“It’s fine,” I assured him softly. Then I glanced up at Nat and reached for the drink she offered. “Thanks.”
I took a sip of the cold punch and nearly groaned when the sweet and spicy flavors hit my tongue. “Perfect.” Cal straightened up and pulled the cup out of my hand to take a sip. I watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. He handed it back with a cheeky grin and then turned to Prescott. I felt his body tense, but his face stayed happy and easy.
“So, Prescott and Lucas, do you collect anything? Jin collects vintage automobiles, Nat collects old concert tickets, Mia collects vinyl which is weird since she admits to not owning a record player, and Jade implied earlier that she collects parking tickets.”
I could tell Nat was besotted with Cal. What he didn’t know was, while she did collect old concert tickets, her most valuable collection was the group of friends and family she attracted and held close to her heart. I could already see Cal was her newest acquisition, and that realization made my heart speed up in fear. I didn’t want to let her down when she learned the truth.
Lucas looked over at Pres, deferring to him for a response.
Prescott’s nostrils flared. He was clearly annoyed by Cal’s presence, and it wasn’t like I could blame him. Had I been in his shoes, I’d have been very uncomfortable right about now.
“I collect wine,” he said. “Lucas doesn’t much care for it, but I’ve been trying to educate him on the benefits of having a varied selection on hand for any occasion.”
Lucas blushed and looked a little flustered. “I prefer craft beer, so I really don’t need a selection of wine on hand.” He glanced at Prescott. “Except for you, I mean. Which is why I installed the temperature-controlled wine thingy.”
Prescott sighed. “It’s called a wine cellar, Lucas.”
“But that doesn’t make any sense since it’s not in the basement. It’s more of a fridge, I think,” Lucas said, shooting Cal a wink. I was surprised by it. He was obviously acknowledging Prescott’s snobbery in some way. Either that, or he was simply feeling playful and teasing. Either way, I liked seeing him joke around, and I wanted to see more of it. If he could hold his own around Prescott, maybe I didn’t need to worry quite so much about him.
“It’s still called a wine cellar, Lucas,” Pres muttered. It wasn’t until then that I realized Pres was drinking wine and not punch. His loss.
Cal shifted against my side, sliding one lightly haired leg against mine. I closed my eyes to focus on the feel of it but then quickly snapped out of it and tried to focus on taking another sip of my drink.
Cal’s fingers meandered across my chest as he spoke. I was grateful to be wearing a shirt since it was the only thing keeping me from groaning out loud at his touch. “My grandfather has a special storage solution for his wine. It’s a shelving system built from scrap two-by-fours, and it can hold up to fifty boxes of Bota or thirty boxes of Franzia. We tested it when we had my brother’s wedding. We’re kind of a family of Bota Box sluts, so we stocked up.” Cal reached for my cup and stole another sip. “When I get married, I’m flying Julo in to make this shit for my wedding party. It’s incredible.”
Prescott coughed into his hand. “Where did you say you were from, again?”
Cal sat up and stretched, raising his arms above his head and then twisting side to side. I couldn’t take my eyes off him, and neither could Prescott.
“Hobie, Texas. Teeny place kind of northwest of Dallas and closer to Oklahoma.”
“How did you get into sailing growing up in a place like that?” Lucas asked.
Cal pulled his knees up and wrapped his arms around them. My eyes went straight to the bulge between his legs, but as soon as I realized what I was doing, I looked up at his face. He bit his bottom lip to hold back a smile, and his cheeks were pink from more than the sun. Clearly he’d caught me staring at his junk. I huffed and looked out to sea.
His voice was light with laughter when he spoke again which drew my eyes right back to him like industrial magnets. “Hobie sits on a large lake with tons of pleasure boats. There’s a sailing camp on the lake, and the woman who runs it also rents sailboats to tourists. I fell in with her when I was little and never looked back.”
I could tell by his closed-up body language he wasn’t interested in sharing more details. I felt oddly special that I knew the story of Annie’s camp and how important it had been to Cal’s future. Without thinking about it, I reached over and took his hand in mine. He glanced up at me and gave me a soft smile of thanks.