Page 21 of Rating the Book Boyfriend

“Where does she work?”

“She doesn’t really. Her mother owns a high-end boutique, and she helps out there sometimes.” Riggs rubs a hand through the scruff on his jaw. “What about you? What do you like to do?”

“I like being outdoors. I love spending time at the beach. The water soothes my soul.”

His face softens at that. “The water is my favorite place to be. If I could spend every day deep-sea fishing, I’d be the happiest guy in the world.”

“Oooh, I’ve been wanting to go on a deep-sea fishing trip, but I just haven’t gotten around to it.”

Riggs takes a bite of his waffle cone and leans back in his chair, his gaze contemplative. “I have a friend with a fishing charter business. We could have our first meeting on the boat on Saturday if you want. That is, if you don’t have other plans.”

“Seriously?” I squeal, wiggling in my chair. “That would be amazing.”

He laughs and shakes his head. “I’ve never seen a woman so excited about fishing.”

“My dad took me once when we were on a family trip to Galveston, and I’ve always wanted to go back. I think I was twelve.” A thought strikes me. “Wait, how much does it cost?”

“No charge. Joe lets me use one of the boats when I want to take business clients out.”

“For real?”

“Yep. Just a warning, the owner is a little… eccentric.” Riggs lifts one dark brow at me, as if expecting me to back out.

I don’t know what that means, but I bite my bottom lip in excitement and nod. “Consider me warned.”

CHAPTER 6

Riggs

After leaving the ice cream shop and dropping Libby off at her house, I dial Lucinda. I didn’t get to see her when I arrived back in Florida last night because she goes to bed early.

“Hey, Lu,” I say when she answers.

“Riggs, hi.”

“Did you miss me?” I ask in a teasing tone.

“Sure.” A less than warm response, but I’m used to it.

“I thought I’d swing by since I haven’t seen you since last Wednesday.”

“Okay, will you bring me a coffee, pretty please?”

“Of course.”

“Do you remember my order?”

“Venti iced skinny hazelnut macchiato with sugar-free syrup, light ice, and no whip,” I recite.

“Make sure the syrup is sugar-free,” she reminds me.

A small ache throbs in my left temple, and I massage it with my thumb as I head to the local Starbucks.

Lucinda opens the door to her condo, and I lean in for her lips, but she turns her face slightly, offering her cheek, so I press a soft kiss there.

She takes her coffee, and I follow her into the living room. As always, I’m struck with a burst of minimalistic white. The lush rugs, the walls, the furniture. Everything is white, and my eyeballs beg for a splash of color.

As soon as she sets her drink down on the coffee table, I wrap my arms around her waist and lift her off her feet.

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