“We won’t get into what she said,” Brock continued, undeterred. “But the next week, this guy tells our youth leader he’s considering a vow of celibacy. Said he wanted to follow in Paul’s footsteps.”
Bryce buried his face in both hands. “You promised never to bring that up again.”
Beth burst out laughing. “Wait—you’re telling me he hasn’talways been smooth?”
“Nahhh, he hasn’t always been a silver-tongued devil…” Brock shot her a wink.
“Really? Because I have it on good authority, he’s been a flirt since puberty.”
“He’s tried since puberty,” Brock said. “But let’s just say, his first few crushes ended more like a wipeout in ankle breakers than a clean ride to shore.”
Beth laughed—even if the surfing metaphor was totally lost on her.
Brock looked at the couple and really saw them—saw the fatigue in Beth’s eyes, the tension still lingering in Bryce’s posture. Sensitive and intuitive, he could feel the emotional undertow threatening to pull them under. The rip current was just beneath the surface.
“As much as I’m looking forward to getting to know you, B-Man—” Beth mouthed “B-Man?” at Bryce with a grin. “—told me you had a righteous day at work, and clearly, you two need a beat. I’m gonna dip out and grab some dinner. Should be gone a couple hours. That enough time for you two?” He winked at Beth, making her blush and Bryce laugh.
“If there’s a tie on the elevator, don’t bother coming up,” Bryce called after him.
Beth gasped, scandalized. “You did not just say that! Now he’s going to think we’re... you know...” she trailed off, mortified.
“Lizzy,” Bryce said, chuckling, “as far as he knows, we’renewlyweds. He’s going to think ‘you know’ no matter what.”
Searching for a safer topic, Beth spotted the flowers on the counter. “Those are pretty. Thank you.”
“I’d say you’re welcome, but…” Bryce followed her gaze. “They’re not from me. Brock brought them. Said you should have something decent to look at, since you’re stuck living with me.” He paused. “He’s always been the charmer of the family.”
Beth smiled, heart loosening a little. “So, you got the looks, and he got the charm?”
Her voice carried a flirty tone—unfamiliar on her tongue. It might’ve been the first real flirt she’d ever pulled off.
Bryce’s brow lifted, but his voice came low, hesitant. “You really think I’m better looking?”
She caught something beneath the question—something that didn’t belong to vanity. Longing. Insecurity. Like he needed the answer to be more than surface-level.
She kept it light, though her chest ached with the weight of all the unspoken things between them. She arched a brow. “Fishing for a compliment, Doctor Handsome?”
He didn’t reply, but his eyes… they said everything. A flicker of something raw and unguarded.
Beth stepped closer, her fingers tracing the prominent vein on his forearm—unaware that she was leaving a trail of fire behind. She wasn’t used to this. She didn’t know where this courage came from, only that it was here, pulsing beneath her skin like something new and delicate and beautiful. Maybe she was tired of being afraid. Maybe she wanted to know what it feltlike to touch him first.
She laced her fingers through his and tugged him gently down to her. Then, with a breathless kind of certainty, rose onto her toes and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.
Bryce inhaled sharply, like her touch had knocked the air right out of him.
“Yes,” she whispered. “You’re more attractive than your brother. And after a month of being married to you? I know you’re the whole package—looks and charm…”
Her gaze dipped, sliding slowly down his chest and back up again, deliberate and teasing. “The whole package.”
She leaned in, close enough he could probably taste her breath, her fingers toying with the buttons on his shirt. Rising onto her toes again, she brushed a kiss just below his earlobe, lips barely grazing skin as she whispered, voice thick with playful heat, “Do you know what I want more than anything right now…”
He made some half-formed sound in response—maybe her name, maybe a question.
Beth grinned against his jaw, her palms flattening over his chest. And then—abruptly—she shoved him backward.
Bryce stumbled a step.
She stood tall, arms crossed, hip popped to the side like she was strutting a red carpet in couture—not barefoot in his sweats.
