Page 49 of Beached Wedding

“Do you need anything while I’m out?” he asked.

“I’m sorry,” I said to get his attention. “I don’t know what to say about what you overheard except that Whitney’s MO is not mine.”

He didn’t pretend he didn’t know what I was talking about. He found the valet ticket and closed his wallet.

“I’d like to say you don’t have to say anything, but I think we need to say something.”

“To who?” I asked with alarm.

“Each other.”

My heart dropped about ten feet and stayed there, crushed under the elephant that had muscled its way into the room.

Oh, who was I kidding? That pachyderm had been here this whole time, pressing on both of us, using its trunk to goose places it shouldn’t.

I knew I was violently red because my face hurt as though I had the worst sunburn of my life. My whole being dripped guilt and mortification.

“Fox, if I—” I didn’t even know what to say.

“Stop.” He held up his empty hand, then ran it over his face—which had darkened with embarrassment. He squeezed the back of his neck. “I know you’re not the type to pick up the nearest warm body in search of comfort. Or use me to punish Shane. I know you’re not like that, but you are in a bad place. I want to be here for you, but we’re pretending we’re mature enough to share a room without overtones and the tones areeverywhere.” He waved at a lemon-yellow bra I’d left on the foot of the bed.

“You’re attractive, Ash. It’s not like I’ve never noticed. Sometimes I wonder if you realize how hot you are, which is a tiny bit frustrating because I’ve always wanted to tell you that and couldn’t. Now I’m saying it and...” He pressed his lips flat and lifted helpless hands. “It makes this worse.”

My stomach was tight, as though braced for a blow, but all those words had been the opposite of a punch. A caress. Swirls of taboo excitement worked through my abdomen.

I shook my head, fearful. I wanted to put the brakes on something that was rolling away uncontrolled. I stood there both humiliated at being unable to stifle my attraction toward him while I hungrily ate up his reluctant compliments. Should I tell him I thought he was hot, too? I had noticed, too. He had those wide shoulders and high cheekbones and those golden-hazeleyes that made me feel gilded in light. His abs were obscenely sexy. So was his ass.

He licked his lips and his gaze came up from where my bathing suit peeked through the eyelets of my dress. He swallowed.

I couldn’t breathe.

“I don’t mean to see you as anything but a friend and I refuse to lose you as one,” he said, voice strained but firm. “I won’t crawl into bed with my best mate’s ex, either. So we need to agree that whatever this is...” He waved between us. “…can’t happen.”

“I’m so embarrassed.” I hung my head in her hands, wanting to curl into a ball. “I’ve put you in a terrible position. I’ll move to the villa.”

“No,” he insisted gruffly. “I want you to stay here.” He was staring out the doors to the furthest point on the horizon, all the way to Asia. “I want to spend as much time as possible with you because I’m worried I won’t see you after this. Not soon, anyway.”

“Oh, Fox.” My shoulders fell and so did the corners of my mouth.

“Yeah,” he said heavily. “You don’t realize how much someone means to you until they’re in a different time zone. I’ve missed you,” he admitted sheepishly, then chuckled. “So do the neighbors. They keep asking if you can feed their cat when they want to go away for the weekend. And the kids at the shop.” He was grinning, but it was kind of melancholy. “People come in and ask for you. That rep who likes you so much. The one who also thinks you’re hot.”

Also.

“He only flirted with me because I was the owner’s girlfriend.”

“And there it is.” Fox shook his head in exasperation. “I swear that wanker sat in his car for ten minutes, checking his teeth and retying his tie, before he came last month. I thought he was going to cry when I told him you’d gone back to Canada.”

“Pull the other one.” I offered my ankle.

“But you still think he wantedShane’sattention. You’re not hard to look at, Ash. You have a great laugh and you’re kind and patient and smart. Any man would have a crush on you.” He cleared his throat. “Which isn’t what this is. It’s just...” He ran his hand over his face.

What?

I couldn’t bring myself to ask, afraid of the answer. Afraid I would have to start labeling my own thoughts and feelings and petty disdain for women who had thrown themselves at him when he’d only been trying to help them buy a wetsuit.

I wanted the floor to open up. I wanted to pack and leave and not have to face him. I wanted to stay right here and not miss a second of the time I had with him, even when it was agonizingly awkward.

“I missed you, too,” I admitted, relieved to have that much off my chest, even though it caused a wide river of what-ifs to open between us. Impossible possibilities we could never explore.

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