Page 44 of Fit for Love

Given Gala’s grimace, I wasn’t exactly subtle.But she doesn’t question why I didn’t bring my imaginary girlfriend as a plus one, and in general, she recovers quickly.

Thrusting a business card into my hand, she says, “Take this.If you and your girlfriend decide to tie the knot, I’d love to host your wedding.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.Thank you.”

She takes a step back.“I’m going to network some more.That’s what I was doing, by the way.”

“Of course.Good luck.”

She heads toward Jarrod, and my cock demands to know why the fuck I just turned down such an opportunity.I mean, we both know it was either Gala or my hand tonight—or else I won’t be able to sleep.And my cock is very tired of my hand because that’s all he’s known for the past three years.

And no.The lack of female company had nothing to do with Kendall and our way-too-memorable night together.I’ve just been busy with my business and haven’t met the right woman.

The music stops.Gala announces that she and the band are finished for the evening, and so is the open bar—but that all are welcome to hang out as long as we want.

After saying my goodbyes to the people still in the ballroom, I head to my room.The thought that is front and center on my mind for the second night in a row is that Kendall is sleeping under the same roof.She’s naked (in my fantasy at least) only a few steps away, her long legs?—

Groaning in frustration, I enter my bathroom and angrily fist my dick.

There.Maybe now I can get some sleep.

I wakeup just as the sun is beginning to rise.Despite the early hour, I feel wide awake.

Fucking great.There goes my chance to sleep in on a rare day free of business meetings and client sessions.

Oh, well.I put on a pair of boxers and go to my balcony to watch the sunrise and do a bodyweight workout, followed by some yoga and a hot shower.

Okay, so maybe waking up early wasn’t so bad.Once the sun is up all the way, I dress and head to the kitchen to rummage through the fridge for some breakfast.Then I return to my room and stalk Kendall’s social media—purely because, as Sun Tzu famously said, “Know your enemy.”

Eventually, I realize how crazy what I’m doing is, so I try to think of something else to do, something where I’m unlikely to bump into her.

The beach is out because that’s where most people are probably going to be.

Maybe a jet ski tour?

No.If I do bump into her there, she’ll be wearing a bikini, and that way lies madness.

But I like the idea of a water activity.Maybe something on a boat?And maybe where I can see some wildlife?

I do some searching until I find a winner: Swamp Sparkle Safari.

That’s it.A swamp is the last place a fashionista would want to be, but to me, this seems like a perfect way to spend the day.

In another life, I might’ve enjoyed being a survivalist, making fire by focusing the sun’s rays through a water bottle and living off roasted squirrels.

I book the tour, and the owner, Bubba, tells me I got the last of the two “coveted” spots.

Bubba,who greets me when I show up for the tour, reminds me of a swamp-dwelling version of Captain Jack Sparrow fromPirates of the Caribbean, with alligator teeth weaved into his orange dreadlocks, camo clothes, and a bull’s skull belt buckle that’s large enough to impale a cow.

“How’s your momma and em?”Bubba asks after he gives me a very thorough handshake.

“Good?”I glance at the two boats nearby.“How are things with you?”

“It’s fixin’ to be a good day,” Bubba says.“Today’s I’m gonna ask my darlin’ to be my wife.”He gestures at the hut that serves as the office of Swamp Sparkle Safari.“Just don’t tell her when she gives you your paperwork.”

At that moment, a woman comes out of the hut, holding a piece of paper.She’s wearing a dress made out of the same camo material as Bubba’s outfit, and her face is hidden by a beekeeper mask.To deter mosquitos, maybe?

“G’day, mate,” she says with an Australian accent.“Alligator Dottie is my name.Giving tours that blow your mind is my game.”She thrusts the paper into my hands.“But first, sign the waiver.”

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