“Then dinner.” Flying through the time zones to St. Barts had thrown off their day.
“Too early for that,” she countered. “Plus, we have dinner plans.”
“We’ll call it predinner. I’ll eat too.” He blocked her protest with the flip of the menu. “It’s the only way we’re staying out here.”
“Bossy.”
“Not the first time you’ve said that.” He flipped the menu again.Shrimp. Scallops. Sashimi.The closest thing to carbs was the deep-fried tempura and fish tacos.
Jules sighed into her drink. “Maybe I should convince Abs to go to the spa. We could do a couples massage. I bet there’s a honeymoon special—I bet they’ll come to the bungalow. So romantic. Me and Abs.”
He flagged down the butler. “An order of fish tacos. Fries on the side.”
“I’m on my honeymoon,” she told the butler. “Alone.” She gestured to Rhys with her half-empty mai tai. “Sort of. Another mai tai, please?”
Rhys mouthed, “Water that sucker down,” over her head.
“Did you say something?” she asked as the butler left.
“Nope.”
Jules nibbled on the pineapple. “I appreciate what you said in the hotel room.”
He’s not worth your tears.Rhys didn’t know where that advice had come from, but he wasn’t wrong. The idea that someone could be engaged to Jules and not worship the ground she walked on didn’t compute. Hollywood was like an alien planet. Nothing made sense.
“Any other nuggets of wisdom you want to share?” she asked.
“Nope.”
“Back to the one-word answers again, huh?” She waited for him to say something else but didn’t hold out long. “Fine.” She slugged back her drink. “Don’t say anything when you’re probably the one person who would tell me the truth.”
“Sloane would tell you the truth.”
Jules snorted into her mai tai. “Not always.”
“She did you a solid at the wedding. Another publicist might have let you marry the asshole and plan to sell your sob story and divorce details to the highest bidder.” Then again, he wouldn’t put it past Sloane for maybe considering the option. “Abigail wouldn’t lie to you either.”
“Abigail thinks I should’ve let Sloane off her leash.” Jules swiped her hand in front of her as though gesturing to a sea of paparazzi instead of the crashing waves. “Actress mends broken heart with hunky bodyguard.”
Mends broken heart?Sloane and Rhys were observing two different Juleses, if her publicist really believed Jules was devastated. “You need to lay off those mai tais.”
“Probably. But I’m not gonna.”
A bird swept into the water and snagged its lunch. Its large wings beat as it sailed along the waves. “Don’t yell at me for saying this—”
“This is what I’ve been waiting for. Time for the truth bomb. What is it, Rhys?”
He really needed to keep his mouth shut.
“Don’t clam up.” She twisted her fingers in front of her lips as though turning the key in a lock. “I won’t say a word. I’m listening. I want to hear what you think.” Jules pouted. “Tell me. Please?”
Nowhere were the sobbing tears he would have expected after the cheating fiancé and pregnant bridesmaid had been revealed.
I was supposed to be done doing this alone.
What did Jules mean by that? That she was lonely? How could someone surrounded by so many people be lonely?
“Come on, tough guy,” she prodded. “Tell me.”
