Page 136 of Snatched
I roll my eyes but I’m smiling.
“Fine,” I say. “But next time? I’m paying.”
“Oh, next time?” he teases. “Damn. Already planning our second date?”
“Shut up.”
He stands, comes around the booth, offers me his hand.
And when I take it, his fingers slide between mine like they belong there.
Epilogue
ELENA
The sun is melting into the ocean, smearing pink and gold across the sky like the world is showing off. The breeze is warm, carrying the scent of saltwater and champagne. The string lights are flickering on as the wedding party spills onto the sand.
And everywhere I look…
Women are staring at Colt.
Harper—shockingly but not—is the worst offender.
“ELENA,” she hisses, grabbing my arm. “I am BEGGING you—please let me touch his abs. Just once. I’m on my knees.”
“Absolutely not,” I mutter, which only makes her laugh harder.
Our other friend Natalie appears beside us, drink in hand, her maxi dress fluttering like she’s in her own perfume commercial. She’s always had that effortlessly-sexy boho vibe. She leans in conspiratorially.
“I’m getting a massage later,” she announces to no one in particular. “A veryintimatemassage. If you know what I mean.”
I choke on my champagne.
Harper claps.
“Natalie! We’re at a wedding!”
Natalie shrugs. “I’m single, I’m 41, and I’m on vacation. If a woman can’t get railed by a pair of magic hands in Cabo, wherecanshe do it? Besides, I’m kidding. It’s notthatkind of massage.”
Harper snaps her fingers at me. “Elena, write this down. NAT is getting a second wind after her divorce. I have a feeling it will be epic. Someone should write about her. And about you,” she says, turning to me.
I laugh, cheeks flushed and heart light.
Then I feel that instinct that pulls my gaze straight to Colt.
Standing a few yards away, talking to the groom, his damp hair pushed back, his linen shirt half-open, his tan skin glowing like a one-man brochure for “Destination Wedding Eye Candy.”
The bridesmaids keep glancing at him, whispering.
One even fans herself.
Natalie whistles under her breath. “That man is illegally hot. Elena, you should be in prison.”
Harper nods vigorously. “Jail. Immediately.”
And then Colt looks at me.
Not at them.
