Page 69 of One Billion Reasons

“I don’t know. You used to love this kind of thing. A big, fancy hotel, a beautiful beach.” I shrug. It seems like something the old fun-loving Miles would enjoy. But come to think of it, he’s so much more serious now.

“It would have been. I was lighter back then.”

Before his death. He doesn’t need to say it. “I’m sorry,” I murmur.

“It’s not just that. I mean, it’s a huge part of it. But without him here, it feels like the mantle of responsibility is all on my shoulders. Living up to what my father wanted. Something your brother and I have in common, I suppose.”

I clasp my bra and turn to see him staring at me, stark hunger in his eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that and talk about my brother, please.”

He barks a surprised laugh and picks up my dress from the rock. “Come on, I’ll help you put this on.”

I turn, feeling exposed, even though the dark is hiding most of me. He smooths the dress over my body, his hands lingering. He zips and presses a kiss to my neck. I shiver.

“What do you mean, living up to what your father wanted?”

We head up the beach as Miles considers. “My father grew up with very little, but he was proud of his roots and his work. As far as I know, he never felt lesser than any of my mother’s friends. To me, he was so much more than them.”

“It sounds like he was.”

“He’s the reason I built my company with Jonah without any seed money from my family. I’m incredibly privileged to have the family I have and their money. But I didn’t touch my trust when I started out. He told me once that a person’s worth is measured by how they conduct themselves.” Miles swallows hard. “So I try to live by that. I haven’t always succeeded,” he adds softly.

“I think he’d be proud of you.” I squeeze his hand and we climb the steps back to the hotel without speaking. Miles is fiddling with his phone, texting someone. When we get back to the room I see why. There’s a room service cart outside.

“You didn’t eat dinner, right?” he asks.

“No. Thank you. What did you get me?” I’m touched, even though I don’t want to be.

“I think you’ll like it.” He winks and wheels the cart into the room.

When he pulls the lids off the dishes with a flourish, I laugh. “This is the weirdest and most wonderful assortment of foods I’ve ever seen.”

“You are a lady of taste, Lane Overton.” He grins at me, handsome and carefree.

“How did you remember all my favorite foods?” Warmth spreads inside me, especially as he looks away, a flush spreading over his cheekbones. “I remember a lot of things. As evidenced by my impeccable score on the quiz yesterday.” He smiles, and my insides flutter.

“Help me eat it?”

“If you insist.”

We dig into spaghetti and popcorn shrimp and miniature dumplings, with orange sherbet for dessert. The hotel has kept it cold in a champagne bucket, and I shake my head at the excess.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

Miles is sitting against the wall, knees bent, sleeves rolled up to show off thick forearms. His hair is tousled and his tie is undone and he looks as delicious as this meal.

His eyes are smiling at me, even as his mouth smirks. “You like being ridiculous with me.”

“I do. Heaven help me, but I do.” I pop another bite of sherbet into my mouth and my lids flutter closed.

“So what dangerous activities are we going to do tomorrow?”

“No way.” I shake my head. “Nothing dangerous.”

“You need to get out of your comfort zone.” He points his spoon at me. “You, Lane Overton, are at risk of being boring.”

I gasp. “Say that again to my face.” I’m faking the shock, but a little part of me thinks he might be right. I might be getting boring. I might be choosing stability over the possibility of more. Sometimes you need to leap before you look, Laney. My father’s words ring in my head.

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