Page 33 of Courting Danger

Chapter 10

Ocean

With stars shimmering overhead and the reflection of the full moon glowing on the surface of the water, Ocean sprawled, belly stuffed from supper, in one of the wooden deck chairs on Pope’s deck. The view was spectacular; the company, even better.

Roan had dragged his chair over beside Ocean’s, lining it up so it was like they had one big chair to share. A bonfire crackled in the firepit as Danger let out a belch that echoed down the deserted beach.

“You didn’t intend for us to move anytime soon, did you?” Danger remarked.

Danger had already loosened his belt halfway through supper. Now, he popped the button on his fly, groaning as he sprawled in his chair.

“That was the best steak ever,” Ocean moaned, still feeling extremely stuffed and bloated himself as he sparked a joint.

“Glad you approve,” Pope replied. “That rub hasn’t failed me yet. My grandfather put it together. Got pissed as hell when myold man tweaked it with a hint of cayenne, but I like my meat with a bit of spice, so I’ve always followed suit, much to my grandfather’s continued disappointment.”

“He’s still alive?” Roan asked.

“And as crotchety as a hurricane,” Pope explained. “Doesn’t get around so well anymore, so he sits on the porch cursing out the neighbors and threatening to beat people with his cane.”

“Sounds like Dalton.”

“Because they’re cut from the same cloth,” Pope replied, chuckling.

“You know what you should do, since you’ve created a captive audience,” Danger said. “Break out your guitar and entertain us.”

“You play guitar?” Roan asked, a stream of smoke curling around his head as he passed the joint back to Ocean.

“You name a classic rock song and chances are, Pope can play it,” Danger replied. “Though the best part is thinking up the most obscure ones and playing Stump Pope.”

“How often do you lose?” Ocean asked.

Danger groaned and let his head fall back against one of the cushions covering the wooden lounge chair. “All the damned time.”

“Challenge accepted then,” Ocean said, wiggling so he was sitting up straighter instead of sprawled so low it was tempting to fall asleep.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you guys planned this,” Pope declared, narrowing his eyes at Danger as he stood and headed for the sliding glass doors that led to the den.

“Yes!” Danger declared, clapping his hands and cackling. “Guys, you are in for a treat.”

“Is he really that good?” Roan asked.

Danger rolled, groaning and letting out a smaller burp, then sniffed, and finally noticed what they were up to when Ocean passed the joint back to Roan after taking a couple of tokes.

“Better,” Danger replied. “Hey, let me get in on the rotation.”

Roan held the joint out to him, but there was too much distance between their chairs, so Danger rolled out of his and stood so he could drag the chair closer.

“Next time I’m skipping that second baked potato,” he grumbled, grunting as he positioned it beside Roan’s, trapping him between them.

“They were so good though,” Ocean moaned, rubbing his stomach. “If I could have eaten two of them, I’d have done it too.”

“Trust me, you’d be paying for it now, the same as I am,” Danger groaned. “When he breaks out dessert and drinks later, which he will, I might have to wave the white flag and concede.”

“Dessert,” Roan moaned. “I love desserts, but I don’t think I can eat another bite, even when the munchies hit.”

“Gonna die eventually,” Ocean said. “I’d rather it be at the hands of a lavish dessert than be eaten by a shark.”

“Gotta admire the logic,” Danger declared as Pope emerged, gleaming brown and tan acoustic guitar in hand, to park himself on one of the lounge chairs.