Page 100 of Lowering His Guard

I fan my face. “Why?”

“Because you …” He cuts himself off. “Never mind.”

I thread my arm through his. “Let’s walk and eat. I want to play a game.”

He grunts but he does start walking through the crowd again. I explain the games as we pass them. “Plank’s Pirate Challenge. It’s sort of a ring toss but players toss rope loops over pirate swords or tiny pirate ships instead.” I point to the next game. “This is Viking’s Fish Flip. The goal is to toss rubber fish into fishing nets hanging at different heights.”

“Smuggler’s Hideaway is crazy.”

My stomach drops, and ice fills my veins. “Would you never consider living here?”

“I didn’t say crazy is bad.”

“You’re serious?” I’m not asking him to move to the island tomorrow, but it’d be nice to know it’s a possibility since I’m never leaving.

His lips tip up in that almost smile I’m addicted to. “You’re crazy but I kind of like you.”

“Kind of.” I smirk. “You more than like me.”

I’m teasing but his blue eyes fill with sincerity. “Yeah, I do.”

My heart stutters in my chest. “Me, too,” I manage to respond.

“Good,” he mutters before his mouth crashes onto mine. I moan and his tongue swoops in to taste. I grasp his t-shirt and pull him closer. I want his heat surrounding me. His scent teasing my nose. His arms wrapping around me.

“Shit.” He tears his mouth from mine.

“What?” I scan the area. “What’s wrong? Did someone see us?” Is he embarrassed of me? Does he not want to be seen with me?

I don’t care how much I love him – and I do love him with my whole heart – I won’t abide being with someone who’s embarrassed of me. I have more pride than that. Despite being defective. I deserve more.

Shit. I need to tell Brock I can’t have children. He deserves to know before this relationship progresses any further.

“I dropped the shrimp.”

What? I glance down at the shrimp splattered on the ground. Relief fills me and I giggle.

“We can get more. Or we could get some smuggler fries. Or some Kraken calamari. You eat calamari, don’t you?”

“Maybe we should have some burgers before you try to eat every snack available on the boardwalk.”

My stomach growls. I do love a greasy burger.

“The Salty Siren it is.”

I bend over to pick up the shrimp but Brock elbows me out of the way. “I’ve got it.”

I don’t argue. I’m not stupid. I will stand here and watch Brock’s ass as it bunches as he picks up the shrimp. No argument from me.

Once he’s thrown everything away, he captures my hand, and we continue our journey along the boardwalk. For once I don’t prattle on and on. I enjoy the silence between us. Just our hands touching and the strength of this big man walking next to me is enough.

I screech to a halt and point. “There’s no one waiting.”

“No one waiting for what?”

“Rogue’s Marshmallow Heist game. Instead of knocking over milk bottles, you throw beanbags in the shape of marshmallows at raccoons trying to steal a picnic.”

He grunts. “I’m not throwing a beanbag at a raccoon.”