“Oh, no,” he said. “No, no, no, no, no.”
She shrugged expansively. “I’m just saying. Kissing isn’t sex.”
“Mads,” he begged. “Please. Can we just…not?”
She sighed heavily. “Can Dingo come back now? Because you’re right, I think I like him better thanyou. You’re a buzzkill.”
“Can’t have a buzzkill without a buzz, love,” he said in his fake Australian accent.
“Whatever,” Maddie said, sinking down in her seat. “Why should I have anything good or nice or happy in my life?”
“I’m not goodornice,” he whispered.
Maybe not. But when he’d kissed her, for the first time in a long time, she’d felt happy. Or at least less relentlessly alone.
Shayla surrendered.
At first, she was a little weirded out—going into that grown-up version of a bouncy tent with the deliberate intention of taking off her clothes and having some happy-fun time with the Navy SEAL. This was a man to whom she’d not so much as spoken two words until last night.
And now she was going to let him plant his face between her legs.
Howdoyou do?
He hadn’t just brought blankets and pillows into her backyard along with his air mattress. He’d brought a hurricane lamp—an electric one that wouldn’t catch fire, but could still be turned down low. He’d also brought condoms and some towels and a bottle of wine. Pinot noir—how did he know? He’d brought a pair of stemless glasses, too, and he poured her one as the romantic light from that lantern played across his handsome face.
“I turned off the gas in both our houses,” he told her as he handed her the glass of wine. “Just to be extra safe. Everything looks good in yours—just a few things broken—a couple framed photos. Books fell out of bookshelves. Nothing big fell over.”
“There’s nothing big to fall over,” she pointed out. She’d purposely gotten rid of anything tall before the move to California. Now all of their bookshelves and cabinets were either built-in or low to the ground. “How about your place?” she asked.
“I had a few expensive casualties,” he told her. “Maddie’s computer was on the kitchen counter. It hit the floor and did not survive.”
“Oh, no.”
“Better hers than yours,” he said.
“I don’t know about that,” she countered. “I’m militant when it comes to backup. You know, I was thinking. About Maddie? That in the morning, we should push. Just a little. See if she’ll take a call—talk to me on the phone.”
Peter nodded. “I also want to touch base with that lawyer—Fiona’s aunt.”
“I thought you did that this afternoon.”
“No,” he said. “I tried, but she wasn’t in—she was at the courthouse. I was going to wait, but then I got the call to go to the base. And then everything took too much time. It’s okay—I seriously doubt she’s going to tell me anything new.”
“I’d like to go with you,” Shayla said. No way was she making thatI’ll go if you wantmistake twice.
He smiled because, like always, he was paying attention. “That’s great,” he said, “because I’d like for you to come, too.” He lifted his wineglass in a toast. “To good communication.”
Shay smiled back at him as they clinked—and the earth shifted again. It was hard to know if that was real or an illusion created from the heat in his eyes. Either way, she felt safe.
He took a sip, so she did, too, and…“Wow, that’s excellent.”
“A reminder that California’s got a lot more going for it than earthquakes and black widow spiders.”
“And crazy people who ride around in their trucks with a bucket of feces to throw at sailors?”
“That was another first for me,” Peter admitted. “My day’s been full of them—some significantly better than others.” He smiled at her, leaning back on his elbow, but then wincing, because, yeah. That was the elbow he’d scraped, saving her from the flying shit-bucket of doom.
“Let me see that,” she said, putting her glass down on the ground beside the air mattress, and he smiled, because yes, again, he knew that she wanted to touch him, and this was an easy way to get that party started. He obediently held out his arm as she scooted closer, letting go of the fleece blanket that he’d draped around her shoulders to keep her warm while the mattress inflated.
