Everett’s fingers brushed hers for a second—a light touch, a question. She let her hand stay there, answering.
His shoulders relaxed. “Okay,” he murmured. “Maybe this train isn’t so bad.”
The jingle played again.
He groaned. “Never mind. I was wrong.”
After the train, they stood in line for Dole Whip. Rowan ordered three, and they sat at a picnic table under the shade of a massive banyan, each armed with a towering swirl bursting out of the cup. Kelsey took the first dramatic bite, closed her eyes like she was about to deliver an Oscar speech, and declared, “It tastes like ... sunshine melted into ice cream.”
Rowan jumped in with delight. “It’s pineapple cotton candy that grew a backbone.”
Everett tasted his, brows lifting. “It’s frozen tropical air with a superiority complex.”
Kelsey choked on a laugh. “Dad, that’s terrible.”
Rowan leaned in, challenging. “Try again, Suit.”
He considered, licking another curl from the spoon—slow enough that Rowan’s pulse skyrocketed. “Fine. It tastes like ... vacation flirting with dessert.”
Kelsey groaned and dropped her head to the table. “Just awful.”
Rowan only smiled into her cup, because his description had been absurdly accurate—and way too close to the way he’d been looking at her all afternoon. When they finished and Kelsey went to throw out their cups, he took her hand and pressed her palm to his lips. “Did you always try to come up with creative expressions for your food?” he asked curiously.
The memory caught and held. “It was a game my dad and I played. We’d go on these food adventures and try to come up with the most outrageous descriptions.”
His face softened. “I like that game. I’m honored to be a part of it.”
She blinked, absurdly moved. Words failed so she simply nodded.
A wicked grin curved those lush lips. “But there was a different description I had in mind for a Dole Whip. The taste reminds me of you.” Heat burned through her. “Sweet. Creamy.” Her throat dried up as his finger pressed into her palm. “A bit of a bite. And completely addicting.”
Rowan stared back, helpless underneath the intensity of his gaze. A low laugh escaped and he squeezed her hand. “I’ll look forward to later, when I can indulge in my own slow time.”
Damned if the man didn’t easily look up as Kelsey raced back, pretending he hadn’t just used his sexy words as a grenade.
That definitely paid her back for the bloated turtle trick.
They walked the gardens, stopping at koi ponds and pineapple facts, Kelsey running ahead to explore while Everett drifted beside Rowan, brushing against her every so often, his presence warm and steady.
“You’re smiling,” she teased.
“I’m tolerating,” he corrected.
“That’s high praise coming from you.”
He slid his hand to the small of her back, the heat a quiet hum under her skin. “You make everything tolerable.”
Rowan’s breath caught. “Everett . . .”
He leaned in slightly, voice low, intimate. “And infuriating. And distracting.”
She swallowed. “Good.”
His mouth curved. “Very.”
Kelsey called them over to pose by the giant pineapple. Everett stepped into the frame after tugging on his hula-chicken shirt. Rowan laughed so hard she nearly snorted.
“Don’t,” he warned.
