“If you don’t want to do this anymore, Sloane will understand. Especially after last night and this morning.”
“I’ve never let that guy get to me, and I’m not going to start now.” She slid her hands along her sides, fidgeting with the fabric of her clothes. “Screw that guy.”
What neither of them said was that it wasn’t her stalker that had sent her running into the bathroom, crying. It was him.
“I have a large-brimmed hat,” she said, “and if I keep my head down, we can do what we want.”
Instantly, a list of things he wanted to do with Jules popped into his mind. None had to do with hiding her face from the public, and they all had to do with that large bed they’d woken in, wrapped together as though they’d spent the night naked. He cleared his throat. “Then let’s go get coffee.”
Jules snuck into her bungalow then walked out wearing the hat and large dark sunglasses. She was about as incognito as she could go.
“Did you check on Abigail again?” he asked.
“Still sleeping. I hope she can sleep her way through this as much as possible.”
They walked without talking to the main resort area. He didn’t take her hand or even touch her. His palm itched to rest along the hollow of her back, to slide down over the addictive curve of her ass.Fuck.What he wanted to do had become a pile of distractions when he should have been simply scanning and assessing their surroundings.
They skipped the restaurants until they found outdoor seating with a shaded spot under an umbrella, backed by tall bushes. They ordered coffee and muffins. Most people didn’t recognize Jules. A few did double-takes but kept to themselves.
He noted others who also traveled with security in tow. Some were more formal. Some were well disguised as part of a group. The resort catered to the wealthy and well-connected. Everyone mostly ignored her.
How would people in his hometown react to Jules Lowry sipping a latte at a coffee shop on Main Street? Surprisingly, they would react similarly.
Granite Creek had that small-town friendliness and was also deeply protective of its own. Not that Jules would be theirs. But if he took her there, if he said she was part of Titan, they’d treat her that way.
The town consisted of locals mixed with Washington, DC, escapees who had retired or left the hustle-and-bustle to start families. Everyone was not only protective but also guarded. Residents threw themselves into making sourdough loaves or chatting at the local hardware store, all while assuming that everyone had worked for the state department or something similar at some point in their lives. Once a spy, always a spy.
“Earth to Rhys,” she said, breaking his train of thought. “What’s that look on your face?”
Jules in Granite Creek? The image landed and stayed longer than it should have. He had no idea what to do with that. “What do you want to do today?”
“Lie on the beach with my sister and drink mai tais.” She frowned. “I can’t believe she’s sick.”
“I lay on the beach with you yesterday. I can do it again today.”
“It’s not the same.”
He shrugged. “I’m definitely not Abs. What did you and Ma—” He caught himself. It was a honeymoon. He knew exactly what they’d planned to do, and an uncomfortable, irritated sensation pulsed in his neck.
She laughed, apparently able to read his mind. “Mason and I? Probably sightsee more than things that happen on a honeymoon.”
He grimaced. “That’s not what I was going to ask.”
She laughed harder. “I think it was.”
“You’re wrong.”
“Mason and I were friends.” She tilted her head. “At least, I thought we were. More like business partners in a lot of regards but friendly enough for the occasional friends with benefits.”
He grumbled. “You’ve said more than you need to.”
“The itinerary didn’t change much by bringing Abigail instead. I wasn’t going to stay in bed all day with Mason—”
“Jules. Really. Enough.”
“I’m just letting you know. We hadn’t slept together in…” She tapped her teeth together. “A while. I should have realized something else was going on.”
“When Abigail is on her feet again, you can tell her all about it.”
