Page 362 of The Romance Adventure

We’ve done this before, but it’s not old or stale. The mere brush of his lips on my skin sends zings through me.

Our gazes meet, lock, and the space closes between us.

My mind starts to empty as our lips meet. I loosen my grip on thinking, analyzing, and questioning. I tell myself I don’t need to think straight right now. I’m with my husband. That’s enough. More than enough.

The mission tries to barge its way in and steal the moment. Revenge. Justice. But I’m no longer sure of my goal. Not sure about much of anything other than this kiss deepening.

My pulse rises. CJ’s breathing deepens and turns rough.

His hands skim my back and wrap around my waist.

I press my palms into his biceps, squeezing before wrapping my arms around his back, locking us together.

Even though I can’t risk admitting it, I never want him to let me go.

CJ

CHAPTER 10

Jolie pulls back, catching her breath. It tickles my neck and I whisper things about love and beauty into her ear in every language I know. I trail my lips back the way I came, landing, once more, on her wrist and then clasping her hand in mine.

I can’t define exactly what’s happened with us between our whirlwind, knock-your-socks-off, romance in Malaga, and now, but I want to go back to what we had. Make it even better. Learn and grow and have a life, a future that goes beyond the horizon.

I skim her arm with my lips, then lace it around my neck. The other joins it and her fingers clasp behind my head. I grip her waist, and our eyes meet once more.

She has bee-stung lips and her cheeks are rosy, likely from my stubble.

Something should be said, but it’s all in the eyes. It’s like she’s pleading with me, trying to say what she can’t with words. Things are complicated and possibly confidential.

My brothers can say what they will about me, but I’m nothing if not patient...and loyal.

All is well in the world when I wake up with my wife by my side. Even if later today we argue about something dumb, like whether to leave the butter on the counter or in the refrigerator, I now trust we can come through it.

Well, once I find the crown, give up this chase, and come clean that I’m not only a surfer and deep-sea diver.

My heart rattles against my rib cage when her foot brushes mine under the sheets. Her soft breathing suggests she’s having pleasant dreams.

It’s daybreak and I am wide awake. My mind skips from Jolie’s return to the trip to Barbados that did not result in a reunion with my aunt, the Crimson Tide we didn’t find, and the fourth piece of the map that’s still missing.

Jolie studied the mural at the Sip & Scoop for a long time and the one in Glandman’s office. Both were maps, yet they were so different. The one from the Sip & Scoop had a playful, tropical vibe and suggested adventure. The one at Platinum Shores practically plotted a course through storms, both internal and external. It was moody and had an air of desperation—not necessarily like Isla was in a rush to get it done, but that Glandman wouldn’t rest until every inch of the wall was covered, every island explored, no stone left unturned.

I relate, obsessing about the piece of the puzzle we’re still missing. We have the three items that belong to the crown: the pearl, diamond, and red coral. We need the remaining piece of the map. I review the words in the will.

Anything that floats.

The Salty Skeleton.

But where is the rest of the map?

Hands hammocked behind my head and staring at the ceiling, I puff an exhale.

Only some islands and locations on Glandman’s map were labeled. Were they places he visited, property sites, or something else? Some spots on the mural at the ice cream parlor had little flags and location names. I don’t believe there’s a connection, but it’s like a compass spins wildly and when it stops, it points to both maps.

Or maybe that’s because we desperately need the fourth piece to ours.

I get up and shower, tossing the dirty laundry from yesterday in the basket. Magnus is trained to be tidy. Royal is effortlessly so. Ryan is half and half. I’ll admit, I’m part slob.

Jolie isn’t much better and her clothing lies scattered on the floor.