Page 80 of A Very Happy Easter

My sandcastle was more of a hobbit house. Heath had managed towers and a moat, but unfortunately, he’d made the ramparts out of crackers left over from lunch, and the seagull saw a snack opportunity.

The bird swooped again, and Heath made a grab for me as I tripped over the bucket. Never underestimate my capacity for clumsiness. He twisted as we fell, and I landed on top of him as we flattened the hobbit house. Awww.

“Now we know why the three little pigs didn’t build a house out of sand,” I muttered as Heath rolled us off the mound. I sat up, straddling him, and shook half the beach out of my hair. My hands rested on his chest; his were on my hips. And between my ass cheeks, I could feel… Oh, hell. I swallowed hard and froze. Heath didn’t move a muscle either, his gaze locked on mine. This wasn’t a position I’d ever expected to find myself in, and I was proud that I didn’t begin hyperventilating. I moved a fraction, and Heath groaned. Was that good? Bad? Twenty-nine years old, and while I was intimately familiar with every setting on my vibrator, I barely had a clue how a real live man worked. I mean, apart from the accountant-related disaster, I’d only been with boys, and Heath was so much more.

Sex was obviously a terrible idea, anyway. Freaking out in the aftermath of an attempted mugging was one thing; having a panic attack in bed with a man I cared deeply for would be mortifying.

Suddenly, Heath knifed up, and I gasped.

“What the—?” I couldn’t deny I was on edge this week. Not only due to Neil, but also because a female tourist had been murdered on one of the islands a few days ago. The crime rates in San Gallicano were generally low, and her death had everyone spooked. The male regulars from Roots were offering to walk home any woman who wanted an escort. “What’s going on?”

Laughter drifted across from the water, but I couldn’t see who was there.

“A couple of paddleboarders,” Heath supplied. “And your, uh… Edie, check your bikini.”

Today, I was wearing the tiny triangles, and I gasped again when I realised one of my boobs had escaped.

“Shit!” I squeaked as Heath started laughing. “It’s not funny.”

He straightened his face for a second. Just one second. “I think we should do wine and sandcastles every day.”

I cupped his face in my hands. “You’re such a…a man.”

“Under the circumstances, is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“Right now, I’m not sure.”

He closed his eyes, his breathing ragged. His dick twitched. I could lean forward and brush my lips across his, just a tiny taste. But then everything between us would change. There would be no rewind, no do-over. And I wasn’t sure?—

Heath’s phone rang, and he cursed under his breath. “That’s Emmy.”

I stiffened. “Neil?”

I made myself decent as Heath took his phone out of his pocket. It quickly became apparent there was a problem. The colour drained out of Heath’s face, and he gripped my hand as he spoke.

“Right, we’ll sit tight. Everything’s quiet here.” A pause. “Of course, let me know.”

He hung up, and before I could speak, he said, “Not Neil.”

“Then what happened?”

“An incident on Valentine Cay. Emmy said the news will filter out soon, and we should remain vigilant.”

“What kind of incident? Another murder?”

“A shooting. She didn’t go into the details, but she did say it was a targeted incident, and she’s on her way here with a team.”

“Do you need to go and help?”

“Blackwood is still contracted to provide your protection services, so I stay with you unless there’s a life-and-death situation elsewhere.”

“Are we safe? Should we go home?”

“Valentine Cay is five hours away by boat. We’re out of the way here. If I thought you were at risk, we’d already be on our way to the airport.” Heath stood, lifting me with him. “Let’s head inside.”

He gripped my hand, but my knees still trembled as we walked up the beach.

The noise outside didn’t wake me—I couldn’t sleep anyway—but the clatter did send me leaping out of bed. Heath slept with his door open. He’d told me if I was worried about anything, I should holler right away, except it turned out there was no point. His bed was empty.

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