She giggles while her eyes well with tears.

I give her a quick kiss. “You’re always telling me to relax. Well, this is me, asking you to relax into us.”

“Okay.” Her lips press into mine with renewed desperation as she bites my lip playfully and tugs at my shirt. I smile against her, thinking we might add Beast-fucking to our impressive rotation. My hands close in against her thighs, and my thumb drifts lazily over the triangle patch of her panties. She moans at the touch.

“Think anyone would notice if we’re gone for a while?” she asks when she breaks for air.

“Fuck ‘em.”

She laughs. Then, we take each other right there, under the stars.

47. Marnie

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

Marnie

The following Thursday, the team and I work on last minute tasks to prepare for G&G’s Memorial Day Extravaganza. Peter and Marigold hang outdoor lights along the railing of our freshly stained gator observation deck. Roy posts the necessary signs, warning customers not to “feed, fondle, or otherwise fuck with” the gators—his description, not mine. The sign reads more professionally than that. Christie hangs colorful banners over our new picnic and dining area, stretching from the “smoking” porch to the side of the store. Wren runs the store (busy for lunch) while Wade gives Mom, Tilly, Elena, and Carmela a register and canteen tutorial—they’ve all agreed to help with our upcoming weekend.

I check in deliveries—the beer guys, the soda guys, the local farmers and artisans here to restock for what’s expected to be G&G’s biggest weekend ever.

The billboards are up and causing buzz. The mayor has agreed to kick off our festivities tomorrow at noon. We’ve booked a band and installed a life-size chess board and an extra-large Jenga set, adding more fun—I couldn’t plan an Extravaganza without games and music. The newspaper gave us a full-page spread. And my Instagram’s been on fire this week. The event promises to be a huge success.

Today’s already busy, with locals coming by to enjoy the store before the big rush.

Even so, the last person I expect to see today (or any day) is Ashe.

I don’t see him initially—just Wade, Christie, and Roy quickstepping in my direction from the dock like Bessie might be sneaking up on me for an afternoon snack. Wade fumbles with his phone, walking while talking.

I turn from my conversation with Alice Harvey, our soaps, candles, and teas vendor, to see what’s gotten them so serious, and there’s Ashe.

He pulls off his aviator sunglasses, looking dapper in his dark blue pants, striped button-down, and silky blue tie. His curly blonde hair is tamed with product, and somehow matches his cocky smirk.

I turn to Alice. “Hey, how about a fountain drink, on me? I need a minute.”