Page 44 of Wilde Nights in Paradise

“Very manly,” she said and patted his hand.

“All right, you got me. I have a small phobia when it comes to spiders.” He removed her hand from his and pointed to an oblong scar on the back of his right hand between his thumb and forefinger. Indented like a shallow crater and puckered around the edges, she remembered she used to rub her thumb over that scar whenever they held hands.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You told me one of your brothers bit you during a fight.”

“It was a better story than getting bit by a spider when I was eight and having a bad reaction,” he admitted. “I ended up in the hospital for a week with the skin on my hand split open to the bone.”

She winced at that gruesome mental image. For an eight-year-old, it must have been terrifying. “What kind of spider does that much damage?”

“The doctors thought it was a brown recluse, but we never found the spider to know for sure. Ever since…” He shuddered. “No thanks. I’ll take my chances with iguanas over spiders any day.”

“Fair enough,” she said with a smile and sipped her wine. “I’ll be your spider slayer if you keep all reptiles far away from me.”

He reached over their picnic to shake her hand. “Deal. Now dig in. I have more planned for today.”

“I can’t wait.” She’d meant it as a sarcastic remark, but it hadn’t come out sounding like one, and it was the truth—shewasintrigued to see what he had up his sleeve next.

She watched him dig into the pasta salad with relish and decided on some of the melon slices to go with her own sandwich. As she ate, she mused over how little she actually knew about the man seated across from her attacking his lunch with all the grace of a ravenous animal. She’d dated him for a whole year, and she’d never known about his spider phobia. Made her wonder what else she didn’t know about him.

He finished eating before she was even halfway through her sandwich and lounged back on one elbow, his wineglass still in hand. He released a contented sigh and stared out over the ocean. “I could sit here all day.”

She followed his gaze over the glittering stretch of paradise laid out before them like a feast for their eyes alone. “It’s so quiet here. Peaceful.”

“Mmm.”

“I can almost pretend I really am on vacation instead of hiding out from some crazy stalker.”

“No.” He held up a finger. “We’re not discussing that. Weareon vacation today.”

“Thank you.”

“Why are you thanking me? This is all purely for selfish reasons. I was going stir-crazy and needed out of that house.”

“I think we both needed this. I mean, we fought over a sock like an old married couple.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she wished she could recall them, but Jude seemed not to notice how awkward those words were. Or maybe he just chose to ignore it.

Ignoring it worked for her. She gulped the rest of her wine. Yes, ignoring worked just fine for her.

In a surge, Jude sat up and started packing his garbage into the picnic basket.

“Where are you going?” she asked when he stood and grabbed his pack.

“The dock.”

“What about all this?” She waved a hand at the remnants of their picnic.

“The charter company will clean it all up. It’s what they do.” He held out a hand and wiggled his fingers. “So how about it? Ready for our next adventure?”

“Probably not.” She popped one more slice of melon in her mouth before accepting his hand. “But someone has to keep you out of trouble.”

And there it was, that quick, rabble-inducing grin again. “Aw, babe,” he said and pulled her to her feet. “Impossible task. Trouble and me, we go way back.”

Chapter Seventeen

“You want me to balance onthat?” Standing on the dock in her swimsuit with her arms crossed over her chest, Libby stared at the rented paddleboard like it was a cousin of her dreaded iguana. “Um, no. I don’t think so. Have you met me? I trip over my own feet on a daily basis.”

Jude laughed. She was adorable when she stared at him like he was insane. “It’ll be fun.”

“Says the man who thinks near death experiences are fun.”

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