Page 35 of On The Beach

"You mean besides Franco?"

"Yeah, I mean besides him."

He cleared his throat. "And Cato?"

"Mick?"

He shrugged. "No."

Figured. Okay, so this was a holiday slash island romance, and it wasn't serious. There was no chance for it to become serious. I mean, look at Mick. He wasn't the kind of guy whowas going to hook up long-term with someone like me. I didn't know how to have fun until I was drunk—and I didn't get drunk very often. And Mick only knew how to have fun—which was great when you were on an island but not so great if you had to, you know,livewith someone.

For the sake of everything holy, Belle. He wants to fuck you six ways to Sunday, not marry you, so stop being an anal moron and just take the win. He's handsome as sin, good in bed, and you've never had this much fun in your life before.

Mick set my suitcase down and leaned against the wooden railing of the pier. "Well, Babycakes, what's the decision? 'Cause I can hear the gears in your brain crunch real fuckin' hard."

I tilted my head. "You'll make sure there's a bed?"

"Yeah."

"Cool. Then let's go."

"The shower is still not working," he warned.

"That's fine. I like the waterfall. You can wash my back."

"Guess you're stuck with me a little longer, Babycakes." A smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"Oh, don't look so smug," I huffed, but I could feel myself feeling almost euphoric.

I dropped my laptop bag and suitcase in Mick's hut without a care in the world. I should have contacted the office and my sister, but I decided that it could wait when Mick suggested that we go on a hike.

Priorities, priorities!

The hike wasn't easy.

The sun beat down on us, and the trail Mick had chosen seemed designed to test the limits of my flip-flops. Maybe I should've worn sneakers?

"Are you sure this is a trail?" I asked, ducking under a low-hanging branch. "It looks more like a jungle obstacle course."

"It's a trail. A secret one," he insisted, not even a little bitwinded as he stepped over a rock I nearly tripped on. He wasn't having a problem with his flip-flops. "And those who suffer get their just rewards."

"Who said that?"

"I did."

I cocked an eyebrow. "And you're sure this is worth it?"

"Oh, Babycakes, it's gonna knock your socks off, and you're not even wearing any."

After what felt like a never-ending trek through twisting trails and climbing over rocks, we finally broke through a thick line of palm trees.

Mick had brought me to a hidden cove sheltered by cliffs on three sides. The sand was so white it almost hurt to look at it in the midday sun. The water sparkled in every shade of blue and green, lapping gently against the shore.

"Alright," I admitted, out of breath and more than a little sweaty. "This was worth not just the hike but not being able to leave the island."

He grinned, setting down his backpack on the sand. "Told ya. Welcome to paradise."

As he pulled a big towel out of his backpack and spread it out on the sand, I felt a rush of warmth that had nothing to do with the sun. He'd packed a picnic: fresh tropical fruits, a bottle of wine, a little container of sandwiches, and a couple of cookies.

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