Lovewrecked - Karina Halle Page 0,22

The Great Extreme Grump. Guess I really must do that to him.

I sigh and scroll to the next one on the roll.

It’s a blurry selfie of the two of us.

My arm is around his neck, holding him down to my height.

He’s looking deep into the camera, frowning to the extreme.

My mouth is open, smiling, all teeth, loving this.

The next photo my arm around his neck is even tighter and I’m pressing my thumb between his brow as if to stop him from frowning. In this photo, his eyes are dancing and it looks like he’s trying not to smile.

Then there’s the next photo, where I’ve pulled him right to me, like literally right on top of my boobs, and he’s laughing and I’m kissing the top of his head.

Oh my god.

This photo.

Not only did I get him to laugh, I’m actually kissing him, with his head on my boobs. Granted it looked to be in a non-intimate kind of way considering there are people in the background of this photo. But still.

Then there’s the next photo, which is a selfie of just me, making a dramatic sad face, my hair all messy, my lipstick smeared.

Oh wait, I can see Tai in the background, walking away.

That was the last photo.

Thank god.

I put the phone back down, feeling that guilty, shameful and anxious mix of feelings that you get the day after you’ve had too much to drink and have made a fool of yourself, but can’t quite remember. I just hope that the photos were the worst of it and I didn’t do anything stupid.

I sigh loudly and decide I can’t hide in my room any longer.

I get dressed into a simple white sundress and then head over to the bathroom across the hall to do my business and apply a little bit of makeup. I don’t hear anything in the house, which is strange. Perhaps they all went somewhere and left me here.

Oh, I know what it is. They probably took Lacey and Richard to the marina to see them off. Shit, I would have liked to have at least said goodbye.

After I’ve done my best to cover up the hangover on my face, I step back into the hall. I poke my head into my parent’s room and see all their luggage. The door to the Wakefield’s bedroom is open and when I call out, no one answers. There’s one more room that has always been shut and I’m tempted to open it, but instead I look inside Lacey and Richard’s.

To my puzzlement, all their luggage is still here. In fact, one duffel bag is on the bed, half-packed.

That’s weird.

I head downstairs, still finding no one, and then finally head out the back.

Sitting at the patio table in the backyard are Lacey and Richard, with Tai leaning against the house, a beer in hand. There’s a laptop open in front of them, and everyone’s phones are out.

“Hey,” I say to them. “I thought you left without saying goodbye.”

Lacey looks up at me, tears running down her face.

Oh shit.

“Oh my god, what happened?” I ask her, quickly coming over. My heart jolts in my chest, thinking the worst. “Are mom and dad okay?”

“Your parents are in town getting provisions,” Richard says calmly. “We’ve had some unexpected bad news.”

Then both Richard and Lacey look at Tai.

He gives them a chagrined smile. “I’m telling you, we can work this out.”

“So, what happened?” I ask, pulling out a chair and sitting down. I have to remember that Lacey does cry over the slightest thing. She has two moods: resting bitch face, and crying.

“Intrepid, the boat that they were supposed to charter,” Tai explains with a long sigh, “has a problem. A big problem. The last people who chartered the boat put in bad fuel. Meaning, water got in the tank. And I wasn’t here to check on them, so now the boat is fucked and draining the tanks is going to take a few days, at the least. Might even need to bring it out of the water.”

“My honeymoon is ruined,” Lacey wails, throwing her head back and sniffling into a tissue.

“It’s not ruined, angel boo,” Richard says, and I cringe inwardly at the nickname. “We’re still going to go sailing.”

“Isn’t there, like, a shitload of other boats you can charter?” I ask. “I mean, what about all these boats.” With a bold sweep of my arm I gesture to the bay, which has at least a dozen of them at anchor. “They’re