“Well, it’s working for you.”
“Okay, what’s the plan here?” I ask him, because judging by the look on his face, it’s not me who’s going to have a hard time focusing, it’s him.
Not that I don’t want a round two with those luscious lips. And I wouldn’t mind a handful of his thick brown hair too.
His sea-green eyes study me, making me weak in the knees. The only thing I can do is get us both back on track.
“Big plan?” He wipes a stray hair away from my face with his hand and leans in close enough to kiss me. Is he going to kiss me? Or is he daring me to kiss him? My pulse quickens.
“Your plan,” I say, as I take a deep, calming breath. “You know, your plan? The one about getting your company back? Or not losing it in the first place?” This is hard because I really didn’t pay attention to any of the details earlier. It all happened so fast. “Any of this ringing a bell?”
He shakes his head, like he’s forcefully breaking himself out of his own trance. I know exactly how he feels.
“Yes. Right. The company.” The worry frowns return to his face and for a very brief moment I feel bad about reminding him. Then my sympathy passes. After all, this whole thing is his damn idea.
He palms his square jaw with his hand for a moment, like he’s going to say something. But he doesn’t. Instead, he turns and goes back into the living area.
I tell myself I absolutely did the right thing by getting both of us back on track. That’s what my brain says. My body is saying something else entirely, and I am trying very hard to ignore it.
When I come out of his bedroom, he’s sitting on the comfy sofa overlooking the beach and I sit next to him.
“Okay, I found a central location. Right there.” He points to the best, most prominent part of the beach. The part that everybody fights over. There’s a large lounge chair for two in the center of an expansive roped off area. Already, beachgoers are giving the giant empty lounge chair the stink eye.
Without asking me first, my mouth pops open and I sit there looking like a codfish. I have to stop doing that. “How did you get them to cordon off the whole area like that? It’s going to piss people off, you know.”
He grins at me. It’s a wolfish, competitive, savage grin that makes me clench my thighs together.
“Exactly,” he continues. “It’s going to attract lots of attention.”
Chapter Thirteen
Kaylee
The next thing I know, I’m setting up my towel on the most expensive double lounge chair available. Seriously. I’ve never seen this particular chair out on the beach before, it never makes it out of the storage shed.
That’s probably because it costs four hundred dollars a day. I know, because I looked it up when Chase was busy getting his sun care regimen together.
The great part about a four hundred dollar a day lounge chair for two? A personal concierge that will bring us drinks and food all day. Seriously, there’s even a generator-powered fridge set up next to the lounge chair and a mini cabana over it so that we can adjust to get as much or as little privacy and/or sun as we want.
When the concierge shows up just as I’m snuggling in and asks for my drink and food order, I don’t complain. Then I remember I have to go back to work later. Bummer. “Um, can I get a virgin margarita and the fresh fruit platter?”
The concierge nods enthusiastically and it makes me smile.
It’s Chase’s turn. “I’ll have a burger, fries, and beer.”
The concierge turns on her heels and heads back toward the resort bar and grill. I admit I could get used to this kind of thing.
Once we’re alone again, I turn to talk to Chase and can’t help but take in his entire tan, sexy body lying next to me on the beach. A girl could do worse. But we’re here for a reason, and I’m trying ridiculously hard not to get distracted. “Okay, now what? Do we make out for an hour in between meals, snacks, and drinks?” I ask with a smirk.
Chase turns toward me. “No, nothing like that. Are you kidding me? That’s not how any of this works. Okay, I’ll show you. Sit up for a minute.”
Chase gets up to a sitting position and I join him. It’s a beautiful spot overlooking the ocean, not too far from where the waves lap gently onto the shore. Other than an occasional beach walker, there’s literally nobody here to bother us. “Why are we sitting up?”
“Okay,” he says, “good. Keep looking at the ocean, but then casually look to the south.”
“South?” I ask, raising an eyebrow at him.
He sighs heavily. “Left. Glance over to the left. Between us and that tiki hut in the distance.”
“The Beaky Tiki,” I correct him. “You should pay attention to these things. That is after all, the place where we met. History in the making right there.” I know I should give him a break, but I can’t help it, he’s just fun to mess with.
He turns to me again and raises an eyebrow.
“I’m kidding,” I say. Then I do as he suggests and glance over toward my favorite beach bar. There, off in the distance between us and the Beaky is a group of a dozen or so people being walled off by a few other people in uniforms. I don’t recognize the uniforms, but if I have to guess it would be private security.
“So that’s the paparazzi?” I ask.
“Yes,” Chase answers.
“Well, who are the people holding them back?”
“Just some security I hired this morning,” he answers.
“Why hire security to keep the photographers away from you when the plan is literally to have them photograph us together as proof?” The whole thing seems counter intuitive.
Chase lies back down. “You can’t make
