Page 61 of Marriage is a Shore Thing
“Yes.” My own lips soften into a grin.
“You’re sure?”
I roll my eyes. “On second thought—"
“Nope. Too late. You said yes.” His palms frame my face for a quick kiss before he carefully gets out of the cab without jostling my ankle.
“I need pain meds,” I shout as Van practically sprints in front of the truck to the passenger side.
“You got it,” he says, tugging my door open and giving me double finger guns.
He’s so effervescent, and it’s such a goofy, unexpected gesture, the giggle tumbling out of me has a life of its own. Immediately, I slap my hand over my mouth. We both pause, staring at each other as wind swirls into the truck.
“Geneva Cecila Bradford.” Van’s tone is positively wicked as he leans forward, arms bracing the truck door. The stance accentuates his strong chest to a distracting degree, especially since he’s wearing a fitted white t-shirt today. “Did you justgiggle?”
I shake my head, my palm still over my lips.
The slow way the corner of his mouth tips up sends heat shooting over my collarbones and down my arms. I feel deliciously caged and cherished and desired. It’s a heady sensation, making my muscles tense sequentially in anticipation.
Before he can lean any farther, the front door to my house swings open, bright light pouring into the truck cab. Silhouetted in the warm glow, Vivian gives an energetic wave.
“To be continued,” Van whispers against my temple before picking me up and carrying me into the house.
twenty-six
Geneva
Not more than ten minutes later, we’re settled around my overflowing coffee table. An impressive charcuterie board takes up most of the left side with several printed pages of a house’s floorplan interspaced between glasses of lemonade and cans of flavored seltzer water. Van has me closest to the food with fresh ice on my ankle. It’s propped on his lap while Vivian, Finn, Brynn, and Noah sit in mismatched chairs around the far side of the table.
“These were on the developer’s website for the neighborhood, and based on the photos on Zillow and Google Maps, I think Henry’s house might have this same floorplan.” Brynn points a highlighter to the center of a printed page.
“Stacy told Mom that he has the ring in the desk drawer of the study off the main entry.” Noah leans forward to gesture to another page, accidentally brushing Brynn’s forearm.
The two of them snap back in their seats—his hand flexing, her rubbing the skin he inadvertently grazed. I’m genuinely surprised they’re sitting next to each other when they could have easily bookended Vivian’s and Finn’s chairs.
“And Joanna is not here because?” It feels weird leaving her out of this impromptu planning meeting when the idea of retrieving the ring brings her so much happiness.
“I asked her if she wanted to come, but she said something about plausible deniability about heist details since she’s already coordinating with Stacy for scheduling,” Noah tells me, leaning back in his chair to rub the front of his right shoulder.
The old injury was bothering him at class yesterday, so I gave him some modifications. When Noah stretches his arm back to work deeper into the joint, I don’t miss the way Brynn’s eyes trace the unintentional pop of his bicep before she looks pointedly at her tapping toes.
“And you all want to be a part of this?” I ask, still shocked that they want to help, that they’re even here.
Vivian’s grin is so bright it could power a small city. “Haven’t you watched those movies? You need a team, and there’s no one better than us.” She points to Brynn first. “The Getaway Driver since she struggles to stay under the speed limit.”
“They’re always too low,” Brynn grumbles, and the corner of my mouth twitches.
“The Distraction in case something goes wrong inside. Noah can ring the doorbell, cause a ruckus, and say he’s got a bone to pick with his dad.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Noah says, resting his elbows on his knees.
“Disguises, obviously.” She thumbs the center of her chest. “I think your workout clothes would be best for maneuverability, but I’ll sew you a custom black face and head covering in case you’re caught on an external camera. I can also braid your hair.You should tuck it beneath your shirt and the head covering so they have one less identifier.”
“The Backer who will get us an unmarked car to drive to and from the scene.” Vivian’s hand splays affectionately over Finn’s forearm before looking at me. “You’re The Infiltrator—the one entering the building and securingthe goods.”
I can’t help the chuckle that escapes me at her bubbly explanation.
“Oh, and he’s The Planner. The one that brought us all together.” Her smile widens as she gestures toward Van with a flourish.
