of champagne cocktails.
Without a second thought, Cole asked the server, “Can you please bring one glass of straight champagne?” Penn was a purist at heart, at least with her alcohol.
The server nodded, delivered the rest of his drinks, and then rushed off.
“The time has come.” Harold clinked his glass while Margot rustled under the table.
Cathy was ready to sit beside her husband, so she switched seats with Penn, who sat down beside him with a smile. Her sweet lilac scent infused his senses. It was better than the scent of any gourmet meal he’d ever eaten.
“This is what we’re playing for, children.” Her mother placed the infamous Foster cup on the table. The entire family, with the exception of Penn and himself, gave a collective sigh.
The trophy was exactly as Cole had expected. Something that you’d find in a high school athletics case. The base was dark wood. Two sides were covered with gold plates that identified the winners.
Poor Penn. She’d spent the last twenty years striving for something that was completely out of her reach. A matter of pride for the woman who, on a daily basis, expertly battled the media and developed marketing blitz campaigns. But sports? Not so much.
Determination washed over him. He wasn’t leaving this island until her name was on that trophy. He owed her this. For all the moody, broody grunts she’d had to put up with over the past three years, it was the least he could do.
“I am officially ringing in the 2015 Foster Family Fun-cation,” Mr. Foster announced.
The children cheered from their seats. Andy slapped his fork against the table, and Sara danced in her seat to her own music.
Cole couldn’t wait for Finn and Veronica’s baby to arrive so their family get-togethers had one of these adorable kids to fawn over.
Harold pointed down to the trophy. “Beth and Dave, you are the returning champions.”
“Five years in a row,” Beth boasted, looking over at Penn and staring her down.
Okay, someone was a little too competitive.
Penn fidgeted beside Cole. The need to protect blazed inside his chest, coupled with a sense of ownership. He wanted desperately to wrap his arms around her shoulders and pull her close, but that would only make things more complicated.
“Cole, this trophy is now twenty years old.” Her father held it up. “Because of the special occasion, I have arranged for a very tough, very meticulous scavenger hunt as the final event.”
“Yes!” Dave yelled out. “We kill at scavenger hunts.” He held up his hand, and Beth high-fived her husband.
Penn leaned in and whispered, “The key to the scavenger hunt is splitting up the list. It’s been my biggest disadvantage.” She smiled a devious grin, apparently forgetting about the humiliating kiss they’d just shared.
But she was right to. The scavenger hunt was why he was here. Awkward kisses be damned.
“Not this year,” he said. “Not with me here.”
She tilted her head, and it was just about to rest on his shoulder when the server came up beside her. She straightened. “Oh, do you think you could—”
He placed the flute of plain champagne beside her.
“Thank…you.” She smiled up at the server, then looked over at Cole, and her smile grew even wider. “Thank you.”
He shrugged. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t made it clear on more than one occasion that champagne was not to be trifled with.
When dinner was over, the group walked out of the restaurant and congregated in the hotel lobby.
“Cole,” Ian yelled over an impromptu serenade by Sara. “We’re going to walk on the beach with the kids. Do you and Penn want to join us?”
“We’d lo—”
Penn squeezed his arm tight. “I need to get the hell out of here,” she whispered in his ear. “Drink?”
Cole glanced between Ian and Penn. He knew where his loyalty lay. With Penn. “Maybe tomorrow night. I’m a little tired from the flight this morning.”
“Sure. I get it.” Ian waggled his eyebrows and gathered up the children’s sweaters and toys.
They were just going for drinks, Cole reminded himself.
Man, did Ian have it all wrong.
Chapter Four
Penn hiccupped. Too much champagne. If she could have slapped her face without looking like an idiot, she would have. This whole scenario was just asking for trouble.
For once, she had been looking forward to the Foster Family Fun-cation because it meant a break from temptation. But here it was, temptation with a capital T in the living, breathing, all-too-tempting flesh.
She’d touched that flesh. Practically humped that flesh back in her bathroom. Her insides heated