Page 100 of Flirting with Trouble

“You’re crazy.” I laugh. “I’m not that good.”

“Yes, you are, and I love watching you play. That’s all that matters.” He emphasizes his point with another kiss.

The truth is, if it’ll make him happy to hear me play, I’ll play all night long.

We have dinner at a quaint Italian restaurant and eat at a table outside by the courtyard, where a crowd has gathered around a pantomime. The food is delicious and the performer is entertaining. When we finish eating, Wells takes my hand and says, “Are you up for a quick walk down to the water? I want to get a picture of us for my office.”

“You do?”

“Of course I do. When you’re in the city, and I’m out here, I want to see your beautiful face.”

I don’t want to think about being apart, but I’m glad he is, because I want a picture, too. The enormity of how much I want pictures of us not just in my office, but also in my home, hits deep and feels right. “Only if you’ll send it to me, too.”

The sun hangs low in the sky as we make our way down to the beach and walk along the shore. The land juts into the ocean like a giant hand cradling the harbor, giving us a romantic view across the way to the lights of houses and shops. Wells sets the guitar case and our bags in the sand, and we head over to a jetty of rocks. He leans his butt against them and guides me between his legs.

His gaze moves adoringly over my face, and he tucks my hair behind my ear, his lips curving up. “There’s my girl,” he says just above a whisper, and my heart takes notice.

“Hi,” I say softly.

“What are you thinking about?”

I don’t even try to hold back the truth. “Kissing you.”

He laughs softly, and then his lips come slowly, sensually down over mine, and I know that it won’t matter how many pictures we take. Every moment we’re apart will feel like an eternity.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Wells

“You’d better wipe that grin off your face, or they’ll know something’s up,” Victory says as she hooks her finger in the front of my shorts, tugging me closer. She looks cute as hell in my Rock Bottom hoodie and her new shorts.

We purposefully arrived late for the bonfire at Grant’s house in order to get the guys back for their sex-toy prank. We snuck one of the blow-up dolls into Grant’s shower and tied the other to the top of Fitz’s car. We’re still in the driveway, which had been overgrown, the bungalow nothing more than a run-down dune shack when Grant moved in to hide from the world a couple of years ago. With the help of family and friends, as he climbed out of his depression, so did the state of his property. The bungalow became a home, and the yard, a welcoming path of dune grasses, plants, and flowers.

“I can’t help it,” I say, wrapping my arms around Victory. “After the day we’ve had, it’s hard to be anything but happy.” Not only do I feel like we’ve finally jumped over the hurdles that separated us, but Seth called while we were getting ready for the bonfire. He was happy to hear that Victory was with me, and he let me know that we have a meeting with Kane next week about the property for the restaurant. Life is pretty fucking perfect right now. “But don’t worry, sweets. By the time I get over that hill, I’ll be a heartbroken, angry bastard. Are you ready to do this?”

“Yes. We’ll teach them not to mess with us.”

“Damn right we will.” We kiss, and then I step back and scrub a hand down my face, wiping away my smile. But the second she smiles, it draws another one from me.

She gives me a shove toward the yard. “Get out of here. Focus on getting revenge.”

I head up the hill, trying to concentrate on the task at hand and not on my beautiful partner in crime. Fuck. Even that thought makes me smile. I have to dig deep for the will to appear heartbroken and draw upon the feelings I had when I first returned to the island last weekend. That’s not a time I want to revisit, but for the greater good of revenge, it’s worth it.

The bungalow sits back from the edge of the dunes, buffered from the harsh winter winds of the sea by dune grasses and indigenous bushes. As I near the backyard, the bonfire comes into view. My brothers and sisters and our friends are sitting around it. It’s a familiar and welcome sight, but before the fun must come revenge. Shifting into heartbroken mode, I round my shoulders, duck my head, and make my way over to them.

“There he is,” Bellamy calls out.

Everyone turns to look at me, and Scrappy, Brant and Cait’s tiny black-and-gold Yorkie scurries over, yapping. I scoop him up, and he licks my cheek.

“We were getting worried you weren’t going to show up,” Fitz says.

“Where’s Vic?” Flynn asks as he grabs a beer from a cooler.

I know I can’t pull off angry while holding this furbaby, so I put Scrappy down, and he scampers over to Brant. “She went back to the city.” I glower at my brothers, who are stifling grins.

“Why?” Keira asks.

“What did you do?” Leni pushes to her feet, looking at me accusingly, her auburn hair falling over her shoulders.