They spent lunch on the deck with the rest of the party, eating chicken Caesar salad and drinking wine, lounging on the padded double loungers on the main deck. Jake ensured he stayed by her side and warned his friends off visually. He wouldnât put it past any of them to make a play for her if he left her alone. Such was the nature of their trips. Each guy always brought dates and some unspoken agreement that all was fair game and that no one would get prissy about it afterward.
The girls they normally brought were bed hoppers, had no loyalty, and were never anyone serious. Leila was the exception normally; she wasnât much for it, and even though he could see she wasnât that into her date, he knew she wouldnât sleep with any of the others. Emma was completely off-limits to any of them, and he would damn well break the neck of any who tried.
Jake was leaning toward Danielâs bed, Emma at his back and in conversation with Leila. Daniel was arguing about sports, one of his passions, and Jake just loved to goad him on the matter anytime it came up. He was more into manual stuff and extreme sports he could do himself, but he wasnât against watching the odd football or baseball game. Daniel was just too easy to wind up.
He was only half listening, though, as he could most definitely hear the words âhair,â âcut,â and âshortâ going on behind him, and he didnât like it one bit. Looking back at Emma, he caught Leila picking up a strand of that soft honey-blonde hair with the look of someone contemplating cutting it all off. He could feel the frown taking over his face and minor irritation as Leila said, âpixie cut,â and he could only assume that was something very short like hers.
Emma wouldnât suit Leilaâs hair. She needed soft and sweet around her face, not edgy and choppy like hers. âI think you would suit maybe shoulder length.â Leilaâs sweet, little voice was all too sultry, and he could tell she was trying to talk Emma into doing it. That persuasive eye fluttering she had suckered him with many times in the past twenty years. âMaybe.â
Emma picked up a strand too and wound it around her finger. Jake was no longer listening to Daniel at all; he was fully integrated into defending Emmaâs hair. âWhatâs wrong with how it is?â He frowned, keeping his hands down and quelling the urge to run his fingers over the strand she was holding. She suited her wavy halo of soft hair; it was feminine and her. He didnât like the idea of no longer having it hanging down her back and blowing gently in the breeze.
âWomen like a drastic change every so often.â Leila quipped at him with that sassy raised brow, and he just wanted to sit on her right about now. âIf itâs not broke, then donât fix it,â he bit back. He was used to these little head-to-heads with this short fiery devil. He would be damned if she was going to push his Emma around.
âTry on a new look.â Leila was putting on her sarcastic tone, raising that brow and challenging him again. This girl never stopped pushing his buttons, and sometimes he wondered why he hadnât just drowned her in the past.
âItâs my hair!â Emma cut in, raising her hands between the two to distract them, but she wasnât swaying these two. This was a common thingâLeila and Jake head-on in subtle ways, always finding something to challenge one another over. It was just how they were.
âI like it how it is. If you want to change it, then fine; it can always grow back.â Jake felt stupid as his tone came out; he sounded more like Emmaâs boyfriend than her boss about now, and Leila was smirking. The urge to push her face into the lounger was strong; if she still had pigtails, he was sure he would tie them over her mouth right now.
âWorried your girlfriend wonât get you all hot and bothered with short hair, Jacob?â Leila leaned over Emma and prodded him on the shoulder. He just scowled back at her. She was pushing her luck today. He could easily pick her up and throw her overboard.
âShut up, wench. Emma has more sense than to let me be her boyfriend.â ~And didnât he know it?~ âOh right, I forgot. Youâre just friends.â The honey-like way she said it made him grimace a smile her way, clenched teeth, and warning her off with his eyes. He could see that glint of cheeky amusement and really did wonder why Mrs. Huntsberger didnât smack Leila more as a child.
âI can see that,â she added sarcastically, and he wondered if spanking her now would make any difference. âReally, we are.â Emma sounded quiet and flustered, and he tried to ignore the crazy going off inside of him, trying not to react badly to something he already knew. He should have been used to her subtle rejections by now.
âWell then, you wonât care if I take her to get it all shorn off then, will you?â Leila threw a defiant look his way, and he bit his tongue to stop bickering, frowning, and glaring. As soon as he got her alone, he would chew her head off. ~Devilish little minx, she knew exactly what she was doing.~
âEmma can do whatever she wants with her hair. Sheâll always look beautiful.â He got up, walking away before he made good and sat on Leila, and tried to pull her ears off or something equally immature. ~Brat.~
âSomeone is not a happy little playboy today!â He heard her say, even though he was moving away to the buffet table, and ignored her. ~Witch!~ ~No, heâs fucking not.~ ~The last thing he wanted was Emma changing.~ ~She was perfect the goddamn way she already was!~
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