"Well, that looks sexy," I said. "If that's your goal, mission accomplished."
Whitney's dimple showed in her cheek as she smiled at me. "I'll take it!" She bounced over to the clerk and added it to the growing pile. I hoped Winkler had as hefty a bank account as I imagined he might, he was going to need it. Whitney also picked out two pairs of panties that matched the leopard-print bra before turning to other colors. She spent fifteen hundred dollars on underwear in the first store alone.
Sam ran the bags out to the truck while Whitney and I ventured into the mall. Next came a small, exclusive dress shop where Whitney tried on dress after dress and then slacks and pretty blouses, most of which were silks or other expensive fabrics.
"I really want to look good tomorrow night when we go out," she dimpled again. I didn't ask her where she was going, I really didn't want to know. Wherever it was, it meant that Gavin and I got the night off to do as we pleased and I was looking forward to it. I'd already thought about climbing onto the roof of the beach house just to sit up there and watch the waters of the gulf. I'd only been to the beach twice before in my entire life and I'd never gotten to stay on the beach. Those hotels and condos were just too expensive for Don and me to afford.
Whitney spent another two thousand in the dress shop before going to look for shoes and handbags. An exclusive handbag shop got twelve hundred for two purses. The least expensive thing she bought was a pair of running shoes. We found heels, flats, sandals and flip-flops in Dillards on our way out. I could almost hear Winkler's credit card weeping pitifully from the abuse.
Whitney was hungry afterward, so we stopped at a seafood restaurant on the other side of the highway. She and Sam both ate like there was no tomorrow. I had no idea how she kept her pretty figure; they had appetizers, salads and three entrees between them. Whitney must have the metabolism of a body-builder, I mused while sipping my wine and watching the two of them eat and tease each other.
"Texas A&M, Corpus, is not the University of Texas," Whitney poked at Sam, who grinned and tried to tickle her. "I go to the University of Texas."
"Where they don't know a damn thing about agriculture," he shot back, tussling a little with her. "My dad owns most of the land south of here and we supply quite a bit of the U.S. with cotton and spinach," he grinned. "Come on, tell me you hate spinach." Whitney giggled as he successfully tickled her ribs.
"I hate spinach," she said, sitting up and straightening her long black hair. Sam laughed.
"We also grow avocados," Sam went on. "Tell me you don't like guacamole."
"I love guacamole," she offered a very pretty smile.
"See, there is something to love about me," he said.
Sam drove us home after that. Whitney was happily showing Winkler her purchases once we were inside the beach house. Except for the underwear, that is. That gave me the opportunity to slip out of the house. After changing into my normal uniform of jeans and athletic shoes, I took up my duty as guard. "Have fun?" Gavin grumbled as I passed him on my counter-clockwise walk around the perimeter.
"You have no idea," I rolled my eyes a little. He almost smiled. A good friend would have heard the tale of the bras and underwear, but Gavin wasn't a good friend. I didn't know what he was, truthfully, running hot and cold most of the time. He seldom showed any emotion, watching the rest of us covertly, at times. I didn't know what to make of that. As usual, I had to force Gavin out of my thoughts—that street went nowhere. While I worked my shift that night, I wondered if Winkler knew about the attraction between his sister and Sam. It was probably none of my business anyway, so I shrugged it off.
The following night off wasn't all mine to do as I pleased, I discovered. Winkler left a list of things to pick up at the grocery store in nearby Port Aransas, and the inside of the beach house looked like a hurricane had come through. The trip to the store came first, and (no surprise) the list was filled with snacks, junk food and sodas. Just as a practical joke, I threw in a couple bags of salad, fruit juice, bananas and apples, plus a few gourmet cheeses. I used to love Gruyere. A wedge went into the shopping cart. I also picked up ingredients to bake oatmeal cookies. At least those cookies had fiber in them.
I baked cookies later while I cleaned up the kitchen. With no cleaning staff in residence, things inside the beach house went downhill as quickly as a loaded truck with no brakes. It was a beautiful kitchen, too, with granite countertops and island along with a very nice cooktop and double ovens. The cookies were done in no time. I let them cool before piling them on a platter and covering them with plastic wrap so the others would see what they were.
The kitchen was as clean as I could make it before starting on the living area and media room. There was popcorn between the sofa cushions, so I vacuumed the whole thing out. The rings on the glass coffee table were wiped off and I even dusted a little. No way was I touching the bedrooms, though. I figured those were in an even bigger mess. I did clean the main bathroom. It needed it already; it smelled like men.
Then I went to do my roof sitting. The peak of the roof was a good place to settle and watch a full moon rise over the gulf waters. The light cast a wide path over the ocean, which twinkled with the constant movement of the water. The sky above me was a deep, clear blue that nearly sparkled with crispness. Gavin didn't make a sound as he climbed onto the roof, sitting down about a foot away from me. My knees were drawn up to my chin while I sat there, my arms hugging my legs. Gavin didn't say anything as he settled nearby.
"Bored?" I finally asked to break the silence.
"Occasionally," he said. "Not now."
"I came up to watch the moon over the water," I said.
"I came up to watch, too."
My chin was now resting on my knees as I watched the water. Gavin had unwittingly disturbed my peace when he climbed up to join me. Now, instead of the soothing sound of the surf, Gavin's scent hung thick in the air. That unsettled me and eventually brought me to my feet. I dusted the back of my jeans and walked over to the edge of the roof, climbing down onto the frame of the wooden deck. That's how I'd climbed up to start with, so I decided to go down the same way. Gavin didn't follow.
* * *
"Those cookies were so good, I think Winkler ate half of them," Davis told me the following evening. "Does this mean you know how to cook? I mean for real?"
"Yeah, I know how to cook for real," I said. "Why?"
"Well, a meal might not go amiss, now and then," Davis was almost begging. "You know what a big deal it is for all of us to go out and eat."