Page 89 of Nothing to Do

“I’m worried about you.” He squeezed her leg. “I need to know you’re okay.”

“It’s only my ankle. The rest of me still works.”

That loosened him up a little. When a smile lit his eyes, she could’ve just won a marathon for the joy it gave her.

“I know how you love the sand.” His caress went from one leg to the other and back. She slid a little lower, giving him more intimate access. “The feel of it between your toes.”

And for the first time that night, a little concern speared her too. “God, and if they give me some kind of cast—”

“Thought it was just a sprain,” he said like he’d caught her out, one brow rising. “Whatever it is, baby, we have to get it checked.”

“It’ll be okay and—”

“Do you want to come back to the island?”

“Right now?” she asked. “If there’s a flight…” The moment she said it, she shook her head. “You know what I mean. Yes, I want to come back. I’ve been gone less than a day and I miss it already.”

“What if I take you back and your ankle’s not fine? What if you fall or it gets worse?”

“Then you have an excuse to keep me in bed.” And away went his smile. “I suppose I can always work from bed. Maybe I’ll ask Roxie to help me pitch a tent on the beach by the corporate suite, then I can sleep and work right there by the waves.”

“You could do that, but pitching a tent on sand takes skill. Roxie isn’t the outdoorsy type.”

“Hmm, yes, if only there was a strong, attractive man who could keep me so busy in his sheets that I don’t have time to do anything other than him.”

“No sex until we know what this is.”

Even if her ankle was broken, it shouldn’t… No, he was right, she’d said it was a sprain, it was a sprain. If she’d known a visit to the hospital was the only way to get back on the island, she may not have been as resistant. Okay, it was understandable he didn’t want her to suffer or need help while they were far from any kind of official medical facility. Still, it might’ve been nice to live in the dream for a while.

“You are pissed.”

“I’m not pissed,” he said and picked up her hand to kiss her fingers. “I’m sorry, just when we got the call you were hurt and—I needed to be with you. If I’d got that call on the island…”

“But you didn’t. Roxie and Tripp took care of me. I told them they didn’t have to leave the club, that they should stay and have fun, or go back—”

“They live in nightclubs.” She laughed. “What?” He was frowning again. “Cutting out on one night won’t slow them down.”

“That’s pretty much what they said,” she whispered on a sigh, her eyes growing heavy. “I’ve had a good time in Honolulu.”

“You wouldn’t mind visiting again?”

“I’d prefer it just be a stop on my road to somewhere else.” Her eyelids rose. To her delight, his frown was gone. “I told Roxie we’ll keep seeing each other.”

“Well, babe, she lives in New York. Traveling to see her takes you further from me.”

“I meant you and me,” she said, sensing his tease. Though that wasn’t something she’d considered. “Do you see her a lot?”

“Roxie? Here and there.”

“I’ll miss her.”

“She won’t go far, or she won’t go far for long anyway. Any time she’s not at a nightclub, she’s usually on a plane to somewhere. Her and Roux, my brother’s wife, they’re sort of going into business together.”

“Sort of?”

“Roux is Head of Operations for Huddle Hope, an offshoot project from Huddle, the social media platform. It will give greater access to support and therapies to those in need, for mental health issues, trauma, that kind of thing.”

“Wow,” she said, shifting, suddenly not so asleep. “That’s a good cause.”

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