“But he didn’t intend to hit me,” she says. “Let me do my job.”
I nod, then lean in to whisper in her ear. “I’m going to fuck you so hard later, Little Trouble, for refusing to listen to me. And you’re going to take everything I give you. Understood?”
She shivers, a blush creeping up her cheeks.
“Promise?” she whispers back, her eyes dancing with mischief.
I growl low in my throat. “Oh, you’re in for it now, sweetheart.”
Fuck. I’m going to be hard for the entire event because of her.
She resolves the seating issue, sending glances my way every so often. She’s thinking about what’s going to happen later; I can see it in her eyes.
And I can’t wait.
The wedding ceremony begins. Soft music drifts through the air, a perfect complement to the rhythmic crash of the waves. The bride, Valerie, walks down the aisle in a stunning, off-the-shoulder gown, her veil blowing gently in the sea breeze. The crowd rises to their feet, cameras flashing, tears welling in the eyes of onlookers. It’s a picture-perfect moment—Hawaii at its most beautiful.
But my focus is not on the bride. Cora is standing near the front, her hands clasped, her eyes bright with pride at the wedding she’s meticulously organized. The ocean breeze catches the hem of her dress, lifting it as she watches the bride and groom exchange vows.
And then there’shim.
I spotted him earlier, but now his presence feels more sinister. He’s sitting at one of the tables, pretending to mind his own business, pretending to be just another wedding guest. But his eyes keep tracking her, studying her every move with an intensity that sets off all my internal alarms.
He’s in his mid-thirties, well-dressed but unremarkable. Except for the way his gaze locks onto Cora, following her as she moves through the crowd. It could be innocent. She’s easily the most beautiful woman here, her blonde hair catching the last rays of sunlight, her laugh carrying across the beach. Maybe he’s just fantasizing about fucking her, but my instincts are screaming that there’s more to it than that.
Regardless of the reason, I don’t like him looking at what’s mine.
I snap a quick picture of him with my phone, mentally noting to run a background check later. If there’s any threat, any reason to be suspicious, I’ll find it—and I’ll deal with it.
Twenty-Two
CORA
It’s our last night in Hawaii, and with the wedding festivities finally behind us, I’m determined to make this evening unforgettable. The ceremony was a stunning success, and now I can devote my undivided attention to Ryder.
I clutch the menu, myheart pounding with a mixture of excitement and nerves. The tiki torches flicker, casting dancing shadows across Ryder’s face. His eyes, dark and intense, study me with a mixture of amusement and suspicion.
“Ready for this?” I whisper, a mischievous grin tugging at my lips.
Ryder’s eyes narrow. “Cora,” he says, his voice low and cautious, “what are you up to?”
I ignore his question, burying my nose in the menu. The Hawaiian words swim before my eyes, a jumble of vowels and consonants that seem far more daunting than they did during my hasty Google Translate session this morning.
“You know they have an English menu, right?” Ryder says, reaching across the table to tap the laminated card tucked behind the salt shaker.
I bat his hand away. “Where’s the fun in that, Mr. Stick-in-the-Mud? I’ve been practicing my Hawaiian all week.”
Ryder raises an eyebrow, his expression a mix of amusement and concern. “Practicing? When? I haven’t heard you say a word of Hawaiian this entire trip.”
I tap my temple with a smug grin. “Up here, babe. I’ve got a mind like a steel trap.”
“Uh-huh,” he drawls, unconvinced. “And what exactly have you learned in this secret mental Hawaiian class of yours?”
I puff out my chest. “Enough to order us a romantic dinner. Just you wait and see.”
Ryder leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Alright, Little Trouble. Dazzle me with your linguistic prowess.”
The server approaches, his practiced smile a bit too bright. “Aloha! Are you folks ready to order?”
