Page 85 of Arranged To Be Mine

I giggled. “No. Yes. I mean, that many times.”

He pressed a kiss to my temple. “You deserve to let go more often.”

“I’m not sure I’ll survive.”

He chuckled. “I’ll give you mouth to mouth. Mouth to⁠—”

“Stop! You are so randy.”

“What the hell is randy?”

“Oh, you’ve heard that.”

“Randy? Isn’t that British?”

“I need a drink,” I said.

“Think our beer is gone?” he asked.

I sighed. “I don’t know.”

Neither of us moved. My body felt wrung out. Sated. I had to admit, I was finally relaxed.

27

BEAU

The sun was sinking toward the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink that reflected off the water and turned everything a gorgeous gold.

We’d finally made it back outside, our beach chairs miraculously untouched. The cooler was still there too, though the ice had mostly melted. The beer was still cold at least.

I cracked open two bottles and handed one to Darcy. She took it and settled back into her chair with a sigh that sounded nothing like the tense woman who’d arrived this morning.

I watched her out of the corner of my eye, trying not to be obvious about it. She was different now. Looser. Her hair hung in salt-tangled waves around her shoulders. She hadn’t bothered to put her cover-up back on. Just sat there in that blue bikini, legs stretched out, toes buried in the sand.

She was actually sitting still. Not fidgeting. Not checking her phone. Not mentally running through her to-do list. She watched the waves, the wind whipping through her hair.

She was gorgeous. Same woman but she looked different. Rawer. Realer. The kind of beautiful that made my chest ache when I looked at her too long.

“So,” I said, breaking the comfortable silence. “What’s the verdict?”

She turned her head, one eyebrow raised. “Verdict on what?”

“The beach day. Have I swayed your opinion? Are you still not a beach person, or have I converted you?”

She considered the question, her gaze drifting back to the water. The waves rolled in and gulls shrieked overhead as the tide went out, leaving behind fresh morsels.

“It’s growing on me,” she admitted. A small smile tugged at her lips. “But I’m sure the company helps.”

“Agreed.” I took a sip of my beer. “The company definitely helps.”

We sat in silence for another moment, watching the sun sink lower. The beach had mostly emptied out as the afternoon faded, leaving just a few stragglers walking along the waterline.

I set my beer down and turned to face her. This conversation had been building in my head all day. I figured now was as good a time as any to say it.

“Look,” I started, choosing my words carefully. “I know you like to plan everything out. Categorize things into their properly labeled places. Put everything in neat little boxes.”

She frowned. “I don’t know what that means.”