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  Summer Break on the Beach

  Insta Love Island Book 7

  Jane Fox

  Copyright © 2020

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover Design by Resplendent Media

  Contents

  1. Nora

  2. Ash

  3. Nora

  4. Ash

  Epilogue

  Up next: Son of a Beach

  Insta Love Island

  Get Exclusive Scenes

  About the Author

  1

  Nora

  I’ve never been on a spite vacation before. I have to admit, it’s not quite as enjoyable as I’d hoped.

  “Another Slippery Pole?” the bartender at the swim-up bar asks, whisking away my empty daiquiri glass.

  Why not? It’s not like I have anywhere to be other than wallowing in self-pity. I nod.

  I hear the men before I see them. They’re not making any effort to be quiet as they make their way to the pool.

  “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” one grumbles.

  “What else were you going to do? Sit in your apartment for the whole break, watching old game videos so you can take notes?”

  “Shut up.”

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  They walk around the corner, and I have to force myself to snap my jaw closed. Both of them are huge: tall and muscular. There’s a blond guy that looks like every frat guy I went to college with. The other guy is the hottest man I’ve ever seen in person. He’s got olive skin, black hair, and ridiculously green eyes. He looks like a movie star.

  And I’m staring right at him like I’ve never seen a man before.

  I turn my attention back to my drink again, playing with the paper umbrella in it. I figure the guys will take one look at me and decide the next pool over is a better bet. But I hear a loud splashing as they wade in.

  “Shots!” the blond guy says as they make their way to the bar.

  “You’re not going to leave me alone until I do a couple shots with you, are you?” the dark-haired guy asks.

  “Not a chance,” says the blond.

  “Fine,” the dark-haired one says with a sigh. “You may as well get a round of tequila shots for the bar.”

  ‘The bar’ consists of me and the bartender. I consider declining, but that feels like more work than just downing the shot.

  “Thanks,” I say softly.

  “No problem,” the dark-haired guy says—-and sits down right next to me.

  The bar isn’t small. They could sit on the other side and we’d have to yell to talk to one another. But he takes the seat right next to mine.

  “I’m Ash,” he says. “This golden-retriever of a human being next to me is Jared.”

  “Hey!” Jared says, making a big deal of splashing around Ash to get to me. “Nice to meet you!”

  “I’m Nora,” I say, hoping that they’ll forget I exist once they do their shots. I’m not psychologically ready to deal with two buff guys making small talk with me.

  I should have been prepared. Nothing else is going the way I want, so why should this?

  The bartender pours four shots and we all down one. It tastes like a shot of pure rubbing alcohol and burns as I swallow it. I keep it down, but it’s not a sure thing.

  “Another!” Jared says.

  The bartender fills us up again.

  “You don’t have to,” Ash says quietly to me. “I get the sense you’re not a tequila fan.”

  “Thanks,” I say, for lack of anything else to say. Ash takes my glass and hands it to Jared, who downs it with no problems.

  “How long have you been here, Nora?” Ash asks.

  It appears I’m not going to get out of the small talk.

  “I got in yesterday.”

  “Are you here with anyone?”

  My spidey-senses ought to be tingling. No matter how hot he might be, I know better than to tell a stranger I’m all alone. But apparently the tequila has gone to work already, and I shake my head and say, “Just me.”

  “There’s a story here,” Ash says.

  I shouldn’t tell him. I know I shouldn’t. But my mouth drops open and spills all my shame.

  “My ex is an asshole,” I blurt.

  Ash raises an eyebrow. “What’d he do?”

  “He bought another girl a necklace. Using our joint savings account—our future account—which he barely ever contributed to. Basically, he spent $1500 on jewelry for the girl he was cheating on me with.”

  Ash winces.

  “That fucker!” Jared interjects. “We need more shots.”

  Ash puts his hand over his shot glass, and Jared still has mine. The bartender pours two shots for Jared: one in his glass and one in mine. Jared downs them in short order.

  “I can’t believe I’m telling you this,” I mutter.

  “You can’t stop now!” Ash says. “What’d you do to the bastard?”

  I sigh. I’m aware that my response wasn’t the most mature, and that it was like cutting off my nose to spite my face. “I pulled the rest of the money out of the account, marched into the local travel agent’s office, and told them the dates I wanted to go on vacation and how much I had.”

  “Is this that vacation?” Ash asks.

  I nod.

  “Is it worth it?”

  “Not so far,” I say. “All I can think about are the circumstances that led to me being here. It’s put a pall on the whole thing. I should have planned to bring a friend with me, but I wasn’t thinking straight.”

  “We’ll be your friends,” Ash says with an absolutely perfect grin. “At least I will be. At the rate this lightweight is going, he’ll be passed out within the hour.”

  “Vacation! Woooooo!” Jared yells.

  “I don’t want to drag you down with me,” I say. He’s only offering to be polite, and the one thing that will make me feel even worse than I already do is knowing I’m being a bother to someone else.

  “Maybe we’ll drag you up with us,” Ash says. “If anyone can do it, it’s this asshole.” He jerks his head towards Jared.

  “So why are you guys here?” I ask.

  “I’m going to go out on a limb and say you’re not a fan of professional hockey.”

  I shake my head.

  “Well, Twinkletoes here is one of the Hockey League of America’s star centers,” he says.

  Jared waggles his eyebrows. “Chosen third in the draft.”

  I don’t know what that means, but I sense this is supposed to impress me, so I widen my eyes and tilt my head a bit.

  “I just keep guys from getting the puck near the net,” Ash says. “We play for the Halifax Edge.”

  “I know nothing about hockey,” I admit. “It’s played on skates, right?”

  “Wow,” Jared says. “You really don’t know anything about it, huh? You’re clearly not Canadian.”

  “American,” I say. “From Iowa.”

  “Well, no wonder you don’t know hockey. Iowa’s not especially known for it.”

  “It’s all about football,” I agree. “Pro, college, high school—football at every level.”

  Jared waves dismissively. “Too slow for me. Don’t you get bored watching it?”
/>   “Me? Yeah. But most people don’t.”

  “So,” Ash says, steering the topic away from organized sports (to my relief), “what can Jared and I do to make your vacation better?”

  And if that’s not a loaded question from a guy as gorgeous as Ash.

  Jared steps between us and slips an arm around both of our shoulders. “Threesome?” he says. “I’m man enough to admit that Ash is really attractive.”

  “Get off me, you idiot,” Ash says. “You’re not my type.”

  He looks at me for a moment, his gaze sweeping down my body. I feel goosebumps starting on my arms. He can’t possibly be insinuating what I think he is. I’m a dumpy girl nursing a broken heart. He’s a Greek god who plays professional hockey. A guy like Ash? He can have anyone he wants.

  “Why do I suddenly feel like I’m intruding?” Jared says. “You two are throwing some major vibes.”

  “Tipton, has anyone ever told you that you have a big mouth?” Ash says. There’s an edge to his voice, but it’s laced with affection.

  “Well, one time there were these two girls I took home after a game, and they said—”

  “Shut it before you get yourself in more trouble.”

  “Don’t worry on my behalf,” I say. “I’m headed up to my room. It was nice to meet you guys.”

  I’m gracelessly sloshing towards the stairs of the pool when I hear Ash call, “Nora.”

  I turn, and he says, “If Jared hasn’t completely scared you off, do you want to have dinner with us? You can help me keep him in line.”

  I hesitate. It gives me more opportunities to generally make a fool of myself, but it also gives me more time to stare at Ash.

  What the hell. It’s not like I’m ever going to see them again after this vacation.

  “Sure.”

  “Meet us at the hotel restaurant at seven, okay?”

  “It’s a date,” I say.

  I then spend the rest of the time until dinner obsessing about how stupid it was to call it a date.

  Insecurity, thy name is Nora.

  2

  Ash

  “I’m going to be so pissed at you if you scared her off,” I growl at Jared as soon as Nora’s out of earshot.

  “Man, you’ve got a big-boy crush on her, don’t you?” Jared says, grinning.

  I roll my eyes, but he’s not wrong. I’d noticed Nora right away, sitting all alone at the bar. Her black hair curled in waves around her shoulders, and the light robe she had around her swimsuit still showed off her gorgeous curves to perfection. I was a goner before we even made it to the bar. Then I talked to her and discovered she’s interesting and sweet, too. I never even had a chance.

  “I think I’ll tell her at dinner,” Jared says. He doesn’t mean anything by it; in his mind, he’d be doing me a favor.

  I didn’t think I’d be especially fond of him when he’d first been drafted. First of all, there’s the age difference. He’s only twenty-one. At twenty-eight, with seven years in the HLA, I’ve seen a lot of talented guys come and go. He’s a skilled player, but he opens his mouth and bullshit just pours out. I figured him for a braggart and an attention whore. While he is the latter, it’s not on purpose. It’s just who he is. By the end of the season, we’d somehow developed a fast friendship.

  When he invited me to spend a week on Pole Island, the first thing I did was make sure he didn’t think it was some sort of strip club. The more I thought about it, though, the more it seemed like a fun idea. I get a little too uptight sometimes. I need someone like Jared around to remind me to take myself a little less seriously.

  That being said, he needed to tone it down around Nora.

  “Remember that talk we had on the plane when you tried to get the flight attendant to sneak you some extra vodka?” I ask.

  “Vaguely.”

  “About how some people can’t handle you when you’re turned up to eleven.”

  “Yeah,” he says, splashing water.

  I can tell I’m losing him. I better say what I need to stay quickly.

  “How about you turn it down to seven at dinner?”

  “Seven?” he says, sounding disappointed. “I thought you loved me just as I am, Ash.”

  “At this point, you’re lucky I tolerate you. What are you turning it down to for dinner?”

  “Seven,” he says. “But don’t blame me if dinner is completely boring.”

  It turns out all my lecturing was unnecessary. By the time I leave for dinner, Jared’s passed out on his bed, snoring lightly. I try to wake him up but he whines and goes back to sleep.

  I’ll bring him back a burger. After all the booze he’s consumed, he needs to eat something.

  I head down to the restaurant about ten minutes early. I don’t want Nora to have to wait for me.

  Instead, I set myself up to wait for her.

  The pants I’m wearing are tight around my thighs, and I idly think I should find a new brand. Every year since I’ve joined the Edge, my legs have gotten a little more muscular. It’s getting to be a real pain in the ass to find pants. Come to think of it, my shirt’s a little tight too.

  Great. Now I’m uncomfortable. It looks like I’m trying too hard to show off my physique, and that wasn’t my intention at all. Unless Nora likes it. In which case it’s fine.

  I realize I’m just psyching myself out. Somehow that knowledge only makes things worse.

  All those feelings melt away when Nora walks into the restaurant. She looks gorgeous in a flowy blue dress, her hair bouncing with every step she takes.

  Her face brightens when she sees me. “Hey,” she said. “Where’s Jared?”

  “Passed out. It’s just you and me,” I say.

  “Is he okay?”

  “He sure as hell won’t think he is when he wakes up sober. I’ll get some food and water in him later.”

  As the hostess is leading us to our table, Nora says, “Does he always drink like that?”

  “He’s young,” I tell her. “Just turned twenty-one a couple months ago. He’s got a lot of partying to get out of his system.”

  We reach our table and I pull her chair out for her, earning me a smile of thanks.

  Once we’re seated, she says, “It doesn’t seem like you’re as into partying as he is.”

  I laugh. “It’s true. He should have brought a friend his age, not an old man like me.”

  “Old man?” she says, looking skeptical. “There’s no way you’re over thirty.”

  “Twenty-eight.”

  “Twenty-eight’s good,” she says, then blushes bright red.

  “Good for what?” After seeing that blush, I can’t help but tease her.

  “Just… good in general. I’ve heard,” she stammers.

  God, she’s adorable. I’m suddenly hit with the desire to kiss her.

  Don’t come on too strong, I tell myself. She’s getting over a nasty breakup.

  “So what’s best here?” I ask, trying to steer the conversation to safer ground.

  “I’m not sure,” she says. “I’m not very adventurous. I just got the chicken caesar salad last night.”

  “That’s okay. I pretty much just get a burger wherever I am.” Honestly, it’s a relief that she’s not a foodie. I’d feel like she was judging me the whole time I was eating. I’m a meat-and-potatoes kind of guy, and I don’t see that ever changing.

  “So, hockey,” she says, and then laughs self-consciously. “I don’t even know enough about it to ask not-stupid questions. When did you start playing?”

  “My dad jokes that I learned to skate before I learned to walk. I grew up not too far north of you, in Minnesota. We take our hockey seriously.”

  “I thought I detected a Minnesotan accent,” she says, smiling.

  I groan. “And here I was, thinking I’d done such a good job getting rid of that.”

  “Most people wouldn’t notice,” she says, “but I like accents.”

  I resist the urge to blurt out, “Do you like hockey players?
”

  Calm down, asshole.

  “And now you’re all the way over in Halifax?”

  I shrug. “You go where you’re recruited.”

  “Do you like it?”

  “I think I was better prepared than someone from, say, Texas would be. I mean, after growing up in Minnesota, Halifax winters are downright balmy. And it’s small, as major cities go. There’s a lot of nature around. It feels like home.”

  “It sounds lovely,” she says with a smile.

  “What about you? Do you like where you are?”

  “Sioux City? Not even a little,” she says, her mouth turning down. “It’s where I grew up, but I’ve always felt like I was born in the wrong place.”

  “Are you stuck there for your job?”

  “That’s the funny thing,” she says. “I’m not. I’m a graphic designer, and I work remotely. I could go wherever I want.”

  “So what’s stopping you?”

  “Up until recently, it was my boyfriend. I guess now it’s inertia.”

  “Well, if you’re ever looking for an island on the eastern seaboard, I’ve got one for you.” Smooth, Ash. Way to not come on too strong.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” she says. She gives me a slight smile. It seems secret, intimate—and gets my hopes up way too high.

  We order and continue to make small talk. I learn that Nora has a ‘big loveable goon of a chocolate lab,’ who’s currently boarding with Nora’s mother. I tell her the story about the time my junior hockey team locked me out of the locker room wearing nothing but a towel (I almost regret telling that one until I see how hard Nora’s laughing).

  It’s the best first date I’ve ever been on, and it’s not even a date.

  When I walk Nora back to her room, I say, “Have you explored the island yet?”

  “I haven’t left the hotel,” she admits.