Page 14 of The No Falling Rule
Chapter 5
Diego
Iwanted to text Mia all night—learn all her secrets, her dreams, the things that keep her up at night. But I knew she was tired, so instead of bombarding her with messages, I put my brain to better use: planning our date.
According to the wedding app, the guests are going snorkeling. Sounds like the perfect plan to spend some time under the sun, have a good lunch,and the excuse to pretend I’m part of a family gathering instead of a man completely smitten with his date.
Still, if we joined the wedding group, I’d never hear the end of it. My brothers and niece would roast me alive if they saw me all cozy and giddy over a woman I just met. I want to show Mia I’m serious before she meets my family—so when the inevitable questioning comes, she already knows where she stands with me.
The next morning, after showering and shaving, I pull on a pair of orange swim trunks and a white linen shirt. A quick tussle of my hair, sunglasses on, and keys in hand, I head out with a golf cart, ready to surprise Mia and her sister.
I make it to their bungalow in no time, the morning breeze filling my lungs with salty air. As much as I love being near the ocean, I’ve never felt this kind of anticipation before going snorkeling.
I glance at the golf cart, packed to the brim with pastries, fruit, a coffee thermos, and juice bottles. It’s not much of a spread, but I don’t want to overwhelm her. Besides, I have no clue what she eats for breakfast.
Shit. Panic flares in my chest as my brain takes off running.
What if she’s gluten intolerant? What if she doesn’t like fruit? What if she’s more of a tea person, not a coffee one?
Shit.Shit.Shit.
“What are you thinking so hard about over there?” A feminine voice snaps me out of my spiraling thoughts.
I turn toward the sound and spot the woman from yesterday’s chaos. She’s in running gear, curly hair styled in a messy bun, a towel slung around her neck. Sweat glistens on her sun-kissed skin as she wipes her face, a water bottle dangling from one hand. Mia’s sister.
“Oh, nothing,” I say with a chuckle. “I’m just second-guessing my breakfast options.” I nod toward the golf cart.
She waves me off as she heads for the bungalow. “Oh, don’t worry. My sister’s a good eater. I can already see a couple of things she’ll devour.”
“Come on,” she says. “I’m sure she’s dying to see you.”
She opens the door and calls out, “Mia, your fall guy’s here. He brought breakfast. I hope you’re ready!”
Her teasing tone eases some of my nerves, but the pounding in my chest has everything to do with the stunner I haven’t been able to stop thinking about.
I grab as much as I can from the cart and carry it inside. The bungalow’s one of our newer builds. Somehow the designer was able to achieve a fancy and cozy layout all in the same place.
On my second trip back, balancing coffee and juice, Mia sashays out of her room—and my jaw hits the floor.
The tiniest triangle of fabric struggles to cover her beautiful breasts, and her unbuttoned jean shorts tease a glimpse of her swimsuit underneath.
Fuck.Me.
“Good morning, Diego,” she says, her smile blinding.
I drag my gaze upward—eventually—and she’s even more beautiful in the daylight. Barefaced, glowing, a hint of shimmer on her cheeks. Her lips are glistening—same fruity lip gloss as last night, I’d bet—and her hair’s in two long braids over her shoulders.
The woman is a fucking walking fantasy.
“Good morning,” I manage, setting the last of the breakfast on the table before I do something stupid—like forget how to breathe.
“You look—” I start, closing the small distance between us as I reach for her hand. She threads her fingers through mine right away, and that simple touch grounds me. It tells me I’m not the only one feeling this pull between us.
“—stunning,” I finish, and her cheeks bloom the prettiest shade of pink.
She peeks up at me through her lashes, all innocent and sweet, and I’m a goner.
Pretty sure I’ve just found my purpose in life—to make Mia Martinez the happiest woman to ever exist.
