appearance of a naughty schoolboy most of the time.

Every Wednesday, Manny picked up lunch for the Adventure crew, and spent each brief visit trying to catch Sid’s attention. Will hadn’t mentioned making Lucas jealous, but when she thought about it, going into battle required being flexible. Adaptable. Maybe Manny could work in her favor.

Before Sid could correct Georgette on her assumption, Lucas appeared from the kitchen buttoning the cuff on his tailored shirt, which emphasized his broad shoulders perfectly. He glanced in her direction as he rounded the end of the bar. A second later, he walked into an empty bar stool.

“Damn it,” he barked, righting the stool before he and it hit the floor.

“Something wrong there, skipper?” Sid asked. The immediate sign part A of the plan was working bolstered her confidence.

“No.” Lucas slid the stool against the bar. “That’s … You …” He made befuddled look sexy and Sid’s blood began to hum. Like the purr of a powerful engine.

“I what?” Sid asked, hands on her hips, flashing what she hoped was an innocent face.

Lucas shook his head slowly. “Nothing.”

Sid smiled. A half smile, half grimace was Lucas’s response. As he moved about, righting already straight chairs around the tables, his eyes returned to her over and over.

“Oh, I see,” Georgette said. Sid jumped, having forgotten the other waitress was there.

“You see what?”

“I don’t blame you, girlfriend.” The woman hugged her serving tray to her chest. “If I didn’t have Milo …” She gave Lucas an appreciative once-over. Sid managed not to punch her in the throat, but just barely.

“But you do have Milo, so back off.”

Georgette didn’t look worried. “Don’t get your panties in a bunch. There isn’t a woman on this island who could compete with that body of yours. Just be careful.” She pointed toward Lucas. “A girl could lose more than her inhibitions with a man like him. I understand the temptation to play with his kind of fire, but don’t let yourself get too close. That singe can leave a permanent mark.”

While Sid tried to decipher Georgette’s cryptic message, the restaurant doors swung open. Tom Dempsey stopped just inside the entrance.

Looking Sid up and down, he said, “Patty, I’m going to need one of those heart pills.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Lucas saw his mom and dad enter the restaurant, then noticed his dad’s face when he caught sight of Sid. Nothing like testing the old ticker right out of the gate. She was definitely testing Lucas’s. Based on his body’s reaction to the new getup, all systems were up and running.

“Hey there, Dad. How are you feeling?” He knew they’d be home today, but didn’t know they’d make a stop at the restaurant. Tom moved with slow deliberation, his left arm held tight against his side. His pale face carried a pinched expression.

“I feel like shit,” Tom said, clearly shooting for honesty. Lucas couldn’t blame him, considering what he’d been through.

“He insisted we stop here on the way to the house,” Patty said, leading Tom to the bar and guiding him onto a stool. “The doctor said no stress and limited physical exertion for at least the rest of the week.” Turning to Sid, she said, “More outfits like that and we’ll have to install a defibrillator.”

Sid crossed her arms as if trying to hide, but that only made matters worse. “I didn’t—”