Page 96 of Without a Hitch
CHAPTER30
TILLY
“Fishing? For real? On a boat?” My foot taps out an excited beat as Lochlan watches on with a mixture of fear and sheer pleasure in his expression.
“Yes, Tilly. But John Ross and his wife are coming too. He seemed…eager when I told him our plans for the day.” He frowns like he’s unsure of something.
“Well, there’s no quicker way to smoke out a rat than being stuck out on the ocean with no way home.”
Lochlan’s unexpected laughter fills the cab of the Uber. “What the bloody hell are you talking about?”
“You know.” I grin, bumping his shoulder with mine. “We’ll be out at sea all day with no escape. If they have any concerns about us as a real couple, it will be easy for them to flesh them out.”
His face transforms into a scowl at the realization. “You’re right—”
“I am,” I cut him off. “But you know what else I’m right about?”
“If you say everything, I will take you over my knee right here.”
“Promises, promises,” I tease but inch to the other side of the car when his gaze darkens.
“Tilly.” It’s a warning I don’t heed.
“Lover.” He reaches for my leg, and I squeak with wide eyes when I catch the driver’s gaze in the rearview. I’m laughing uncontrollably as I swat his hand away, but there’s joy on his face. Pure joy that makes me burst with contentment.
“Okay. Okay!” Holding up my hands in defense, I wait until he calmly returns his hands to his own lap. “What I was going to say is, we already look like a real couple. No one at the resort has questioned us. That older couple even commented how cute we were at dinner the other night. All we have to do is be us, and we’ll be fine.”
“Us is real, Tilly. I’m not pretending here.” He doesn’t make eye contact, instead opting to peer out the window, but I see the disquiet of his furrowed brow and downturned lips. “Are you having a good time?”
My head snaps up, and I slide across the seat to his side. “Lochlan, look at me.” His shoulders tense, and his entire body goes stiff, but he does as I ask. “I’ve had the most amazing time with you here. I mean that with my whole heart. Have I not shown my appreciation?”
“Of course you have. But you don’t ask for anything,” he huffs.
My brain scrambles, trying to understand his meaning. Angling my head to the side, I watch him and feel my lip hitch like a bad Elvis impersonation while my nose scrunches in disgust. “Ask for anything? What could I possibly need, Lochlan? We spend our days at the beach. You’ve made reservations or ordered the most amazing meals. You’re making every wish I had for this trip come true, and you’re giving me the only thing I truly wanted every single day.”
He tugs on his right earlobe as his elbow rests against the door. “I’m not giving you anything. You haven’t asked for anything, Tilly.”
“But I did. I asked for your time, and you’ve given it freely.”
“It’s not like it’s a hardship,” he grumbles. “You’ve worn that dress three times now.”
His words suck the air from my lungs. They hit harder than a punch to the gut, and I retreat back to my side of the car.
“Fuck. Tilly, I— Goddamn it.” He unbuckles, because of course my mercurial, rigid companion would be buckling his seatbelt in the back of an Uber, and drags me into his lap.
He rests his forehead against the side of mine, but I refuse to look at him while I collect my words. Old insecurities about being the poor girl from Camden Crossing threaten any self-preservation I’ve acquired with age.
“I like this dress, Lochlan.” Lifting my chin, I feign confidence. “That was incredibly rude.”
“Baby? Tilly? Look at me, please.” There’s regret in his voice, but there’s something else there too. His baritone is shaky, and when he lifts his hand to my cheek, I feel the vulnerability in his touch.
Slowly, I lift my gaze to his, attempting to mask the hurt. It’s easier to be mad, but when I find his piercing blue eyes filled with sadness, my mask crumbles.
“I love this dress too. You’re breathtaking in everything you wear. I don’t care if you wear the same thing every day.” I arch a brow and roll my eyes. “Okay, maybe not every day,” he concedes.
“Do people always want things from you?” I keep my tone gentle, but his grip tightens on my hip.
“Most people.”
