This man.
This life she’d never dared to dream for herself.
It was hers.
Completely, irrevocably, wonderfully hers.
And as Justin whispered her name like a promise, Suzette knew — with a clarity that felt woven into her bones — that whatever tomorrow brought, they would face it together.
Her heart whispered back the truth she finally believed.
Forever starts now.
21
Suzette hadn’t expected the ache to hit quite so quickly. He’d only been gone mere hours, just it felt like forever. He’d already stretched his stay by a full day, insisting on shuffling his Monday meetings in Los Angeles to allow for a mid-morning arrival. She could still taste saltwater and laughter from their earlier kayak. Still feel the heat of his mouth against hers under the shower afterward where, no, they had not saved water. Her body was warm and languid from him; her heart was another matter entirely. It missed him dreadfully.
So she kept herself busy. Chatting idly with guests as they emerged from the water. Straightening some beach loungers that didn’t need straightening. Pretending she wasn’t dying on the inside.
There were still a few reporters lurking around the hotel and in town, but after she and Justin had given a joint interview right here on the beach, most had packed up and left. As for the remaining stragglers … well, Anders and his team had done a fine job of keeping them at a distance. She was still hyperaware that every move she made was probably being recorded throughsome telescopic camera lens, and the last thing she needed was to be caught in tears.
She was on her way back to the patio when she noticed the part-time server hovering near the steps — eyes wide, expression tight. Trouble. Suzette’s pulse ticked up.
“Everything okay?” Suzette asked.
The young girl bit her lip. “Um … could you come here, please? Table nine. They’re … asking for you.”
As they walked, Suzette braced herself for another entitled holidaymaker.
It took a few beats to recognize the woman she hadn’t seen in over twenty years.
Daleen.
She had not aged well. The thought flashed through Suzette’s mind before she could stop it, and she immediately scolded herself for the pettiness.
The once-perfect hair now a shade too blond, skin lined and leathery from a lifetime of sunbeds and self-righteousness. And, of course, she wasn’t alone. Two women flanked her, judgment simmering in their expressions. Daleen’s lips curled. “Well, well. And there is our sweet, innocent Suzette.”
Suzette’s heart thudded, a startled, instinctive jolt. Of course it would happen today — when she was already missing Justin so acutely her chest felt hollow. She swallowed, straightened, and stepped closer. “Daleen,” she said, cool and polite. “I believe you asked for me.”
Daleen lifted her chin, satisfaction glinting in her eyes. “Indeed. Actually, I need to speak to the poor man you’ve hoodwinked into thinking you’re someone special.”
The words landed like small, sharp stones against Suzette’s ribs.
“He deserves to know who you really are,” Daleen continued, her voice loud enough for nearby tables to hear. “InnocentSuzette, who begged on street corners.” She reached into her handbag and produced a dog-eared photograph, waving it like a victory flag. “And here’s proof for anyone who doubts me.”
A cold, sinking dread uncoiled inside Suzette’s stomach.
This was it. Her past exposed.
Daleen was far from finished. “Look at you, acting holier than thou because you managed to snag yourself a famous man.” She leaned back in her chair, folding her arms with theatrical disdain, chin angled high. “Tell me, Suzette … how did you land JK Kenzie? Guess you seduced him with those Jezebel wiles. The same ones you tried on my husband.”
Her humiliation was immediate, visceral.
Earth, swallow me. Now.
Suzette saw the headlines flash through her mind as if an editor were already assembling tomorrow’s scandal sheet: “Hollywood A-Lister’s New Girlfriend Has Scandalous Past.”
Chairs scraped. Conversations stalled. And from the corner of her eye, she caught the unmistakable sight of cell phones rising, angling toward her like a forest of accusing eyes.
