She gives a low laugh and shakes her head. “Breton has no idea what she’s talking about. She obviously wants you back, and probably said that out of spite.”
“You think Charlie is into guys?” I ask, not that I really should be getting involved with her. I’m only here for a couple more weeks, and as for a little fun, she doesn’t seem the type for a hook-up. I don’t want her to look at me as a ticket out of here, either. Been there, done that, and have the scars to prove it. Which makes me wonder why I’m asking, “Do you think she likes… me?” God, I sound immature and pathetic.
Her grin widens. “She’s really throwing you off, isn’t she?”
“Meaning?”
“You’re a smart guy, Wes. You can figure it out.”
4
Charlie
After we pay for our purchases, we step back outside and the sun is lower on the horizon as tourists flock to the downtown core. The sweet smell of the ocean as well as delicious food smells from all the vendors lining the shore fill the air. We load our stuff into the trunk and because it’s a gorgeous evening, I’d really love to hit the waterfront and grab something to eat before we go back home.
I turn to Jules as she stuffs numerous bags into the trunk. I laugh at all her purchases, and some things for little Sophie too. It was fun to hang out with her, and her husband, and…okay, it was fun to hang out with Wes, too. But seriously, I really enjoyed the shopping and girl talk with someone other than my three younger sisters.
“Do you want to grab a beaver tail?” I ask, and both Jules and Rider look at me with a mixture of curiosity and quiet concern in their eyes.
“Ah, what’s a beaver tail?” Jules asks, her nose crinkled, and I open my mouth about to explain when Wes puts his hand on my shoulder to stop me. The heat from his skin seeps into me, and just like that—like a switch is being flicked from off to on—heat bombards every inch of my body. I hope and pray no one can tell what’s going on inside me. The truth is, his touch is anything but sexual, and my nipples should not be reacting with enthusiasm.
“Let me,” he says, his lips quirking, and I quickly catch on. “A beaver tail is a Canadian thing. Dessert. We eat them.”
Jules fumbles back a step, her eyes are wide, and her mouth is opening and closing as she stares at us, a minute of shock and repulsion on her pretty face. As her lashes blink rapidly over dark eyes, Wes and I exchange a knowing glance, and I telegraph a secret message that I’m willing to play along, have a little fun with his friends.
“Yeah,” I say, jumping in as he steps a bit closer, nudging me gently, happy that I’m game to mess with his friends. “We have them with maple, or coconut or chocolate.” I briefly close my eyes and lick my lips. “Mmm…delicious.”
Wes rubs his stomach, and my gaze follows the motion. What would those hard abs feel like beneath my fingers? God, I really need to stop thinking about him sexually. I’m beginning to lose my mind. “My favorite is hazelnut spread and bananas.”
“The Banarama,” I say and he gives me a wide grin, his eyes glistening with a smile. It’s weird, because as I look at him, play along like we’re thick as thieves, I can’t help but feel this strange bond weaving between us. It’s not smart to let these weird emotions tug at me, but I’m not sure there is anything I can do about it as we playfully conspire and share secrets.
“What do you like, Charlie?” Wes asks and it takes me a minute to register his words, but there’s a heat in his eyes, and for the briefest of seconds I can’t help but think he’s asking what I like…sexually.
Get it together, girl.
“Mine is the classic, a beaver tail covered in sugar and cinnamon,” I blurt out, hoping I sound normal, and not ridiculously aroused. “So good.”
I struggle to keep the grin from my face, as Rider blinks, his lips twisted in derision as we moan over the pastry dessert.
“You eat a beaver’s tail?” Rider asks, his voice loud, horrified, and he adjusts his ball cap, his eyes darting around, completely unsure of the situation. He backs up to where Jules is standing, and I keep the grin from my face.
Wes does the same with his cap, readjusting it over his mess of hair. “Oh yeah, so good. Come on. This is one Canadian experience you can’t miss.”
Jules holds her hands up. “I am not eating a beaver’s tail, Wes. I’m willing to try new things but not that.”
“We all know I’m a thrill seeker, but uh uh, no fucking way.”
Wes laughs, working hard to keep it together, and I step closer, almost behind him to hide the laughter fighting its way out of my throat.
“But you’ll love it,” We assure them.
Jules holds both hands up, palms out. “The fact that you knit is strange, Wes, but now I find out you eat beaver’s tails.”
Rider shakes his head. “Canadians are fucking weird.”
Wes and I burst out laughing, neither of us able to hold it in a second longer. I put my hand on his back, and his muscles quake beneath my fingers. “Americans, eh?” Wes says with a jerk of his head.
“Hosers,” I add as we laugh harder, but our American friends look less than impressed. I pull myself together, step up to Jules and loop my arm through hers.