Page 105 of Champagne Fizz

“No seriously,” I press, brushing the sand from my towel. “If wedding planning didn’t work out, what would you do?”

“You don’t think I can hack it as a wedding planner?”

That comment comes out too sharply, and I know I’ve struck a nerve. For all of Kendall’s Sue Blade I-am-girl-boss-hear-me-roar antics, I’m surprised every time her vulnerability shines through when it comes to her business.

“That’s not what I mean,” I explain. “You’re going to rock this wedding and it will change our lives. I mean hypothetically as a game if you had to do life over again. What would you do instead?”

“Is this like choosing my drink at Mason’s bar?” she questions. “Will this give you insight into my complex nature?”

“No, it will only tell me your preferred sexual position.”

“What?!”

“Oh wait, that’s what Mason’s drink menu will do.”

“Are you serious?!” Kendall rolls to her side to look at me incredulously. “Is that what you were really asking me when you wanted to know my drink preference?”

“You did pick a virgin pina colada,” I reply.

Kendall bristles, pink flushing between her breasts. “I think you mean a virgin Pina Goes in Your Lada!” she corrects.

“Basically, any position will do?” I interpret, laughing as she falls back on her towel with a huff. How did we end up talking about sex again? Oh right, everything about her is charged. I can’t get my damn head out of the gutter … ever.

“To answer your previous question,” Kendall says, desperately trying to get us back on track, “maybe I’d plan corporate events.”

Only she stretches as she says that, rising her arms above her head and arching her back in an overtly sexual move—a move she’s clearly unconscious of—and I have to bury my hands in the sand to keep from dragging that gorgeous body against mine. Curse the ages, that yellow bikini is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.

“Or I could get Becca to give me a job at the florist shop,” she continues, unaware of her effect on me.

“Those sound exactly like wedding planning,” I reply, staring at the speckles of sand that dot her stomach, begging for me to brush them off.

“I guess when you know what you want to do, you can’t imagine anything else,” she says, still arching like a feline.

I can’t imagine anything other than my hands all over her body.

We’ve been lounging for more than an hour, and I haven’t touched her once. Not that I deserve a medal or anything, it’s common decency. But like I said … she’s addicting.

“What about you?” Kendall asks, lowering her arms and turning on her side to face me. The sun lights the curve of her hip in a blaze that Olivia and all the other painters of the world would salivate to capture. “Pretend Flambé doesn’t exist. What’s your next step?”

“Build another one,” I say without thinking. “A bigger one. A better one.”

“See,” she giggles, “when you know what you want, you know.”

My eyes trace down her body and I have to agree, when you know what you want ...

“That’s not what I meant,” Kendall chides, rolling away from me.

I’m starting to wonder if the pink in her skin is a permanent flush or if she’s actually getting sunburnt. Nevertheless, I want to roll over and kiss every inch that’s touched with sun.

“This bigger, better one,” Kendall continues. “Would it be another restaurant or something else? Would you create it with Arie? Or on your own?”

“If Flambé failed, Arie would castrate me and kick me out of her life so …”

“Shedoesseem like the type to hold grudges.”

“Grudge is the tame word for it.”

“What if it was her fault?” Kendall asks. “What ifshe’sthe reason you failed?”

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