Page 11 of Love in Bloom

When her stomach rumbled, she turned around and made her way back to the hotel. Instead of heading to the restaurant, she went to the beach stand. She was too hungry to return to her room for shoes and a change of clothes.

“Une gaufre au Nutella,s’il vous plaît.” With her waffle and a can of Orangina in hand, she settled on her beach chair under an umbrella. She’d reserved both for the week. Bless the staff member who set it up and took it down each day.

“Is that on your diet?” Tristan’s familiar voice came from behind her, and she smiled. He appeared beside her beach chair. Today he wore white swim trunks with blue whales and a blue rash guard. Camille finished chewing while she admired his figure and his smile.

“Not likely, but as I did sunrise yoga and took a walk on the beach, I think I’ve earned it.” She drew her legs up and offered him the spot at the end of her lounge chair. “Did you come to lecture me about breakfast?” She gave him a teasing smile.

“No. Actually I was thinking what a shame it was that I already ate. That waffle looks tempting.”

“They make them all day. The French do love to eat. But I don’t think that’s why you’re here.”

“Are you up for more exploration? I chatted with the concierge and was told not to miss seeing the castle. Would you like to join me?”

“Maybe.” She decided to keep Tristan dangling for a moment longer.

“If I sweeten the offer with a croissant, would that help?”

Camille laughed. “Possibly.”

“Would a picnic lunch clinch it?”

“Definitely.”

“Care for a swim first?”

“You read my mind.” Camille licked the Nutella from her fingers and stripped her shirt and yoga pants off to reveal her green swim costume. She stretched her arms over her head and felt Tristan’s gaze. “Are you going to take off your shirt?”

He looked away. “I burn easily.”

Something in his voice caught her attention. That wasn’t all the truth, but she decided not to press the issue. After all, if he wanted to keep his shirt on, that was his business.

They walked side-by-side to the water, and Camille was more conscious of the body heat of the man next to her than the temperature of the sand. The water licked her toes, and she sighed.

“Scared of the water?” Tristan inquired.

“Never.”

“Good.” He whisked her off her feet, into his arms, and plunged them into the aqua blue.

“Tristan,” she laughingly protested. He ducked them under a wave, and back above the water released her. She spread her arms wide over the top of the water, inhaled deeply, and swung her legs up to float on the surface. His fingers brushed hers, and she flipped over to tread water. “When does the castle tour begin?”

“We can go anytime. I didn’t book a tour. I thought we’d be spontaneous,” he teased. “Though we will need to decide how to ascend the hill to reach the castle.”

“What are the options?”

He raised a brow. “Did you not do any research about which beachside town to hang out in on the French Riviera?”

Camille ducked her head. “I was too put out about my banishment to care where I was going,” she confessed. “Maddie’s friend Rose recommended this place, and here I am.”

“The queen of research and planning can be spontaneous. Who knew?” He grinned.

She splashed him and swam away before he could splash back. He chased her, and they played tag in the water until Camille was breathing hard. “Enough, you win.” She held her hands up in surrender and then paddled toward the beach. They let the tide return them to the sand and the waiting beach chairs under the umbrella.

“Looks like the rental staff honored my request,” Tristan remarked as he flopped into the beach chair beside hers. He grabbed a towel from the back of the chair and rubbed the saltwater off his face.

“What request?” Camille dried her face and hair. She twisted her blonde strands into a knot at the nape of her neck before sinking into her chair.

“To set me up next to you. I hope you don’t mind.”

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