never seen you looking like this,” Rick said, raking a lascivious gaze over her. “I like it.”
“Moment of temporary insanity,” Haley mumbled and tugged at the hem. A bandanna had more material in it. How did Ahmaya wear these skimpy dresses without feeling overexposed?
“I like it.”
The bartender placed their drinks on the bar. Rick reached over, plucked a pink flamingo stir stick from the holder, dropped it into Haley’s drink and stirred the salty dog before handing it over to her.
“The alcohol tends to settle to the bottom. You have to stir it to make sure it’s completely mixed. Don’t want that last swallow to be pure alcohol. Might go straight to your head.” Rick leered as if that was exactly what he was hoping would happen.
See, this sort of thing was precisely why she didn’t like wearing short skirts and stilettos. It had guys dripping all over her.
“Thanks for watching out for me,” she said sarcastically and stirred her drink vigorously.
“My pleasure.” Rick showed a row of small, crowded teeth. Shark.
What was she doing here with this dweeb? Oh, yeah, avoiding Jeb. She looked around for him, didn’t see him. Thank heavens.
They stepped away from the bar, walking to the back of the boat. Aft, she thought it was called. She touched the straw to her lips, took a swallow of the salty dog. Not bad. Tangy. Salty. Tart. She took another sip. Hmm, on second thought, it had a weird aftertaste she didn’t really like. Maybe she could dump the drink overboard.
“Your eyes sparkle in this lighting,” Rick said. “And with the full moon behind you, the night is picture-perfect.”
“Um.”
Rick started telling her about the souped-up Camaro he’d ordered and was having shipped in from the States, expounding at length on exactly how much he’d paid for it. Like, really, who cared if he’d blown a year’s salary on a car?
He pitched forward. “You’re not drinking your drink.”
“It tastes a little weird.”
“Do you want me to get you something else?”
“No, I’m fine.”
Rick held up his beer mug. “A toast?”
“To what?”
“To seeing people in a different light.”
Why not? “To seeing people in a different light,” she repeated.
They clinked glasses. Feeling obligated, Haley took another swallow. What was that weird aftertaste? It was just supposed to be grapefruit juice, vodka and salt.
“And to a beautiful night.” Rick raised his mug again.
“To a beautiful night.” This time, she barely sipped the drink. Okay, she was definitely going to have to pour it overboard when Rick wasn’t looking.
She meandered toward the edge, but before she could get there, a woozy sensation hit her and she wobbled on her heels. Whoa, those salty dogs sneaked up on you.
“Are you all right?” Rick loomed over her.
Back off, dude. “I’m fine.” She didn’t want him to know she was feeling tipsy. “I just need to, um…go powder my nose.” And get away from you.
It occurred to her that she was spending the night running away from men. She knew that most women would love to have two guys vying over them, but Haley found it annoying more than anything else.
“Could you excuse me?” she asked, pushing her drink at him.
He curled his hand around the glass. “Sure, I’ll be waiting right here.”
Making sure to take careful steps, she maneuvered through the crowd. She longed to go home, but she couldn’t drive like this. Not with her head swirling. She’d go to the restroom, splash some cool water on her face and then go find Ahmaya and see if she was in any shape to drive them home.
Seriously, she was such a lightweight. A few sips of wine and a quarter of a salty dog and her knees were buckling.
Carefully, she made her way from the bridge to the main deck. The party was in full swing. People were dancing all over the place to The Red Hot Chili Peppers singing “Under the Bridge.” How appropriate. She realized that Jeb must have handpicked songs for the evening. Slick. What else would she expect from him?
“Bathroom?” she asked a woman she knew from the hospital.
“The one on this level is occupied, but I heard there’s an en suite in Jeb’s cabin on the lower deck.”
“Thanks,” Haley said. Wow, was she actually slurring her words? This was why she didn’t drink. She could not hold her liquor.
As she clung to the stair railing that led to the lowest deck, her head spun so wildly that she had to stop several times and take a deep breath. Finally, after what felt like a hundred years, she stumbled into the bedroom.
Jeb’s bedroom.
A strange feeling passed through her as she stared at the bed and vividly imagined herself in it with Jeb. Oh, knock it off. She had to get into that bathroom and put some cold water on her face.
She sank against the door, clicked it locked in case anyone else wandered this way. She needed privacy until the dizziness passed. After a minute, she lurched toward the bathroom door. Heat swamped her body. Her mouth was like a desert. And those damn stilettos were anchors on her feet.
This didn’t feel right. Sure, she was a lightweight drinker, but this…this was more than being tipsy. This felt wrong.
Her vision blurred. She couldn’t think. Help!
She heard a knock on the door.
“Haley?” It was Rick.
He was the last person she wanted to see.
The door handle rattled. “Haley, are you in there?”
She might not want to see him, but she was feeling very weird and maybe he could help her. She opened her mouth to answer, but belatedly, it occurred to her that Rick might have put something in her drink. The salty dog had a funky aftertaste and he’d stirred it before he’d passed it to her.
Had she been drugged? How naive was she to have trusted him?
Her heart thundered in her chest as the truth of it hit her. Rick was a predator prowling outside, waiting to pounce. Thankfully, she’d had the presence of mind to lock the bedroom door.
The bathroom was so close and yet seemed a hundred miles away. Screw it. She was going to lie right down here on Jeb’s bed for a couple of minutes, just until the dizziness passed and Rick went away, and then she’d go find Jeb and tell him what she suspected had happened to her.
Jeb
