“Only the ones who wake me up at the crack of dawn.”
This time, he does laugh when I reach over to smack his shoulder. “Just you wait, you’re going to bite your tongue when you see the view on top of the dunes.”
He makes a noncommittal sound that speaks more of his skepticism, which only makes me want to prove him wrong.
Two hours later, I’m practically buzzing with excitement as I finally pull into the parking lot. I’ve been dreaming of this moment for months, and I bet my viewers are just as excited for the videos I intend to film. I glance over at Conor, trying to gauge his reaction, but he seems…unmoved by the stunning view of the lake. I shake my head as I step out of the van, smiling to myself. I guess he’s the “need to see it to believe it” kind of guy.
I take in a deep breath of the fresh, clean air, a sense of calm settling in. “Let’s go see the dunes,” I call out to my bodyguard, who seems set on taking forever to get out of the van. Christ, he’s such an old man. I mean, sure, he’s thirty-two, but I don’t think he stopped being active at his age. “I’m leaving you behind if you don’t hurry.”
I don’t turn around to see if he follows when I start walking toward the base of the Dune Climb. I smile when I spot kids already scrambling up the sandy slope, their laughter echoing in the air.
“This is your idea of fun?” The grumpy voice from behind me makes me want to scowl, but I rein it in. I’m not about to let this grump ruin this for me.
“And I guess your idea of fun is spending your evening at some expensive, dim-lit bar, nursing a glass of whiskey and smoking a cigar?”
“Something like that—minus the cigar. Bad for your lungs.”
I roll my eyes as I step out of my sneakers, groaning at the warm sand beneath my feet. “Let’s go!” I pick up my shoes and turn toward Conor, grabbing his wrist with my free hand and pulling him behind me. I let go when we start climbing, laughing as the sand gives way with each step. I try to film everything as we head up, but I find myself giggling and no doubt ruining the footage. I stop to get hold of myself, and when I turn around to glance at Conor, I blink in surprise when I find him staring at me.There’s an odd look in his eyes that makes my skin tingle.
Are bodyguards supposed to look at their clients that way? I know for sure that Amy never did. At least not as intensely as Conor is watching me.
I clear my throat and turn back around, confused by the sudden shift between us as I get back to climbing and filming.
I reach the crest of the dune before him, panting. When I turn around, my breath catches in my throat. This view…I’ve seen it in pictures before, but none of them capture the magic that this park provides.
I stand, completely mesmerized by the scene before me. The water, a breathtaking turquoise, stretches out to the horizon, blending seamlessly with the sky. The dune itself is massive—one great sandy slope that plunges straight down, the kind of hill that makes your legs ache just looking at it. I catch the gentle lapping of the waves against the shore, and I’m in awe, feeling completely small and insignificant in the face of such beauty.
“You weren’t kidding,” Conor mutters when he stops next to me.
Neither one of us speaks for the next twenty minutes as we stare at the world so different from the one we come from. There’s noise and laughter from the other tourists, but it serves as a backdrop to what is already a perfect scene.
Someone’s loud laughter pulls me from the view, and I look down to see a couple climbing down, giggling and trying to hold each other up so they don’t roll down. They’re lost in a world of their own, and I’m surprised by the tug of longing in my chest.
I quickly look away before I get any crazier thoughts. “Going down looks fun, too,” I say, turning toward Conor. “Can you go ahead of me and record me running down the dune?”
“I’m your bodyguard—not your videographer,” he grumbles.
I roll my eyes at him. “We’re miles away from New York. I don’t need protection here.” I turn and wave to point out that the majority of people here are couples and kids. “Besides, I’m running toward you. If I see someone coming, I’ll just run faster in your direction.”
“Arianna—”
“Go,” I say, slapping my phone against his chest and nudging him down the dune. “Make sure to get a good shot of me, okay?”
He grumbles some more, but I watch him head down, occasionally glancing back at me. I laugh when he nearly bumps into some teen girls posing for pictures. They seem annoyed until they turn and see that stupidly handsome face. Now, it’s them apologizing to him, blushing and giggling as he walks away.
He makes it to the bottom without incident, and I wait until he starts filming to start my descent. The slope is steeper than it looks, and within seconds, I realize I’ve made a mistake. The sand doesn’t slow me down—it catches my feet, throws off my balance. I’m running faster than my legs can keep up, gravity pulling my upper body forward while my feet sink and drag. I don’t stop, not until I get closer and the rare sight of Conor smiling and laughing distracts me.
I lose my footing and start to stumble-run, quickly losing control of my own body, and then I’m flying at him. His hands come out to catch me, but the momentum sends us both rolling in the sand. He cradles the back of my head with his other arm wrapped around me in a bear hug, and when we finally come to a stop, I find myself beneath him and completely winded.
When he pulls back, I start to crack a joke, but then my eyes lock on his and something shifts between us. Tension settles in, so freaking intense that I could cut it with a butter knife.
“Are you okay?” he rasps. I bite down a whimper when he brushes hair from my face. The touch, gentle as it is, ignites something fiery in me.
I know I should look away or say something to break this weird tension between us, but I find myself at a loss for words. Without thinking, my eyes drop to his mouth. Such full lips—and why do they look so soft?
When my eyes meet his once more, I read heat in them, stronger than the sun beating down on us. My head is spinning at our closeness, and then he leans down, bringing our mouths closer. So freaking close that I can feel his breath against mine. It’s all so intimate. So wrong.So arousing.
Someone moves. Maybe we both do, but I find that I don’t care as I lose nearly all my brain cells when his lips graze mine in the softest of kisses, maddening in the way it sends heat low in my belly.
