She moved to the edge of the blanket. “And if I can’t live with it?”
“Why are you here?” He looked up at her. “If what I did was so awful, why did you ask to meet? I knew you’d learned the truth the moment I read your text. I’m not sure how—”
“Delaney showed me the picture she took.”
He nodded and then shrugged. “You would have found out eventually.”
He set the cardboard to-go box on the blanket and reached for the juice. He tore off the plastic, took out a box, and freed the straw. Then he stabbed it into the box and wrapped his lips around it.
He should look innocent, sipping mixed berry on the beach.
The sight of his lips on the straw brought her back to her kitchen. He’d listened to her. He’d heard what she wanted and he’d done everything in his power to deliver.
“You wrote exactly what I wanted to hear.” She lowered down to the blanket and reached for the tacos. “It was all right there in Philip Ryder’s profile. You were my dream date.” She looked at him as she raised the first soft-shell veggie taco to her lips. Before she bit into Minny’s creation, she asked, “Was any of it real? Or was this some big game for you?”
“You’re my best friend’s sister. Finn is the closest thing I have to family. My mom has spent the past fifteen years visiting one rehab facility after another. My dad walked away and never looked back. Finn is my family and you’re his.” His smile faded for the first time since she’d found him on the beach. “I’m not toying with you. This wasn’t a game. I wrote what you wanted to hear so that you would give me a shot. You were so damn intent on pushing me away.”
“You don’t believe in magic and happy endings,” she pointed out, setting the half-eaten taco back in the box.
“No, I don’t.” He tossed the juice box aside. His left hand reached for her right. Staring out at the violent water, he covered her hand with his.
The tension she’d carried since her meeting with Delaney unraveled. Slowly. Her lips parted, and she inhaled the salty air. He could have lied and said he’d changed his mind. He could have pretended she’d opened his eyes to fireworks and passion.
“You don’t believe, but you came after me anyway,” she said.
He nodded. “When I go to work in the morning, I know what I’m going to do that day. Every meeting, every decision has a single-minded goal—turn a profit for our fund.” He turned to her, shifting his hips so that his torso faced hers. “I look at you and I want to hand you those damn fireworks you’ve been looking for on a platter. If I could figure out how . . . and not lose you.”
He raised his free hand to her face. His fingers brushed her hair back and she felt a shiver run through her. Gently, he tucked one of her damp curls behind her ear. “Every time you wrote to Philip, I saw a new side of this woman I thought I knew. You were the sweet, heartbroken girl. B
ut then you ask about handcuffs—”
“You started it with that picture.” She searched his expression. And for the first time, she saw a hint of confusion. The billionaire bachelor stayed one step ahead. He won. At work. At life. At everything.
Until now.
She tilted her head, leaning into his touch. Two more raindrops landed on her face, but she ignored them. “Tell me the truth, Jared. Is that what you’re into? Bondage? Are you a closeted Christian Grey?”
“No. No.” He let out a laugh. Then he leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers. The hand toying with her hair shifted to the back of her neck. And he held her there. “No. I’m into you. I’m lost in you. But I don’t know how to deliver the first-date fireworks you’re looking for. I don’t have a plan, Lucy. Every time I thought I’d found the way to give you what you want, there was a new piece of the puzzle.”
“I’m not complicated.”
“You are. You’re charming, Lucy. But you’re also wild and—”
“Daring?” she whispered.
“Yes.”
She pulled her right hand free from his and reached for him. Foreheads still touching, she interlaced her fingers behind his head. He’d lied to her. But she could live with that.
“I have a plan,” she whispered.
He ran his hand up her bare arm. “A magical plan?”
“Kiss me.” She drew her head away from his and felt his hold on her tighten. “Just kiss me, Jared.”
His lips touched hers. Gently. As if she might break. As if he wondered if he’d already broken her.
She tightened her hold on him, running her fingers through his short, wavy hair. She drew him closer. He let out a low groan. But he kept his lips soft against hers.