“On the board. Then, maybe later . . .”
I nod, my lips curving into a smile. The island air must be affecting my brain. I’m wanting things that I’m sure to regret once we get back to the States. But until then, I’m going to enjoy the ride he’s taking me on.
On the next wave, I finally get up onto my knees, cruising back to the beach. Luke shows off his skills on the board, and I love watching him. He’s clearly obsessed with the water. His body naturally glides over it, every muscle in his torso tense and defined with the effort.
We’re on island time, living in a bubble of flirtation, lingering hands, and fuzzy feelings.
Things might go back to the way they were when we get back to Dallas. He probably won’t keep kissing me like this when I’m sitting outside his office, answering the phones and getting his coffee. My heart feels heavy.
Don’t think about it.
We return the surfboards mid-afternoon, exhausted and hungry. His arm curls around me as we walk back, wrapped in resort towels. We cuddle on the deck, letting the sun dry us, kissing and touching each other’s warm skin. It gets hotter every second. I feel like the inevitable has to happen tonight...if he doesn’t get in a drunken fight again.
I desperately want to ask him about it, but he’s still my boss. The invisible wall separating us has collapsed, but I somehow know that it’s a temporary thing. He’s not mine.
He orders us room service, complete with a bottle of chardonnay. The lobster melts in my mouth, butter bursting on my tongue. I’d be enormous if I ate food this good all the time.How does he stay so fit?
“What time is the ceremony?”
He sits up, focusing his eyes on the exposed skin on my stomach, tracing the string of my bathing suit.
“The jet is fueled up and ready to go.”
My eyes jump up to his.
“We aren’t going?”
“You think they want me there after last night?”
I hesitate, unsure of how to answer. He did cause an enormous scene, and I’ll bet Garrison’s face looks almost as bad as Luke’s.
But if I had a brother and he didn’t come to my wedding, I’d be devastated.
“I think . . . Fallon will be crushed if you aren’t there.”
He looks up at me, fingers still igniting sparks on my skin, trailing around to the top of my hips.
“She might not forgive me for this.” His voice is low, barely audible.
There’s something unbelievably sexy about a strong man showing any sign of weakness. The tenderness of his emotional vulnerability does me in.
Oh shit, I am falling hard for this guy.
I take a deep breath, trying to shove down the unexpected emotions inside of me.
“She loves you. She’ll forgive you.”
My hand reaches out to take his, pulling his fingers up so I can gently kiss the cuts on his scarred knuckles. He watches me, chest rising and falling. We’re suspended in a moment of fantasy. It’s just us, the sound of the waves crashing and the sexual tension we’ve carried here from the fifty-sixth floor.
The sun is beginning to make its descent to the west side of the island.
“Well, if we’re going...you have about half an hour to get ready.”
“What? I have half an hour to get ready for the wedding of a supermodel?!”
I jump up, rushing inside to shower. The sand in my hair has to go. I shampoo as quickly as I can before scrubbing all the crevices with soap. My shave from yesterday will have to do. I blow-dry my hair about seventy-five percent before slapping some makeup on my face. Thankfully, I do the same routine every day, so it doesn’t take too long.
“This is horrible. Bleh. Why me?”
