Page 127 of Triplet Trouble For My Billionaire Boss

He huffs out a quiet laugh, glancing down at me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. You always seem... preoccupied back home. Like your mind is always somewhere else.”

He doesn’t respond immediately, just watches the waves as Robbie lets out another triumphant roar. Finally, he says, “Maybe that’s because it usually is.”

There’s something in his voice—something that makes my chest tighten just a little.

He’s not joking. He really has spent the last however many years living with his mind half-elsewhere, buried in work, in responsibility, in the weight of everything on his shoulders.

But here? Here, he’s different.

And I realize, suddenly, that I like this version of him. The one who’s present, who laughs when his son plays in the water, who looks at me with something unreadable in his eyes and makes my stomach flip in a way that has nothing to do with nausea.

I shake off the thought before it can settle. “Well,” I say, nudging him lightly, “if you need help figuring out how to vacation properly, I happen to be an expert.”

His lips twitch. “Oh, really?”

“Absolutely.” I gesture broadly to the ocean. “First rule: you’re not allowed to think about work. At all.”

His brow lifts. “Not even a little?”

“Nope,” I say firmly. “No work emails. No checking your phone every ten minutes. No calls with your assistant. Just relaxation.”

He huffs out a breath, tilting his head slightly. “And what else does this ‘expert’ recommend?”

“Well.” I pretend to think about it, tapping a finger against my chin. “Lots of swimming, obviously. Beach walks at sunset. Plenty of snacks.” I pause, then smirk. “And drinks. With little umbrellas in them.”

Cole chuckles, shaking his head. “You and the damn umbrelladrinks.”

“I will die on this hill.” I grin up at him. “They’re an essential part of any vacation.”

He watches me for a beat, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes again. Then, after a moment, he shakes his head and mutters, “I’ll see what I can do.”

It’s not much, but it makes my stomach flip all over again.

Robbie splashes toward us then, excitement written all over his face. “Come swim with me!” he says, grabbing my hand.

I hesitate, my stomach still unsettled, but I don’t want to say no.

Cole must notice, though, because he glances down at me and murmurs, “You don’t have to if you’re not feeling well.”

I glance up at him, then back at Robbie, and smile. “I’ll wade in for a bit,” I say, squeezing Robbie’s hand. “But I might just float instead of swim.”

Robbie seems satisfied with that, and within moments, we’re both wading deeper into the ocean. The water is warm, crystal-clear, and I let out a content sigh as I sink into it, letting the waves carry me just slightly.

Maybe I’m not feeling a hundred percent. Maybe my stomach is still a little off.

But I feel light. Happy.

And if I can hold onto that for the rest of this trip, I’ll consider it a success.

Chapter Thirty One

Cole

The sky deepens into a rich indigo as the sun dips below the horizon, and reflects onto the sea.

The salty breeze carries the distant crash of waves against the shore, mingling with the warm scent of grilled seafood and citrus lingering in the air.

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