Page 61 of Love JD

I sighed through my nose, and keeping a hand at the small of her back, I shook my head. “The way everyone is taking pictures and watching us, I’m thinking that kiss is convincing enough tabloid fodder. We should be good.”

Isla froze up like a mannequin strung up with steel wire. “Tabloids?” Her gaze panned around the mall, taking in the clicking phones and overt paparazzi who weren’t even trying to hide their enormous, black lenses. “Oh no.”

“What did you think would happen?” I asked with a trace of amusement.

“I don’t know.” Caramel eyes flew back to mine. “I wasn’t really thinking about it.” Her cheeks had gone white, and I noticed the way her chest rose and fell in a fast, irregular rhythm.

I frowned in concern. “Isla, hey, it’s alright. We can—oh hell.”

Isla’s eyes rolled back in her head, and I swiftly tightened my hold on her limp body as she fainted. The crowd gasped, and I cradled her into my chest to shield her from the worst of the curious cameras. Although, I was pretty sure they’d gotten plenty of good footage of Isla spontaneously fainting at this point. With an official statement from Tristan, it would hopefully get them to shut the hell up about her.

Isla came around quickly, blinking fast but finding her footing sluggishly. I skimmed a kiss on her cheekbone. “Sorry. Welcome back.”

It took her a few seconds to catch up. Then she hooked me with a look of consternation. “That was your fault.”

“I meant to make you faint the first time,” I pointed out. “Not after.”

A blush suffused her cheeks, and she struggled to look indifferent. “I think it was just the lack of food.”

“Sure, it was. Do you want pizza?”

Isla gave me a grumbling glare. “How did you know I like pizza?”

I squeezed her against my body. “Because you like anything.”

“I did say that,” she admitted.

“See? I’m not always a terrible lawyer.”

She bit her lip and smiled. I didn’t tell her that I was pretty sure everything she’d ever said was already tattooed in my brain with disgustingly cute cursive handwriting and little hearts over the Is.

Chapter twenty

Isla

Zev didn’t tell me where we were going after lunch. He said it was his way of saying sorry for causing me grief and I would just have to wait and see for myself. We only drove for a few miles before the city shifted, melting away to a neighborhood and then to pink and green trees crowded together and ushering us into a state park. I sat up straighter, staring intently as the scenery unfolded like a pop-up book unfurling its colors.

Before Zev could even finish parking, I had my seatbelt off and my fingers on the handle as I took in the cherry blossoms.

Zev put the car in park. “Hang on, don’t just—”

I surged forward, opening the door and rushing across the parking lot. Pink and white exploded everywhere, floating and swaying like a vibrant summer sunset. Many of the trees had gone past their peak bloom and had shed their petals, and verdant green interspersed the cotton candy pink puffs. But to me, they were stunning. Glorious.

I rushed across the pavement and found a path just off the grassy field. It wove through the trees, which reached blushing arms over our heads and gently dropped pink petals like stray thoughts. I inhaled deeply, closing my eyes and letting the smell of soil, fresh cherry blossom petals, and mown grass fill my senses.

Zev stood behind me, clasping my upper arms gently. “They’re a little past their prime,” he said with an apology in the words.

I shook my head, eyes still closed. “They’re perfect.”

“You’re not going to climb them, are you?”

I opened my eyes to glare at him reproachfully. He gave me an unapologetic grin and took my hand in his like it was the most natural thing. He’d done that since we’d met—like it didn’t make his heart want to explode. Mine wanted to. But I let him lead me through the park, and I pointed out species I already knew. “And no,” I finished after pointing out the trees I knew, “I’m not going to climb them. Lichen won’t grow much here, anyway.”

“Alright, I’ll bite,” Zev said, his voice low and rumbling. “Why won’t lichen grow in Denver?”

“It’s too polluted,” I murmured. “That’s not to say it’s not here,” I added hastily. “There are pollutant-resistant species, and lichen is notoriously hardy. But the reason I find it so fascinating is that it’s like a pool test strip but for air purity. We can tell how healthy the air is based on what kind of lichen are growing, or if any grow at all.” I felt myself rev up with excitement as I thought about it. “And the evolution of the lichen itself is so amazing. It adapts really fast.”

Zev’s eyebrows rose higher with each breathlessly excited statement, and a smile crept up his face as he watched me with quiet amusement. When I finished, he turned forward, clearly fighting a laugh. “I never thought I’d feel jealous over a fungus.”

---