Page 105 of Chasing Paradise

Hope was the most like me of all my cousins—a woman in a male-dominated field, lover of practical clothing styles, disliker of most outdoor activities.

It was a week after I recovered from my little fatigue illness.

After Wick and I had maxed out our stay at the hotel.

After packing up our things and trekking back to Miami.

Then New Jersey.

Where I slapped on cuffs with perhaps a little too much enthusiasm, climbed in the backseat of my parents’ car—them all smiles as I introduced them to Wick—and drove him to a police station to hand him over for my bounty.

As much as I’d been playing with him while I manhandled him and passed him off to the cops, my heart was crumbling at the idea of us being wrong, at the possibility that we didn’t have enough evidence, that the government wouldn’t care and would lock Wick away forever just out of spite.

Because for a few days, I heard nothing. No updates. No nothing.

But then I’d finally seen it on the news.

Wick’s uncle, his coworkers, and his “business partner” getting hauled in by the feds.

And, finally, the call while having a pizza party with my cousins from Wick’s new attorney, Rosie, telling me that all charges were being dropped against Wick, and that I could come and get him.

“No, I’m not taking him to my parents’ place.” Even if that had been where I was staying after I got back to Navesink Bank. Partly because I had no place of my own. But also because every single one of my aunts, uncles, and cousins had wanted to see me and hear my story about being “stranded” on a deserted island and being chased by assassins through an insect-riddled rainforest.

And, of course, hear all about cute capybaras, bearded monkeys, cool lizards, and a frog with butt cheeks.

“Where are you going then?” Layna, another of my cousins, asked, her long legs draped over the arm of the chair I was sitting on.

“A hotel. Temporarily. Wick had a luxury apartment overlooking the Navesink, but when he got locked up, the lease expired, so he lost it. Until we can figure out where we’re going next—”

“That’s a lot ofwe,” yet another of my cousins—the unendingly sweet, blonde-haired optimist, the heart of our little group, Gracie—piped in.

“There’s been a lot ofweever since we met,” I said, shrugging.

“You’re not moving to his island, are you?” Hope asked.

“God, no,” I said, cringing. “I mean, it’s beautiful and everything. But there’s no internet. No cable. No tacos…”

“God forbid,” Gracie said with a smile. “But you’re totally going to have the wedding there, right? I mean, you have to.”

It might have seemed wild to be thinking about things like rings and forever-afters. Still, I was doing alittleof that kind of thinking.

Yes, me, the complete opposite of a hopeless romantic, was imagining Save the Dates and vows.

That was how you knew I was head-over for the guy.

“I don’t think Isla Perdita is big enough to have half of Navesink Bank descend on it.”

“Rainforest wedding?” Gracie amended the idea. “With a remote island honeymoon. Because… that sounds perfect.”

“Lots of naked outdoors sex where no one can hear or see?” Layna piped back in. “Way better than some cruise or something.”

“Guys, we just started dating. We’re not talking about weddings and honeymoons yet,” I reminded them.

“Sure. Sure. But I remember Hope saying something like that just a few months before she was getting all engaged,” Gracie said.

“She’s not wrong,” Hope said. “And this guy has already seen you caked in mud, freaked out about bugs, hungry, uncaffeinated, scared, dirty, and sick. And he still wants in.”

“Gee, thanks,” I said, rolling my eyes.

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