pheromones blowing around on the salty breeze.
He didn't want any of that shit. In fact, as he surveyed the tables, for as many couples who were holding hands and giving each other goofy looks across the table, twice as many had folded arms and clenched jaws, their body language indicating tension and unhappiness, only to be quickly hidden by too bright smiles when someone approached their table.
Drew had seen enough to know the fun, moony times didn't last, and he didn't have the time or patience to try to decipher the mysteries of a woman's mind to find out what would make her happy.
He was only interested in one thing, especially here. Especially now.
His gaze drifted over to the main building where Wendy was staying, locking on the shuttered window he was pretty sure was hers. Was she still sleeping? He'd kept her up late, he thought with a little smile.
Late enough that he'd fallen into such a deep, exhausted sleep he hadn't even heard her leave. His smile faded.
He sipped his coffee, his mouth pulling tight as he thought of her, alone up there in her room when she could have stayed, could have woken up next to him....
He hadn't even realized he was walking toward the building until the sound of someone calling his name startled him out of his haze. What was he going to do, storm up to her room and demand entry?
She wanted to be alone, Drew would leave her alone. He'd been happy to play the pursuer the night before, but he wasn't going to spend the rest of the weekend chasing Wendy down.
He raised his hand and went to join the man who'd summoned him. Jeff Tracer had been a year ahead of Drew and Chris at Berkeley and was now the president of a successful medical device company. Jeff and his wife Amelia lived in Northern California. He'd only met Amelia a few times, but he often ran into Jeff at work-related events.
"Good to see you Drew," Amelia said, and Drew leaned down to give her a buss on the cheek.
"Didn't have a chance to catch up last night at the party," Jeff said as Drew sat down.
"I feel like it's been ages since we saw you," Amelia said. "Not since Alan's wedding," she added. "God that was a beautiful ceremony—"
"Yeah, but I still feel bad for his fiancée," Jeff broke in. "What was her name? We went to the engagement party—"
"Wendy," Drew replied in a clipped voice. "Wendy Carmichael."
Like something out of a movie, she appeared. If she heard Drew say her name, she gave no indication as she strode across the pool deck. Though half of her face was hidden by her oversize sunglasses and oversize straw sun hat, there was no mistaking the long, pale legs left bare by the filmy cover up she wore. The fabric was some kind of translucent, gauzy stuff, hinting at bare skin at her stomach and chest.
In a heartbeat, Drew's body sprang to full attention, his gaze locked on her like a laser beam.
"That's her, isn't it?" Amelia, said, thankfully clueless to the fact that Drew was tenting out the front of his shorts under the table.
All Drew could manage was a strangled grunt of confirmation.
"I didn't realize she knew Chris," Jeff said idly, but Drew didn't miss the flare of appreciation in his eyes as he tracked Wendy's progress to the steps that led to the beach.
"She's Julie's best friend," Drew said in a sharp, clipped voice, resisting the urge to smack the faint leer of Jeff's face. He clenched his fist under the table. What the hell was wrong with him?
You're a jealous bastard, just like you were the first time she showed up on Alan's arm. He tried to shove the feeling away. Sure, he'd resented the bastard, but now that he'd finally had Weny in his bed, that should be out of his system.
Right?
Instead, he was finding, to his frustration, that having finally had a taste he found himself even more reluctant to have a man even look at her, even a happily married guy like Jeff.
"Ha, small world," Amelia said, not noticing or not caring that her husband was staring at another woman's near
He didn't want any of that shit. In fact, as he surveyed the tables, for as many couples who were holding hands and giving each other goofy looks across the table, twice as many had folded arms and clenched jaws, their body language indicating tension and unhappiness, only to be quickly hidden by too bright smiles when someone approached their table.
Drew had seen enough to know the fun, moony times didn't last, and he didn't have the time or patience to try to decipher the mysteries of a woman's mind to find out what would make her happy.
He was only interested in one thing, especially here. Especially now.
His gaze drifted over to the main building where Wendy was staying, locking on the shuttered window he was pretty sure was hers. Was she still sleeping? He'd kept her up late, he thought with a little smile.
Late enough that he'd fallen into such a deep, exhausted sleep he hadn't even heard her leave. His smile faded.
He sipped his coffee, his mouth pulling tight as he thought of her, alone up there in her room when she could have stayed, could have woken up next to him....
He hadn't even realized he was walking toward the building until the sound of someone calling his name startled him out of his haze. What was he going to do, storm up to her room and demand entry?
She wanted to be alone, Drew would leave her alone. He'd been happy to play the pursuer the night before, but he wasn't going to spend the rest of the weekend chasing Wendy down.
He raised his hand and went to join the man who'd summoned him. Jeff Tracer had been a year ahead of Drew and Chris at Berkeley and was now the president of a successful medical device company. Jeff and his wife Amelia lived in Northern California. He'd only met Amelia a few times, but he often ran into Jeff at work-related events.
"Good to see you Drew," Amelia said, and Drew leaned down to give her a buss on the cheek.
"Didn't have a chance to catch up last night at the party," Jeff said as Drew sat down.
"I feel like it's been ages since we saw you," Amelia said. "Not since Alan's wedding," she added. "God that was a beautiful ceremony—"
"Yeah, but I still feel bad for his fiancée," Jeff broke in. "What was her name? We went to the engagement party—"
"Wendy," Drew replied in a clipped voice. "Wendy Carmichael."
Like something out of a movie, she appeared. If she heard Drew say her name, she gave no indication as she strode across the pool deck. Though half of her face was hidden by her oversize sunglasses and oversize straw sun hat, there was no mistaking the long, pale legs left bare by the filmy cover up she wore. The fabric was some kind of translucent, gauzy stuff, hinting at bare skin at her stomach and chest.
In a heartbeat, Drew's body sprang to full attention, his gaze locked on her like a laser beam.
"That's her, isn't it?" Amelia, said, thankfully clueless to the fact that Drew was tenting out the front of his shorts under the table.
All Drew could manage was a strangled grunt of confirmation.
"I didn't realize she knew Chris," Jeff said idly, but Drew didn't miss the flare of appreciation in his eyes as he tracked Wendy's progress to the steps that led to the beach.
"She's Julie's best friend," Drew said in a sharp, clipped voice, resisting the urge to smack the faint leer of Jeff's face. He clenched his fist under the table. What the hell was wrong with him?
You're a jealous bastard, just like you were the first time she showed up on Alan's arm. He tried to shove the feeling away. Sure, he'd resented the bastard, but now that he'd finally had Weny in his bed, that should be out of his system.
Right?
Instead, he was finding, to his frustration, that having finally had a taste he found himself even more reluctant to have a man even look at her, even a happily married guy like Jeff.
"Ha, small world," Amelia said, not noticing or not caring that her husband was staring at another woman's near
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