Page 19 of The Wedding Deal
It was no fun to tease her if she crossed into freaked-out territory.
The plane quickly gained speed as they accelerated down the runway, and her grimace grew. Unable to help himself, he gently placed his hand over hers, readying himself for a lecture on how it wasn’t professional, and then he’d get to discover which section of the handbook it violated.
She lifted her hand and he thought,There’s the brush-off I expected. But she simply twisted her wrist so their palms met. Then she squeezed his hand so hard that if it were back in the day, taking a flight before a big game, he’d worry he wouldn’t be able to throw the football.
Since those days were long behind him, and he found he liked being her lifeline, he squeezed back. He even decided to pretend not to hear the tiny squeal she made as they lifted into the air.
Chapter Seven
The giant window in the hotel room was a huge distraction, one Charlotte was having more and more trouble not focusing on. The blue sky went on forever, water lapped the sandy shore, and the sun shone on the people who occasionally wandered past, all of them looking happy and perfectly at peace with the world.
She and Lance had worked through the flight and arrived at the opulent hotel about two hours ago, only to discover her room wasn’t quite ready yet. They’d ordered lunch and set up camp in his suite, which had a large front area and a door to the bedroom that made her feel much better about using the space as a temporary office.
Finally, she couldn’t stand it anymore. “It’s my job to make sure you get the breaks required by labor laws.”
Lance barely glanced up at her, his gaze immediately drifting back to the papers in his hands. For a second or two, she got caught up staring at the big hands and long fingers that’d wrapped around her palm as they’d been lifting off from San Antonio. She’d grabbed his hand right before landing, too. It was okay, she told herself, because she would’ve grabbed a stranger’s hand on the plane as well—had done that before.
She supposed now that she’d experienced the brush of his skin, callused from years of holding and throwing a football, it didn’t matter how many times she touched it, as long as she didn’t linger. She ripped the papers from his grasp, gripped his hand, and tugged.
He didn’t budge, the jerk.
“Come…on.” The grunt that came out as she tugged again was extra attractive, so good thing she didn’t care about being attractive for her boss. “I demand a fifteen-minute break. I’ve never touched this side of the ocean.”
“The ocean has sides?” Finally, he stopped fighting and let her pull him up.
“Totally. Only pretentious people call them coasts.”
He laughed, low and deep, and a swirl went through her gut. Since she’d noticed the accidental reaction, she forced herself to drop his hand. Mission achieved and all that, so any longer would’ve been lingering anyway, and she absolutely wasn’t going to let herself do that. To further keep herself on track, she rushed over to the patio door and slid it open. Ocean-scented air hit her, the breeze swirling her hair around her face. So much for the time she’d spent with her straightener this morning—the humidity was already bringing out the wave, and soon it’d be on the frizzy side.
“You’re lucky you’re pretty, ocean,” she mumbled.
“What?” Lance asked from right behind her, and she jumped. He’d moved faster than she realized, and apparently he didn’t make any noise when he walked. Good to know, although she wasn’t sure why, and her overactive thoughts only proved how much she needed a mini-break.
“Nothing. Come on.”
“Don’t you want to change first?”
“I’m afraid my boss would subtract the minutes from my break.”
He shook his head, but a smile spread across his face. “This from the woman who’s constantly spouting rules.”
“Not for the next fifteen minutes,” she said, unbuckling her shoes and kicking them aside. Her skirt kept her from moving as fast as she would’ve liked, but she managed to take the steps down to the beach without tripping, and then her toes were digging into the warm sand.
Stress melted off her as she inhaled the salty air, her cares and worries drifting somewhere far away, to be dealt with later. She closed her eyes and tipped her face to the sun.
She felt Lance step up next to her, and having her eyes closed made other things about him stand out. That hint of rich cedar cologne mixing in with the breeze, the way his hulking presence thinned the oxygen surrounding her—or maybe that was because she was at sea level.
Wait. Air got thinner the higher the elevation. And it wasn’t exactly a huge change from Texas. Whatever. She was sure there was some type of science to explain it.
“You can go ahead and say it,” she said, cracking open her eyes. “This was a good idea.” She craned her neck to peer up at his face. Without her shoes, he was that much taller now, practically dwarfing her like the chairs in his office. His dark hair was too short to be affected by the wind, but the sun played on the planes of his face, highlighting the slope of his nose and the way his scruff accentuated his lips.
The trick on this trip wouldn’t be ignoring the way he looked—she’d already discovered that was impossible. But more accepting he was beautiful in a rugged, devastating sort of way that made her ovaries react. The important thing was overruling them with her brain. To help with that, she put extra space between them, moving toward the frothy waves that were calling her name.
“Eep, it’s a bit cooler than I expected. Refreshing, but I have goose bumps now.” Usually she didn’t go down to the Gulf of Mexico to play in the water until the summer. “Guess I’m going to have to wiggle around to keep myself warm.” She hiked up her skirt a few inches and spun, and Lance moved closer, the hint of a smile on his lips.
The smile didn’t fully catch, though, which meant he still wasn’t letting go of his work thoughts—not getting the break they both needed. So she did what any logical person would do and kicked a stream of water at him.
He dodged out of the way, dang it, and flashed her a reprimanding look.
