Page 42 of Luck Be a Genie

“You have a little dirt there in your teeth,” Nick teased, pointing.

Groaning, I rinsed and spit again, then wet a hand towel Nick handed me and cleaned off my face. Nick, even though he was still laughing at my disgusted expression, was doing the same.

Once we were fairly cleaned up, our tour guide gave us some privacy to enjoy the views. Leaving our earpieces with Mac so we wouldn’t be overheard, we stepped out to the ledge and looked down.

Vertigo instantly hit me hard and I swayed.

“Lucky!” Nick snatched me back away from the edge, pulling me against his chest, and securing his arms around me in an iron grip. “I had no idea your vertigo was so bad,” he said, his voice shaking.

I clung to his arms as they wrapped tightly around me and closed my eyes to try to stop the spinning. “Yeah, it’s bad. It’s one of the reasons I hate heights. Other than, you know, the possibility of falling to my death.”

“You just scared fifty years off me.”

I turned in his arms, still with my eyes closed, to reassure him. “Sorry, but I’m okay,” I said, patting his arm. “Really. We’ll stand back here, away from the edge, and I’ll just look across instead of down. It’s a trick I use to avoid the whole vertigo thing, and it usually works.”

He nodded hesitantly. “Okay, let’s try it, but I’m not letting go of you.”

I never expected that he would, nor did I want him to.

We backed up a few more steps because Nick was still terrified I’d trip and fall, and I turned around again, facing the ocean and view. Since we couldn’t look down from this angle, I looked across... and was fine. It was still high up, but for some reason this angle always tricked my brain, and I usually didn’t get the head spinning or instant nausea when I viewed things this way.

“You good?”

I nodded, taking in a deep breath. The air was crisper up here and less dense with humidity, making it easier to breathe. “Yeah. It’s beautiful.”

He kissed my neck. “It really is.”

After our tour, Nick and I were both starving, so we decided to hit up a food truck on the way back to the resort. We found one not far from the ATV tour headquarters, and managed to find a parking space. Which, this late in the day, wasn’t easy.

“Stay please,” Nick ordered, and I smiled and shook my head as he came around to my side of the jeep, opened my door for me, and helped me out.

He made it so easy to fall for him.

Not because he was performing, but because this was Nick. This was who he was. He was a lover, very thoughtful, and a natural protector. He was someone I could tell my secrets to and he would never betray me or think less of me. Someone I could trust with my whole self and share everything with, even if the thought of that level of vulnerability still made me cringe and want to retreat and hide.

I hoped I could get there someday soon.

For myself, but also for Nick.

Since I was afraid the whole food truck would go up in flames if I got anywhere near it, I asked Nick to grab me a menu, and then sent him up with my order. I chose the loaded fried rice, and Nick chose a sandwich called the Hurricane Chicken. It was supposed to be really spicy, and I kind of wanted to try it, but not enough to get my own. For a drink I just got a Coke, and Nick got a bottle of water.

All the seats and tables were taken, but it was only a block down from the beach, so we grabbed our meal to go and drove there. I managed to grab the bags and the drinks, while Nick brought everything else. He’d picked up a few things a few days ago for us to use when we wanted to go to the beach. One of them was a towel so large it looked like a blanket. It even had little spike things you could drive into the sand to keep it from flying away, which was perfect for a picnic on the beach.

We found a spot and spread the towel out, then sat and got comfortable, divvying up the food.

“Can I try a bite of your sandwich?”

He eyed me doubtfully. “Are you sure? It has sriracha mayo on it.”

I shrugged. “It sounds good. I won’t know if I’ll like it until I try it.”

He handed it over with an expression that still said he was waiting for me to dive for my soda, but after taking a bite, I chewed thoughtfully, and then took another one.

“Are you going to give it back?” he asked with a laugh.

“Maybe. This is really good, and I’m not usually crazy about fried food.” Reluctantly, when he looked like a sad little puppy denied treats, I handed him his sandwich back. “Want some of mine?” I asked, opening my to-go container. Instantly, I could smell the rice and bacon, along with the scrambled egg, green onions, and sauce they’d put on.

“Yeah, that looks good.”