I try to hide the smirk on my lips, but she catches it.
She rolls her eyes, turning away from me. “I’m going to miss my flight.”
“Let me take you on a date tonight.”
She shakes her head, eyes wide. “No. I’m going home.”
“I meant in Coconut Beach, at the Grand Palm.”
“Why? Are there more secrets you need to tell me? Are you stalking my location too? Do you have January and the Bees reporting back to you everywhere I’ve been?”
I reach for her hand, interlacing our fingers. I dip my head down to the side of her cheek, pressing my lips to her ear. “No. I just think it’s time we went on a real date, Cupcake. Since my secret is out and you know I’ve been stalking and obsessing over you, now I want other people to know it too.”
“You mean, you want to mark your territory.”
“Of course. But I also want to try to convince you to give me a chance.”
Goose bumps are beginning to prickle on her arm. My free hand moves and brushes against her stomach, pulling her into me.
“No sex,” she breathes.
“Deal.”
“Really? Just like that?”
“Yes. I won’t touch you again until you ask me to.”
“I’ll let you know about dinner. I need to think about it.”
“Okay. Let’s get you to the airport.”
chapter thirty-three
Summer
Aseagull flies overhead as I’m strolling down the beach toward the Seaside Bed-and-Breakfast Wendy and Josie’s family owns. It’s been the longest day of my life. Thankfully, the flight from Miami to here is short. The salty ocean breeze is playing with my hair, and the sun is dipping behind the horizon, painting the clouds a peachy pink. The temperature is finally cooling off. I almost wish I’d brought something to cover my shoulders.
My phone buzzes with a text. I look down to see Dayton’s name.
Russell Dayton Copeland II (Satan):
I made us a reservation on the balcony for eight. As friends.
I chew on my lower lip as I stare at the screen. He must have managed to catch a flight this afternoon.
“Hey, pretty lady. Going somewhere?”
I look up, smiling at the woman standing in the sand. Wendy is dressed in cream linen pants and a matching button-down shirt. I’m surprised she’s allowing herself a quiet moment to enjoy the sound of the waves. She’s usually bustlingabout, doing everything at once to manage the Seaside Bed-and-Breakfast and never slowing down. Practicing yoga on the beach three times a week would do wonders for her sleeping habits.
She wraps her arms around my shoulders, pulling me in tight for a hug. I sink into her, realizing how badly I needed it.
“Hi,” I mumble against her shoulder.
“Did you miss me that bad, or is something going on?”
“Boy trouble.”
“Oh, I see. Well, in that case, let’s sit down.”
