Cocktail in Hand: The Beach Series, #2

By Lexy Timms

I have mixed drinks about feelings…

 

Life sucks big time for four friends who are new to this crazy thing called adulthood.

Christine hates her job, Ginny doesn't like grad school, Mandy's had one too many breakups, and Leyla's struggling to come out on top as a single parent.

 

What they all need is a month of zero responsibility in a beautiful little beach house right on the ocean. Luckily, Ginny's parents have one they're offering, so the girls converge for a summer of fun and romance on the Virginia shore.

 

The vacation starts out great, but the boyfriend drama doesn't stop at the door. It follows them all the way to their little hideout, and familiar conflicts threaten to drown out their good times.

 

The problem is: guys are hot. Whether they come with strings attached or not, there's no denying the attraction.

 

Will Leyla hook up with Christine's ex?

Can Ginny keep her hands off the guy at the bar?

And is Mandy's new fling different enough from all the others, or will this one break her heart again?

 

The girls are back for another summer of fun and sex down at the shore. It's the perfect destination for a bit of adult entertainment.

 

The Beach Series

• Good Vibes
• Cocktail in Hand
• Sunny Side Up
• Paradise Found

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dark Shadow Publishing
• Release date: Jun 15, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223063896

Lexy Timms

"Love should be something that lasts forever, not is lost forever."  Visit USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR, LEXY TIMMS https://www.facebook.com/SavingForever *Please feel free to connect with me and share your comments. I love connecting with my readers.* Sign up for news and updates and freebies - I like spoiling my readers! http://eepurl.com/9i0vD website: www.lexytimms.com Dealing in Antique Jewelry and hanging out with her awesome hubby and three kids, Lexy Timms loves writing in her free time.  MANAGING THE BOSSES is a bestselling 10-part series dipping into the lives of Alex Reid and Jamie Connors. Can a secretary really fall for her billionaire boss?

Book preview

The Beach Series

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Good Vibes

Cocktail in Hand

Sunny Side Up

Paradise Found

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Cocktail in Hand Blurb

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I HAVE MIXED DRINKS about feelings...

Life sucks big time for four friends who are new to this crazy thing called adulthood.

Christine hates her job, Ginny doesn’t like grad school, Mandy’s had one too many breakups, and Leyla’s struggling to come out on top as a single parent.

What they all need is a month of zero responsibility in a beautiful little beach house right on the ocean. Luckily, Ginny’s parents have one they’re offering, so the girls converge for a summer of fun and romance on the Virginia shore.

The vacation starts out great, but the boyfriend drama doesn’t stop at the door. It follows them all the way to their little hideout, and familiar conflicts threaten to drown out their good times.

The problem is: guys are hot. Whether they come with strings attached or not, there’s no denying the attraction.

Will Leyla hook up with Christine’s ex?

Can Ginny keep her hands off the guy at the bar?

And is Mandy’s new fling different enough from all the others, or will this one break her heart again?

The girls are back for another summer of fun and sex down at the shore. It’s the perfect destination for a bit of adult entertainment.

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Contents

The Beach Series

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Cocktail in Hand Blurb

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Epilogue

The Beach Series

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Chapter 1

Leyla

I want my toes in the sand and a cocktail in my hand...

THE KEY TO THE BEACH house was supposed to be in a lockbox beneath the doorknob. My friend Ginny had given me the code while we were planning our summer vacation, and after the drive, I was looking forward to getting inside and sitting down.

Of course, with a three-month-old baby in tow, I knew I wouldn’t be resting for long. Luckily, Jolie slept through most of the ride, but that probably meant she would wake up soon demanding to be fed.

I had my arms full with the baby carrier and my diaper bag. It was huge and full of things I didn’t even remember packing. I felt like Mary Poppins every time I reached into it to grab a bottle or a stuffed animal. I didn’t know how most moms did it until the rational part of my brain reasoned that most of them probably felt as harried as I did.

Setting Jolie down on the porch, I keyed the code into the lock box. It failed to open, and I had a moment of panic, thinking I would be locked outside until my friends arrived. Closing my eyes, I found my calm. Mechanical things could sense when you were upset, and they refused to cooperate until you calmed down. Magical thinking, maybe, but it seemed to hold true no matter what device I attempted to use.

Once I was Zen, I tried the code again, and it worked. The lockbox opened, and four keys tumbled out. There was one for each of us, just like there had been the previous four summers. I grabbed them all and shut the box again. Sticking the key into the lock, I turned the door and was granted entrance into the homey little cottage that Ginny’s parents owned.

Inside, the light was a little dimmer and the sounds of the ocean muted. It was right on the beach with a fantastic view of the ocean out a set of sliding glass doors in the back. I put the keys on the kitchen island and went back to fetch my baby.

She was still asleep, so I left the carrier on the coffee table and made two trips to the car to get all our luggage. It was amazing how much crap I needed to cart around to take care of one small baby. There was the playpen which would double as a crib, two massive boxes of diapers, the diaper genie, the changing pad, an assortment of toys that she wasn’t quite old enough to appreciate, a set of bottles, things to clean the bottles with, and an entire suitcase of baby clothes. For myself, I only packed a few essentials, thinking I could do laundry when I ran out of clean clothing.

Having hauled the lion’s share of the equipment into the house, I claimed one of the rooms on the lower level as my own. It was the one that Christine had the previous year, but I knew she wouldn’t mind. The last thing I wanted was to be on the second floor and have to walk up and down stairs in the middle of the night.

It took me nearly twenty minutes to set up the playpen. Although the packaging said that it was easy and would just pop open, I found that there were supports I needed to unfold to make sure the structure was sound.

I heard little Jolie crying by the time I was done and knew my brief respite was over. Still, feeding the baby meant I could sit down, and that was something I looked forward to. I unstrapped her from the car carrier and walked over to the couch.

Kicking my shoes off, I collapsed into the wicker seat and pulled up my shirt. Guiding Jolie to my breast, I allowed her to latch on and took a few precious moments to imagine what this summer was going to be like.

Part of me worried about bringing a baby into the mix. My friends and I had just graduated from college a year ago. The last summer was full of drunken debauchery, and I knew that most of the girls looked forward to more of the same. Was I going to be bringing everyone down with my midnight feedings and constant attention to the baby? Should I have just stayed home and allowed them to party without me? I needed this vacation too, but it was possible I was being selfish.

I’d left the door open behind me, and my roommate, Christine, walked in. She had two suitcases with her, but none of the childcare items that I was forced to cart around. Christine was a godsend, a lifeboat in my chaotic postpartum world. She helped me take care of Jolie without complaining, even though she spent her days chasing after other people’s kids at an elementary school.

Sorry for being late, she said.

You don’t have to apologize, I said.

I stopped for gas, she continued, pretending that she didn’t hear me. And to pick up a few things for the fridge.

I got the playpen set up, I informed her. And I took your old room.

I’ll take the one next to you, she said, assuming rightly that I had claimed one of the rooms on the ground floor. I’m sure Ginny won’t mind.

That would be nice, I replied. Having Christine so close would help me avoid asking either Ginny or Mandy for help. While I was sure they would be excited to meet Jolie, I didn’t think that either of them would want to interrupt their beauty sleep for baby duty. Christine was already familiar with the rigors of early parenting, so it wouldn’t be that much of an imposition.

Christine dragged her suitcases into the hallway and disappeared, leaving me and Jolie alone again temporarily. The baby at my breast felt weird, and I didn’t think I would ever get used to it. She didn’t have teeth, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t chomp down occasionally, sending sparks of pain dancing through my chest.

When she finished with one breast, I moved her to the next, and she sucked happily. It wasn’t long before the door opened again, revealing Ginny, the owner of the beach house. I knew I should get up to greet her, but I was kind of locked into place. I raised a hand in greeting, careful not to disturb the child.

Hi! Ginny said loudly.

I winced. I was hoping to finish feeding, then change the baby and see if I could get her to sleep again. At her age, all she did was eat, poop, and sleep. Sometimes it was easy to get her to go right back to sleep, and sometimes it was impossible. I wasn’t entirely sure what I did or didn’t do to affect the outcome, but it seemed like momentum was an important consideration. Loud noises were jarring and unlikely to foster drowsiness.

Oh, sorry, Ginny whispered, crouching down as if the baby could see her.

She tiptoed over to me and kissed the top of my head. It was the best we could do under the circumstances. Christine came out of the bedroom and flew into Ginny’s arms. The two of them gave each other a proper hug, laughing and trying their best to be quiet.

Again, I thought it might have been better if I’d stayed home and given my friends the opportunity to catch up in private. What would their parties be like if they had to be quiet the moment they walked in the door? Feeling sorry for myself, I hardly noticed when Jolie released my nipple and began fussing.

She needs to be burped, Christine said, more tuned into my child than I gave her credit for.

I eased the infant up over one shoulder and patted her back. After a moment, she favored me with a loud belch. Ginny laughed, enchanted by the smallest of gestures, and held her hands out expectantly. I passed Jolie over, fussing a bit until I was sure that Ginny was holding her right.

Be careful, I said. She just ate, and she might spit up.

These are traveling clothes, Ginny replied, too engrossed in Jolie’s little features to care. Hello. Hello there, she crooned.

Jolie wiggled, not at all comfortable in the arms of a stranger.

Why don’t you grab a shower or have something to eat? Christine suggested. She was beyond amazing when it came to reminding me to take care of myself.

I’m okay, I said, dismissing her concern.

The door opened for a fourth and final time, and Mandy, our resident athlete, came bounding in. She was revved up from her time behind the wheel and excited to arrive. She threw a gym bag down on the floor and rushed over to greet us. Before I could stop her, she squished my baby between two chests as she gave Ginny a one-armed hug.

Is this the little guy? she asked, pulling back to poke at Jolie’s nose.

This is Jolie, I responded, apprehensive but trying not to appear so.

She looks just like you, Mandy declared.

I’m so glad you could make it! Ginny said, handing Jolie off to me so that she could pay more attention to her friend.

Christine hovered, but I shook my head. I still had to change Jolie and see if I could get her to go down for a nap. After all the excitement, it was probably a pipe dream, but I was going to try.

I left my friends in the living room and walked back to my bedroom. Without a proper changing table, I lay the pad on the bed. Jolie was fussing, but she wasn’t screaming, so I supposed that was a bonus. I went through the motions to change her diaper, but with the diaper genie not set up yet, I didn’t have anywhere to put the dirty one. If I put it on the floor, I would be likely to forget it or step on it. If I tried to put it on the dresser, I would have to leave Jolie alone on the bed for a second. The best of three untenable solutions was to leave it on the bed and come back for it later. Having a baby was disgusting sometimes; there was no way to sugarcoat it.

I transferred Jolie to the playpen, laying her in the center on her back. She looked peaceful enough for me to wander away, so I grabbed the fancy plastic trashcan and inserted a new roll of plastic into it. Finally, I got the thing to work and jammed the dirty diaper down into its maw. With a few twists, I packed it away safely, hoping that it wouldn’t smell up the room.

From outside, I could hear my friends catching up. They were having such a good time, and there I was stuck in my room all alone. Jolie began to wail, so I picked her up again. She quieted down almost immediately, but only after she made her point. It was no good trying to get her to sleep on her own. I was her mother, and it was my job to cater to her every whim.

Feeling sad, I began to wander around the little room. My footsteps rocked her to sleep, and finally I was able to relax. But then came the next arduous challenge. Did I dare try to lay her back down in the playpen and risk her waking up again? Or should I confine myself to pacing a solitary room while my friends were out there having fun?

It was a torturous question, and the lack of sleep coupled with the long drive didn’t help. If only I could have one solid night with no interruptions, I was sure I could return to my baby happy and ready to please. If only I could be a free woman one last time, I would gladly take up the job of mother for the rest of my life. But that was too good to be true, and I felt guilty for even having the thought. No, I should be happy that my baby was healthy and on her way to a life full of promise. I decided I wouldn’t put her down and just kept walking, no matter how much I wanted to take a break.

Chapter 2

Mandy

LEYLA DISAPPEARED, but I hardly noticed. I was too excited to reconnect with all four of them. I assumed that she would return as soon as she got the baby sorted out. In the meantime, there was plenty to catch up on with Chris and Ginny.

How was the drive? Chris asked.

Fantastic, I responded. It was a twelve-hour drive, but I spent the night in a hotel. They had a tiny little workout room with two treadmills and a couple of hand weights.

Ginny and Chris cross-checked each other, and I knew what they were thinking. Of course Mandy would report on the hotel gym. They had me pegged, but I didn’t care. Being fit was important to me, and I wasn’t going to let a day go by without getting in some form of exercise.

How was yours? I asked to be polite.

Fine, Chris responded. I got some sodas and some bottled water.

Who drinks sodas anymore? I asked, scorning the calorie-filled drinks as old news.

I’ll have one, Ginny said.

I went to the fridge and grabbed a water, letting Ginny get her own soft drink. I notice there’s no beer or wine.

We can get that later, Chris said.

You’re not thinking straight, I accused. This is our last summer vacation; we have to do things right.

We said that about our last vacation, remember? Ginny replied, not bothering to get a can. I knew she didn’t really want a soda; she was just being polite.

You all are in luck, I said, running back out to the car. I had a suspicion that I would have to be the one to bring the party. I grabbed a twelve-pack of Corona from the back seat and brought them in. Nothing says beach vibes like a Corona.

Do you have lime? Ginny asked, getting excited.

I hunted around in my gym bag until I found them, a mesh bag full of fresh limes. I came prepared.

Hook me up! Chris shouted before realizing that there was a baby in the next room. Hook me up, she said again, softer.

I opened three bottles and sliced a lime, sticking a wedge into each bottle. Is Leyla drinking now?

No, Chris answered, helping herself to a beverage. She’s breastfeeding.

I bet she’s an amazing mom, I declared.

She is, Chris agreed.

Tell me again why you can’t stay the entire month, Ginny asked, reaching for a beer.

I pushed my lime down into the neck of the bottle before taking a sip. It was good going down. I loved fitness, but I also loved alcohol. The two were a perfect pair so long as you didn’t have to drive anywhere. I’d been sober for the entire trip, and when the amber liquid hit, it tasted like freedom.

I have to work, I said, not wanting to dwell.

I had a great job at a rec center where I got to work out every day. Not only did I get a free gym membership, but my job itself was active. I taught classes for seniors, kids, and adults, and each one had something going for it. With the adults, I could work up a sweat. With the seniors, I got to be cheerleader for some old ladies who were still waking up every morning to get their exercise. Kids were a little bit harder, but they were so damned cute, their interruptions were tolerable.

I have work too, Chris said.

You’re a teacher, I reminded her. You have the summer off.

True, she agreed.

How’s school? I asked Ginny.