Page 68 of Plotting Summer

“So half a vote for kayaking and half a vote for spa day? Got it.” Tristan lifts my arm at my side as though I’m a WWE wrestler that just body slammed her opponent into submission. “And the winner is Capri with one full vote for her Winn Island excursion.”

“What about your dedication page? You’re willing to give it up just like that?”

“The only victory I actually cared about was getting you to do the competition. Besides, I got my dedication.” Tristan’s smile is full of mischief. “‘To the protagonist of my own love story. Thanks for the inspiration.’” He repeats the dedication page of Secret Crush verbatim. “I assume that’s me? The protagonist?”

Immediately, I feel my skin start to splotch, and I know my reckoning has come. “Possibly.”

He chuckles. “So, about this book …”

“How about we talk about something else? Like work. I didn’t even get a chance to ask you how the meeting with the buyers went today.”

His fingers brush over the skin of my reddened décolletage before his gaze lifts to my eyes. “You really don’t like talking about your books, do you?”

“Not even a little.” I shake my head. “And I’m pretty sure even less so when that conversation’s with the real-life guy from my fictional story.”

“So I can’t mention how long Capri—sorry, I mean, Cali had a crush on … Trenton? Because it was a long time. Like a lot longer than I initially thought.”

“Oh my gosh, stop!”

“Okay. But technically, I do have another question I get to ask, and I was super curious about the exchange between⁠—”

I pounce on him like a love-crazed lioness, knocking him onto his back and stopping his words by pressing my lips against his. He is smiling beneath my kiss, but I don’t give up, and it’s not long until his lips become pliable against mine. I know the pause of questioning is only temporary, but I also don’t mind in the least utilizing this diversionary tactic. I’ve missed out on years of kissing Tristan, and I fully intend to make up for lost time.

After a few glorious minutes, I pull back. “Are you done?”

“Nope.” He pulls me to him again, and I don’t mind at all. Because kissing Tristan is my new favorite thing ever.

After one more dizzying kiss, I lean back again. “Though I loved your enthusiastic response, I meant are you done with the questions?”

Tristan’s lips quirk upward as if he knew exactly what I meant, and he lifts on his elbows. “If people discover you’re Sunny Palmer, are you going to make a habit of stopping them from talking about your books like this?”

“It really depends,” I deadpan as if the vast majority of my readers are men and not women. “I’ll have to gauge it reader by reader.”

“Noted.” Tristan laughs. “So, now that you’ve won, what is it you want for your prize?”

“I already got it.” I grin up at him. “It’s the same thing that won me the competition—a kiss.”

“I thought that’s what you were going to ask for.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“The night of the swim party, when we were talking by the front desk, and I asked you what you wanted, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of my lips.”

My mouth opens, and I give him a little push that makes him smile. “I wasn’t that obvious.”

“You were so obvious. If your brother hadn’t walked in, our first kiss very well could have been right there in the lobby at Seaside Oasis.”

“Then you would have won the competition.”

Tristan shrugs. “It would’ve been a much closer call, for sure.”

“Well, considering how things turned out, I’m confident we both won.”

His narrowed eyes hold mine like he doesn’t want to agree to accepting his participation-award, but then he nods. “We definitely both won.” Tristan drops his gaze briefly before looking back at me in a way that causes my nerves to flare.

“What is it?” I ask.

“I just want to make sure we’re on the same page with everything.”