Page 116 of On The Rocks

“I’m good.”

“Thanks, Griffin.” She gave my hand a quick squeeze.

I simply nodded, then I braced for the landing. Definitely not my favorite part of a flight. Lennon was cool as a damn cucumber.

She reached over and covered my hand that was Velcroed to the arm of my seat.

I closed my eyes when the wheels touched down and flipped my hand around to lace my fingers with hers as we bounced once and then smoothly decreased speed. “Nothing bothers you, does it?”

Lennon laughed. “I fly a lot.”

“So do—well, did I.”

“Baby,” she said, but she did give me one last squeeze before detangling our fingers to get our bags together.

I’d rented a car for us already, and it was ready when we deplaned. When she saw the car in the spot, she gave me a delighted laugh. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

The locks chirped open on the sleek Mustang. “Only convertible they had.”

She trailed her fingers over the cherry red color. “Works for me. Can I drive?”

“No.”

“Oh, c’mon.”

“Nope, you can enjoy the ride. Princess treatment for the next few days.”

“Fine.” But she didn’t really sound upset about it.

I loaded our bags into the trunk and put the address into the GPS for our hotel for the next few days. It was near dinner time and the air got thicker the closer we got to the ocean.

When I turned onto the road for our hotel, she whipped her head toward me. “You didn’t.”

“Princess treatment.” I pulled up to the valet and got out.

“Mr. St. James. Welcome to The Setai. I’ll have your bags brought up to your room.”

Another valet had opened the door for Lennon. She gave me a stern look as she hurried around the front of the car. “You could have told me.”

“Better seeing that look on your face.”

“And I wouldn’t have worn cutoffs and a ripped sweatshirt,” she muttered under her breath.

“Who cares? Every man is staring at you and wishes they were me.”

She shoved me, but she couldn’t hide the smile as we went to the front desk. The concierge didn’t blink an eye at our appearance, and we were on our way into an express elevator for the ocean view suites. Living at the orchard didn’t give me much opportunity to remind Lennon I had money.

It didn’t overly matter to me, mostly because I’d left behind the struggling days a long time ago.

I opened the door with our keycard and our bags were already inside. I let Lennon go ahead of me and she gasped as she hurried to the windows, then she opened the back door to our private deck and dropped her bag on one of the chaise lounges. I tossed my wallet and card on the table as I followed.

My tongue practically rolled out, cartoon-style as she whipped off her sweatshirt to show off she already had her bikini on. She was leaning on the railing, looking out on the ocean when I moved out behind her, resting my hands on the railing on either side of her. I brushed my nose along her neck. “You steal my breath on a regular basis, but here?” I drifted down to the sensitive skin between her shoulder and neck. “You deserve all this and more.”

She leaned back against me. “I don’t need this,” she said as she looked up at me, “but I don’t mind the princess treatment sometimes.”

I trailed my fingers across her midriff and up to the scrap of a triangle over her breast. “I’m not sure I can handle you in public wearing this.”

“Wait til you see the bronze one.” She sucked in a breath as I snuck under the black material and groaned when I tugged on her nipple.

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