“You read it, didn’t you?”
“The first night you handed it to me. All nineteen pages.”
Her squinting, slack-jawed expression is priceless. She mocks Lady Shiba’s voice. “Traits of a Shiba.”
I tilt my head and smile. “What’s wrong, honey? Not the kind of role-play you had in mind?”
Before she can respond, I lower my sunglasses over my eyes and step past, catching the slight curve in her lips as I do.
Several feet ahead now, I hum the song again—anything to get rid of the impure images canvassing my mind.
Stop thinking about her. No more flirting. No more touching. Focus on the job.Basil Jones is my target, and I already know what happens when I mix work with pleasure.
My heart gets destroyed.
CHAPTER 10
BASIL
“Haveyou let your freak flag fly yet?” Riley asks when I answer the phone.
On the deck, I take in the golden hour’s warm amber hues. At least I can still enjoy this sight, even if the rest of my life is a mess. I can tell I’m on her car’s Bluetooth and that she’s stuffing her face with something. I bet it’s an everything bagel. I miss our bagel, bags, and beer trips. I miss spending time with people who want me around, not people who are forced to be with me. Us talking reminds me of our morning commutes to work—she’dtalk. I needed coffee to deal with her level of energy that early. We celebrated, gossiped, and laughed for an hour daily for months until her first lingerie line catapulted her business and I got promoted to VP at Elixir Wines.
“You’re such a bad influence,” I tease. I get it. Riley’s attempting to distract me from ruminating, but Caroline and I hadonenight together, that’s all. Grant it, the sex was incredible, but what’s the point in convoluting a situation that’s already complicated? I sure as hell don’t want another relationship.
“Seriously. I always say every woman’s entitled to two things in life: toe-curling pleasure and one trashy TV show obsession.”
“Does my life count as a trashy TV show?” I laugh, only partially joking.
“You’re into her…aren’t you?” There’s a slow inflection in Riley’s question. “Work and this one relationship consumed your twenties. No one is judging here if you need the distraction.”
“The only thing I’m into is getting my life back on track. She’s just…”
I think for a moment before continuing. Caroline’s just…slowly consuming every thought I have? She’s just gorgeous? Intelligent? Charming and oddly observant?
I return to the conversation. “She’s just playing the part. Trust me, nothing will happen. The last thing on my mind is consummating my fake marriage.”
“I mean, you two already startedsomething. Maybe this is the universe handing you a divine sign…or at minimum, more orgasms. You’re on the path to healing—nothing a little island fling can’t help.”
It feels like the entire island can hear our conversation. I twist around, hand covering my phone, and peer through the sliding doors. I’m relieved to discover no movement inside the villa.
I attempt to sort out my situation out loud. “First the wedding, then Caroline and I happened…then she happenedagain,MockHoneymoon Edition. My client seems to love her. And to make matters worse, the Wicked Bitch of the West, Victoria Miller, is here.” I exhale a breath. “Let’s revisit the fact that I haven’t swam or sunbathed or read a book once. It should be a crime, especially when I’m staying this close to the beach.”
“Speaking of clients, my 8 a.m. appointment is standing in front of my door.”
My thoughts wander as she talks with someone else. What would happen if I let myself enjoy this time with Caroline? Maybe Riley’s right. I have a little over a week left on the island.
“Sorry, Basil.” I tune back in when I hear her rustle her phone against her face. “My advice? Have fun. Just don’t fall in love.”
The call ends before I get my last words out:I won’t.
CHAPTER 11
CAROLINE
I still can’t believeI’m working a surveillance case with my target within arm’s reach, and now we’re participating in the couples’ Olympics. I’m trapped but can’t deny my intrigue toward her.
Like yesterday, a slight breeze is combating the afternoon’s blazing heat, making it perfect for outdoor activities. Depending on the person, I guess. Mamma would have refused to be out longer than an hour, calling today, “Sticky-shorts hot.” Regardless, I’m the type of person who’s rarely in the mood to go to an event but has fun once I’m there. I wonder if this tournament will be the same.
