Chapter 2

2

Walt

What in the hell is wrong with me?

I can’t seem to stop watching the brunette in her little white bikini. It’s disgusting behavior on my part. Foul. She’s obviously friends with my granddaughter and that probably means they are the same age. Early twenties. Way, way too young. Criminally so.

This isn’t a problem I usually have—lusting after younger women. Hell, I like sex as much as the next guy, but only with women of an appropriate age. And only when I have time. Once it’s over, that’s it. The physical need has been fulfilled and I can move on to more important shit. But Jesus, I’ve never seen anything so sweet in my sixty-three years and I’ve been to damn near every country under the sun. Every man on the beach is in the same predicament, too. Unable to quit staring at her graceful legs, her little cans knocking around in those tiny triangles. The eager innocence of her expression.

Enough of that, sicko.

This is retirement’s fault. I’m all out of whack. I don’t have anything to keep me occupied except reading old war books and restoring the engine of my sixty-six Mustang. Fuck golf. It’s boring. But obviously I need something to occupy my mind because it’s beginning to drift to places it has no place being. Like onto my granddaughter’s friend and the shape of her waist. Hips. The way sunlight picks up deep red strands in her hair. My God, she’s a beauty.

And she definitely isn’t for a grandfather like me.

One of these young bucks on the beach will probably take her for a roll in the hay before the night is over. They probably won’t have enough skill to give her an orgasm and she’ll be left unsatisfied and aching. But that’s none of my goddamn business. So why are my fists curled in the pockets of my board shorts, ready to strike? I can’t possibly be feeling this violent toward whoever brings this baby home, can I?

No way. It’s just retirement. Has me all messed up and confused about what I want.

What I need.

It can’t be her, though. Not unless I want my family to call me a cradle robber. I’ve been absent in their lives for so long and I came here determined to be present. To reconnect with my son, my granddaughter. My brothers and sisters. Nieces and nephew. I’m the patriarch of this family and I haven’t been around in too long. I need to focus on them. Not someone four decades younger than me, for the love of everything holy.

Resolutely, I keep my gaze locked on my granddaughter’s face as she approaches, though the urge to watch the brunette come closer is gripping me.

“Grandad Walt,” Wanda says warmly, leaning in to kiss me on the cheek. “I’m so glad you’re here. I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Glad to be here,” I manage in a rumble. My social skills are abysmal. Haven’t needed to be social since…hell, since I was Wanda’s age, really. “How far along are you in school now?”

“Just finished my third year,” she says, smile bright, but wobbly. Almost like she’s a little scared of me. Exactly why I need to make a serious effort with my family this weekend. “Um…allow me to introduce you to my best friend, Coco.”

Coco.

That name is a rough sock in the gut.

Before I know what’s happening, my granddaughter is not-so-subtly shoving the brunette toward me, ducking down slightly to hide behind her back. And the girl—Coco—trips and lands smack against my chest, her tits pressing up against the highest point of my stomach. I just about manage to uncross my arms and steady her before she falls. But then…then she blinks up at me and my balls tighten painfully. Fuck. Me.

I don’t know where to begin cataloguing this young lady.

She’s got lush, sensual features. Big brown eyes. Lips that could pout and make a man start promising the moon to make them smile. She barely reaches my chin. Her arms are smooth against my work-roughened hands. I’d leave chafing marks all over her body, especially that hot ass I glimpsed when she stood up.

And these are thoughts I definitely shouldn’t be having.

Lord, when did I turn into a world-class pervert?

“I…I’m sorry,” she breathes, disentangling herself, stepping back while tucking her salt-water tumbled hair behind one ear. “Really nailed that introduction, didn’t I?”

I’m shaken by the need to reassure her. “I’m Walt,” I say, extending my hand, desperate for her to take it. “And I think it was just fine.”

Those brown eyes twinkle up at me with gratitude. My God. She couldn’t make my balls any stiffer and my cock is following suit. Why can’t I seem to get a handle on myself? “Very nice to meet you, Walt.” She chews her lip a moment, shooting a quick look backward at Wanda. “Your granddaughter and I…we go to school together.”

“Paired as roommates freshmen year,” Wanda ventures, still looking nervous. “We are exact opposites. I’m outgoing, Coco is an introvert. I struggle in class, she is the study group phenom. I eat steak for breakfast and she’s vegan. We make no sense on paper but I wouldn’t trade her for the world.”

I realize I’m still holding on to Coco’s hand and quickly let it go, but the twin pink spots of color on her cheeks don’t escape my notice. She’s probably embarrassed for me. Thinks I’m a sad old man who gets turned on by a handshake. “Sounds like you two are quite a team.”

“Yeah,” Coco murmurs, her attention falling briefly to my throat, lingering there long enough to make me swallow hard. “We are.”

“Is that Bryce from the debate team?” Wanda asks, half to herself. “I’m going to go check. I’ll be right back.”

Wanda jogs across the sand toward a group of young men…and I’m left looking down into Coco’s sun-kissed face, her chest starting to rise and fall faster. Probably because she doesn’t want to be left alone with the handshake pervert. I’m just about to excuse myself, so I can go back to my room at the hotel and take a cold shower. But just as I open my mouth, she blurts, “This is my first vacation.”

Surely I didn’t hear that correctly. “Your first vacation?”

“Yes.” Those spots on her cheeks turn from pink to red. “I know it’s your first time at the reunion in decades. Wanda told me. I just thought…maybe you feel as out of place as I do.” All I can do is stare at this dark-haired angel, the sounds of the beach growing muffled around us. “If you do, that’s okay. You’re not alone.”

As unlikely as it seems, this girl suddenly feels like my closest confidant. “I feel out of place everywhere but a situation room at the Pentagon,” I admit.

She nods slowly. “Do you think that will ever change?”

“No.”

Is it my imagination or is she breathing faster than before? So much so that her words trip over themselves when she says, “Maybe it will. If you meet the right person to share your time with.”

“I don’t think that person exists,” I force out, not sure why the words feel like a lie.

“But you might,” she whispers—and that’s when the unimaginable happens. She brushes her fingers against mine and leans in just a touch closer. “You might.”

There’s no help for my dick now. It’s fully erect, pressed against the laces of my board shorts. She’s close enough that I can taste the sand and salt resting on her skin. It wafts up, warmed by sunshine and makes my mouth water. Is she teasing me? Or is she showing genuine interest in me?

Can’t be the latter. No chance. I’m an old man compared to her. I might sweat for an hour and a half in the gym every morning and spar at the boxing club on weekends, but I’m a grandfather. This girl is still in college. I must be imagining her interest. She’s probably just the touchy-feely type. There’s no other plausible explanation.

Whatever is happening here, that touch of her fingers has the tip of my cock wet with sticky sperm and I need to get somewhere alone before I embarrass myself.

“Excuse me, Coco,” I choke out, striding away, holding my T-shirt over my erection on the way into the hotel. Before I can enter through the double doors, I catch her reflection in the glass, shocked to find her staring after me with unabashed hero worship with a side of hunger…

And I wonder if this weekend has suddenly got a lot more complicated. Or if I’m merely dreaming up the connection I already have with this twenty-one-year-old girl.