Page 53 of Beachside Kisses With My Best Friend

When she turns, her eyes glisten. “You care aboutmyopinion?”

“Why does that surprise you?”

“Because you’re the one with the business degree. You’re organized, you make good decisions. Look at you—your life is always in order. And then, there’s me, my life. My mess.”

“Stop.” I reach up to gently place a finger against her soft, smooth mouth—the mouth I dream of kissing again. It’s been more than two weeks since Frederick and Chloe’s engagement party, but my lips remember the taste of hers.

The memory sends sparks racing through me.

Her eyes widen, and the air shifts around us as it takes longer than it should for me to drop my hand.

“Lee, I need you to hear me,” I say softly, my gaze locked onto hers. “Your opinion matters more to me than anyone else’s. The way you see the world—it’s a perspective I treasure. It’s different from mine, and that makes it all the more valuable. So.” I tilt my head. “Will you come?”

Her bottom lip begins to worry between her teeth, a gesture that tightens my chest with longing. This moment is too intense, and I suddenly realize how crucial it is for us to balance this heaviness with a splash of the fun that’s always been part of our relationship. My eyes dart to the jar of chocolate sauce behind her. An idea strikes.

“Or do I need to threaten you?” I tease, reaching around her to drag the jar closer.

“Threaten me with what?”

“A good chocolate-ing, of course.”

“What?” She bursts out laughing, and it’s like music, a balm to the tension that envelops us.

Dipping my finger into the chocolate, I playfully lift it to her face, the air thick with laughter and potential. “Yep. Comply, or suffer the sweet consequences.”

Her cute little hands fly to her hips, a defiant spark dancing in her eyes. “You wouldn’t.”

“Wouldn’t I?” I wiggle the chocolate tantalizingly in front of her face.

“Jordan!” Quick as lightning, Marilee ducks from my reach, grabbing hold of the bowl of blueberries, one hand poised over the fruit as if preparing to defend herself with it.

I lick the chocolate off my finger, savoring its sweetness as it melts on my tongue. “What? At least it’s tasty.”

“Of course it is. I made it.” She sets down the berries and tilts her chin, a playful challenge glinting in her eyes, before rolling them dramatically. “And I know you. You wouldn’t waste a perfectly good sweet treat on a food fight.”

Grabbing the chocolate once more, I advance toward her, heart racing as I set the jar down behind her. The space between us closes quickly as I pin Marilee against the counter, arms locked on either side of her. “Not sure you know me as well as you think, Lee.”

“Fine, but I do know you wouldn’t want to get your clean hoodie—well, clean-ish—dirty.” She shimmies her shoulders airily, her taunt crackling in the air.

Oh, that hoodie—what a delightful distraction it’s become. Because the sight of her wearingmyclothes definitely does something to my insides.

“Easy fix.” With another mischievous grin, I unzip the hoodie with a swift motion, letting it slide off her shoulders until it falls to the ground, exposing her smooth bare arms. “Not so tough now, are we?”

Her gaze locks onto mine, a mix of laughter and shock flitting across her face, and I can’t resist. I dive into the chocolate once more, artistry taking over as I paint her face—a streak across her forehead, a swipe on both cheekbones, another playful smear along her chin.

“Jordan,” she squeals, laughter bubbling from her as she pushes against my chest, but I can tell she’s not truly trying to escape. A thrill runs through me, and I continue, letting my thumb glide down both sides of her neck, trailing along each earlobe, skating across her delicate collarbone. Goosebumps pop beneath my fingers as they explore the ridges of her shoulders and the skin of her upper arms.

Finally, I finish my masterpiece with a lively dusting of chocolate across her smiling lips.

“Done there, Picasso?”

I step back, feigning a critical examination of my work. “It needs whipped cream too, don’t you think?”

“Don’t you dare.” She raises her hands in mock seriousness. “Now, how do I look?” Her gaze holds an impish challenge that ignites something deep within me.

“Delicious.” My voice teases yet drips with sincerity.

She sputters another small laugh, that sound weaving its way into my heart. “Okay, playtime’s over. You can get it off now.”

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