Page 89 of Runaway Bride and Prejudice

“Me?” I can’t even find words to splutter out a comeback so I scoop up water in my hands and splash it his way.

I didn’t aim, but all the water manages to hit the crotch of his shorts, instantly making him look like he wet his pants. He glances down, propping his hands on his hips. When he looks back up, the glint in his eyes has me taking a few steps back, my heart taking off at a dead sprint.

“Is this how you wanna play, Mills—dirty?”

His words, or maybe the throaty tone of his voice, makes me tremble. I’ve never been like this with anyone—embracing passion and playfulness like two sides of the same coin. It only works because the currency is trust.

The only way I’m able to be this way with Van, to be so myself, is because I trust him.

“I’ll play any way you’d like,” I tell him, my own voice a ragged whisper. “But … you’ll have to catch me first!”

I’m already running before I finish, tripping over my feet and the tangle of my wet dress. Van reaches me in seconds, hoisting me up and helicoptering me around on his shoulders until I’m gasping for breath while laughing, my damp dress sending out sprays of water.

When Van sets me on my feet again, I’m so dizzy, he has to hold me up. His rough hands cup my cheeks as he bends to kiss me again and again and again.

Light, playful kisses with him smiling against my mouth. He pulls back, thumbs sweeping my cheekbones the way he did the other night. Only now, there are no tears to wipe away.

“Is this okay?” he asks, eyes fixed on my mouth as one thumb brushes the corner.

I press a quick kiss there. “I started it.”

“And you’re under no obligation to continue,” he says. “If you were just testing the waters or if you’re feeling some kind of way about the wedding?—”

I interrupt Van with a kiss. Slow and lingering.

“This is about no one but us,” I tell him, finding his eyes but not pulling away enough to see them as more than a too-close blur. “You and me, hotshot. It has nothing to do with him or everything that happened. Other than the fact that those events led us here.”

And I’m so glad they did.

“I don’t want you to feel rushed,” Van says. “But also …” He drops his voice to a rough whisper, leaning his forehead on mine and shifting his hands from my cheeks to my neck. “This means something to me, Mills. The way I feel about you is not casual.”

My hands had been loosely curled around his waist, and I lift them now, cupping his prickly jaw in my palms.

“It’s not casual for me either. More like … monumental. And I’ll be honest—it scares me.”

“The last thing I want is to scare you.”

“It’s the good kind of fear. Like zip lining when I first stepped off the platform.”

Van smiles, and I trace his Cupid’s bow with a fingertip, dodging when he tries to nip me. “I’d prefer an analogy with fewer reptiles, please.”

“Frisky’s going to get offended at some point.”

“Frisky?”

“Your dragon. I named him.”

“You named himFrisky?Why not, like, Killer or Draco or Brutus?”

I drop one hand, tracing the lines on his skin, more visible now that I’ve ripped the button off his shirt. “He likes his name.” I switch to a baby voice. “Don’t you, Frisky? Don’t you just love your name like a good dragon? Yes, you do!”

Van growls and hoists me up again, this time throwing me over a shoulder so I’m hanging down his back. I don’t mind the view of his muscular backside as he strides across the sand.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Not sure yet.”

I lift my head, drawn by music and laughter from the wedding in the distance. With fairy lights strung up over the sand and an actual acoustic band playing beach music punctuated by the pounding waves, it’s magical.

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