Page 64 of Beachside Kisses With My Best Friend

Throughout the tour, Jordan asked insightful questions, his voice calm and steady, but I could see the thrill building in his eyes. He wants this to work—and I don’t see why it shouldn’t. Obviously we haven’t tried the tents overnight, but Mitchell has graciously provided us with one to test out tonight.

Now, as the tour finally ends, perhaps we’ll have our chance to have that conversation after all…

But then Mitchell invites us to his home, a beautiful two-story log cabin that sits on the edge of a nearby lake. Mitchell and Jordan hash out some details as we roast hot dogs and marshmallows over the fire pit.

My impatience grows, but I keep a smile pasted on.

Finally, as the sky starts to darken, Mitchell claps his hands together. “Well, it’s getting late, and I shouldn’t keep you newlyweds any longer.”

“Oh, we’re—” Jordan looks over at me for a split second, then back at Mitchell. “Thanks, man.” He reaches out, shakes the guy’s hand. “This place is great.”

“Hopefully great enough for us to work together?” Mitchell smiles, Jordan laughs, and we all stand.

“It’s a definite possibility,” Jordan says.

“Fantastic.” Mitchell stretches his lower back. “Have a good night, you two. If you need anything at all, just shoot me a text. I want your stay to be as comfortable as possible.”

Jordan glances at me again. “I think we’ve got everything we need.” He takes my hand.

I shiver at his words. At the implication there. And once again, something in my soul whispers…“you’re enough.”

Mitchell douses the fire and waves as he heads inside.

We make the quiet trek back to our assigned tent. Jordan quietly offered to ask for a second tent if I wanted my own—the resort is only half-booked, probably due to the chilly weather—but I said that would look funny for his wife to stay in her own tent.

I mean, that’s not the only reason I want to stay with him, but again… It wasn’t time for that conversation.

Now, though?

The rain from last night is nowhere to be found, and stars pepper the sky like a spicy soup. Streaky cloud wisps resemble spun cotton candy stretched out beneath the crescent moon. It’s the perfect night for stargazing.

The perfect night for love.

Ifwe have the courage to speak our truth.

We don’t spy a soul as we walk the path. Thanks to the higher elevation, I’m bundled in my red winter coat and Jordan’s in a black hoodie—not the one I stole from him. That one’s mine forever, stuffed away in my suitcase to prove it.

My teeth start to chatter, but finally, we reach our tent. Dropping my hand, Jordan kicks at a clod of dirt. “Do you want to sit out here and look at stars for a bit?”

I exhale, and my breath’s visible on the air. “It’s a little cold for me. Plus, we can see stars from inside the tent.” I tilt my head, shooting a reassuring smile his way. “Kind of the point of this place, right?”

“Right.” Humorless, he’s rigid as he opens the tent flap.

Ducking inside, I am instantly grateful for the installed heater that allows me to strip off my jacket. “Be right back, okay?”

He nods absently as he stands at the open front of the tent, looking up at the sky.

Grabbing my pajamas, I step into the bathroom and change. Not sure what I was thinking, only bringing shorts and a spaghetti strap shirt, but the big fluffy orange duvet should keep me warm tonight.

That…and hopefully, Jordan.

My bare feet pad quickly back into the main tent area. Jordan glances back at me and coughs, laughing as I jump into the bed and pull the duvet up to my neck while I sink back against the headboard. “Cold?”

“I’ll be fine.” I pause. “You gonna jammy up?”

“Jammy up? Who am I, Ryder?”

“Ha ha. Fine. Are you going to change into your pajamas?” Jordan’s normal bed wear is actually just boxers and no shirt (Ryder is a fount of information you never asked for), but since I’ve lived at his house, he wears a white undershirt and basketball shorts to bed.

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