He’s so freaking adorable with his sweet talk. Maybe he should write a how-to book for single men. He has this flirting thing down to a science.
“Why are you looking at me weird?”
His awkwardness only makes me smile bigger as I continue to ‘look at him weird.’
“Eden,” he threatens, “go get your fucking camera and take the stupid picture I know you want. Otherwise, we’re leaving.”
Gah, I love fucking with him. “Will you get in the picture with me?”
I may never visit the ocean again. I want to remember this moment with the man who made it happen.
“Fine, fuck it,” he clips. “Whatever it takes to make you move faster.”
“That’s my boy.” I wink, and he makes this sound like he’s not impressed with my usage of the wordboyin association with him.
I agree. He’s no boy. He’s all man.
And he’s mine.
Grabbing the Polaroid from the car, I pull Remington to the sign and ignore the hateful pout he’s sporting and shove the camera into his hands. “Press this button, but make sure you get all of the sign in the picture with us.”
He groans, acting like I’m asking him to dig a six-foot ditch in the summer heat. But he opens his arm for me to stand next to him and holds up the camera.
“Say Eve,” he teases, taking the picture just as I open my mouth.
“I didn’t even smile!” I smack his chest, pulling the instant photo from the camera.
“How is that my problem?” He grins. “You should follow directions quicker.”
“I did! You took the picture fast on purpose.”
His gaze travels down to the developing photo in my hand as the images take shape. I was wrong. My mouth wasn’t open. I was smiling just like the man next to me.
“What are you waiting for?” Remington kills the engine. “Go!”
He doesn’t need to tell me twice before I jump from the car and race across the blistering sand, heading toward the endless miles of ocean.
It’s so calm and peaceful out here—almost dreamlike.
But then I feel it—fear.
Quickly, I look behind me and see the dark lord of sarcasm freaking sprinting behind me, his eyes dancing with delight as he comes for me.
I scream, pumping my legs faster, but it’s no use. Remington scoops me up like I weigh nothing and tosses me over his shoulder. “What are you doing?”
His hand clamps down on my ass. “I changed my mind.”
Changed his mind?
Like a replay, his threat from earlier plays back in my head.“I’ll try not to drown you in the Gulf.”
This nut. “Remington!” I beat on his back, but it only makes him laugh.
“Hold your breath, love!”
It is the only warning he gives me, but it wasn’t soon enough. Salt water shoots up my nose as the undertow drags me across the sandy floor. Gasping for air, I choke as Remington pulls me up and to shallower waters.
And then something crazy happens.