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I exchange curious glances with the guys before approaching the front counter. An impressive assortment of tropical fruits, gourmet chocolates, and expensive champagne is artfully arranged in a woven basket, with an orange–my least favorite color–bow tied around it. There’s no note attached.
Wilder lets out an impressed whistle. “Well, well, someone’s trying to get on your good side. Can’t say I blame them.” He waggles his eyebrows outrageously and I have to fight back an amused grin.
“No note. Secret admirer perhaps?” Wyatt asks politely, though there’s a tightness around his eyes.
I scan the lavish gift display, a niggling suspicion forming. “I have a pretty good idea who it’s from actually.”
Right on cue, my phone chimes with an incoming text. It’s just one word from a number I never thought I’d see again.
Brody.
The text simply reads: “Truce?”
I delete the message with more force than necessary. Looks like Brody is up to his old tricks, trying to slither back into my life through flashy gifts and hollow gestures. Too bad for him I see right through it now.
“How about we donate this to the resort staff,” I suggest breezily, determined not to let Brody ruin another moment of my time here.
Wyatt nods. “An excellent idea.” With that, our little ragtag group turns and walks out of the front entrance, heading straight towards the beach.
As we walk along the shoreline, leaving footprints in the pristine sand, I sense the guys exchanging loaded looks behind my back. I keep my gaze focused on the azure waves lapping gently against the beach, waiting.
Sure enough, Wilder is the first to break the tense silence. “Soooo, you and Bro-ham back there clearly have some history,” he prods lightly, sidling up next to me.
I press my lips together, debating how much to reveal. Sensing my reluctance, Wyatt chimes in diplomatically from my other side. “You have no obligation to discuss anything you’re not comfortable with, Kathryn.”
I shoot him a small, grateful smile. But oddly, I find I don’t mind opening up a bit to them. “Brody is very much an ex for good reason. We dated for two years until I finally came to my senses.”
Emrys grunts, prompting me to continue.
I shrug, aiming for nonchalance. “He was arrogant, self-centered, and saw me as an accessory. Not to mention a master manipulator. His flashy gifts and hollow charm used to sway me constantly.”
“What a bastard,” Wilder proclaims like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. I have to laugh at his succinct summation.
“That’s putting it mildly. Let’s just say the romantic haze wore off quickly once I realized it was all superficial. And…” I shake my head, not wanting to get into the most heartbreaking part of the whole thing.
Wyatt and Emrys exchange a loaded glance I can’t quite decipher.
Trying to lighten the mood, I bump Wilder’s shoulder playfully. “Tell me there aren’t exes you regret in your past.”
“Oh I’ve got stories, darlin’, believe me,” Wilder says with a roguish wink. “But lucky for you, I was saving my charm for the right lady.”
Ignoring my suddenly racing pulse, I meet Wyatt’s thoughtful gaze. “We’ve all been there in one way or another,” he acknowledges simply. I sense volumes unsaid in his words.
“Even you, big guy?” Wilder prods Emrys teasingly.
Emrys just levels him with a stare that could cut steel. “No exes,” he states gruffly. His golden eyes slide my way and my breath catches at the intensity in his gaze.
I clear my throat, aiming for levity, but before I can say a word, a torrent of shouting and singing suddenly sounds up ahead and I squint into the distance before realization sets in.
“Run!” I turn and shove at Wyatt, but I can’t get him to budge. I’m wasting precious moments of escape time.
“What? Why do we have to run?” He doesn’t move and I spin around to see the impending crowd of doom and chaos drawing closer.
“You’ll regret not listening to me.” I wink, and then I spin on my heels and duck behind Emrys–the biggest of the three–who will most definitely provide the most cover.
I just manage to get entirely behind him when the first signs of attack appear. A glint of silver in the sky, white substance flinging from the object and splattering all three of my fake boyfriends-slash bodyguards-slash-shields right before the object connects with a plop on Wyatt’s chest.
He gazes down at the pie tin stuck to the front of the chicken costume in bewilderment before his eyes finally flick up and find mine. I shrug my shoulders from behind Emrys and blow him a kiss. “Welcome to the family, Wy. Enjoy your pie.”
