CHAPTER 30
Sunday morning.
How had the window gotten on the wrong side of the room? Who was that snoring? Why was I in bed wearing my one-piece swimsuit and a flip-flop on one foot?
It dawned on me that I wasn’t at home in my own bed.
I opened my eyes and took in the unfamiliar but not unpleasant surroundings of the winery resort’s second-best room. My parents were down the hall in the luxury suite. Sleeping next to me was TV’s Drake Cheshire.
Hmm.
No, this wasn’t my usual Sunday morning.
My bladder had a mission for me, though, so I bravely swung my legs out from under the covers. My bare foot landed on something warm and soft. I recoiled and huddled back on the bed.
There on the carpet, spread-eagle on his back, was Dalton’s father, Jake “Big Dick” Blake. I covered my mouth to keep from screaming.
Jake wasn’t naked, exactly. He was technically in a pair of boxers, but not all of him was in his boxers.
The boxers were the kind with a loose split down the front. A very loose split.
That’s right.
The p**n star’s one-eyed trouser snake was wide awake and catching a little morning sun.
Keeping my eyes carefully averted, I shimmied over to the foot of the bed and slowly climbed off. I slipped off the one flip-flop, which I didn’t recognize as my own, and went into the bathroom.
I locked the door, turned on the shower and fan for privacy, and sat down with my face in my hands as flashes of the previous evening came back to me.
Putting the pieces together took some time.
I got into the shower in a daze.
As I finished my shower and got dried off, I had most of the events sorted out.
We’d gone to the hot tub the night before, where we had the steamy room to ourselves. We’d been sitting in the hot tub for about five minutes’ worth of kissing when Dalton’s father came into the room. He had a woman on either arm and a bottle of liquor in one hand.
Although I knew better than to drink in a hot tub, I figured a few shots* wouldn’t kill me, but would help with the tension in the steamy, cedar-paneled room.
Dalton and his father had barely seen each other over the past eight years, but they both seemed to want to mend their relationship.
The two men made uneasy small talk, trying to out-grin each other. The two women climbed into the hot tub with me, and started chatting like my new best friends.
*Public service announcement: hot tubs make you sweat, and booze makes you stupid. The result is extreme dehydration, heart failure, and worse. By worse, I mean when you’re drinking with a bunch of dudes and realize there’s one guy who doesn’t bother getting out to empty his bladder. End of PSA.
Jake climbed into the hot tub and started passing around the bottle. Pretty soon, the five of us were all singing We Are Family by Sister Sledge. Acapella.
Long story short, after the staff kicked us out at midnight to lock up, Jake walked us back to our room to make sure we got in safely. He sampled some items from the mini-bar, then passed out on the floor, wearing the same boxer shorts he’d been using as his swimming trunks* at the hot tub.
*The boxer shorts were in violation of posted hotel policies, which also included strict rules against drinking in the hot tub.
Refreshed from my shower and several glasses of water, I came out of the bathroom with a fluffy robe wrapped tightly around me.
The guys were both awake now, and Jake appeared to be wearing a pair of Dalton’s jeans, which fit perfectly. They both sat shirtless at the small table, laughing over the events of the previous night.
“Why aren’t you in your room with your new girlfriends?” Dalton asked his father.
“I called the room and told them to get started without me. Sharon’s going to motorboat Karen for a while.”
“What’s the motorboat again?”
“Just my general term for everything you can do without a dick.”
Did they not see me, standing right there? Apparently not.
They both laughed about motorboating, and for an instant, I wanted to return to a more innocent time, when the idea of seeing his father caused Dalton to have panic attacks.
Jake launched into a graphic description of giving o**l s*x to two women at once. “The trick is stacking them right,” he said. “Front to front. Never back to back, or you’ve got too far to go, unless you like ass-munching, which is—”
I didn’t hear the rest, because I’d grabbed some nearby clothes and snuck out of the room.
Now I was in the hallway wearing nothing but a robe, my clothes in one hand.
You know that expression, about how when one door closes, another opens? The door directly in front of me swung open, as though someone else had been expecting me.
A man stepped through the doorway and startled when he saw me.
CHAPTER 31
“Connor!” I said.
Standing in front of me was the other sexy actor from One Vamp to Love. For those of you who aren’t fans, Connor is the angsty, brooding, do-gooder vampire brother to Drake Cheshire. While Drake goes around bedding hotties and biting them on the inner thighs, Connor is always finding new potions and elixirs to lessen their vampire powers, because he feels they are abominations of nature and blah-blah self-loathing boring crap.
“It’s really you, Connor.”
“Nice to meet you,” Connor said, extending his hand. “I’m Connor Adair, the actor, not Connor Cheshire, the vampire. I won’t bite.”
“And what brings you to this winery? Are you here on some mission to give your brother an elixir to slow him down? I’m afraid you’re a bit late for that.” I let a nervous laugh escape my dry mouth. I’d gotten used to staring at Drake/Dalton’s face, but seeing Connor in the flesh was a whole new level of surreal. Was I still drunk from the previous night?
“He’s my cousin,” Connor said. “In real life, by real human blood. Didn’t my uncle Jake tell you?”
“Derr.” (Yes, I actually said that, as I looked down at my toes.)
My toes didn’t have any answers, so I looked up to see Connor nodding, a troubled expression on his handsome face. He did have similar features to Dalton, which I’d always assumed was good casting. His dark hair was cut shorter than Dalton’s, and his nose was thinner and longer, giving him a look I associated with sophistication. His eyes weren’t green, but a bright blue, also rimmed with thick, dark lashes.
“You really are his cousin,” I said, astonished that I hadn’t known sooner.
“If you didn’t know that, I’m guessing he doesn’t, either. I only found out on Friday, when my mother told me. She hadn’t told Dalton yet, because she wanted to speak to his father first.”