Page 39 of Cajuns. Love. Curves.

“You didn’t just watch it. You loved it.”

“Maybe.”

“No. You loved it. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have memorized the speech.”

“You called it the most moving death soliloquy in movie history,” she points out.

“Well, I didn’t say that. Film critics did.”

She grins at me again. “And they were right. It’s good stuff.”

I am such a goner for this woman. I’m head over ass in love with her. Once I prove to her how good we can be together, she’s going to wonder why she ever even looked at Tripp.

chapterseventeen

Cassie

Nick planned a special outing for us on our second day on the island.

By the time Nick and I make it back to Creciente Caye that night, it’s late enough that we once again missed dinner in the main palapa.

I don’t mind missing dinner with the lawyers. God knows, we share enough meals during a normal work week. And any excuse to avoid Delany’s baby bump is a reason for celebration.

And I’m sure that the excursion Nick brought me on was better than anything they did here on the island, even if it made for a long day.

First, there was an hour boat ride each direction from Creciente Caye to one of the smaller islands, Libélula Caye, where Nick’s friend Jonah, a retired SEAL, lives and works at a sea turtle research station.

While the research station is, technically, open to visitors, the average tourist rarely makes it out. It’s simply too far off the beaten path. The tour we got from Jonah went way far beyond the normal experience. We walked along the shore, monitoring the nesting sites. I got to hold and feed the baby turtles they’re rehabilitating. And Nick took me snorkeling in the protected sea grass cove, in the naturally occurring “marine nursery,” which teemed with brightly colored juvenile fish the size of quarters.

I can’t imagine a more magical experience.

Still, by the time I make it back to the resort on Creciente Caye, I’m sunburned—because no amount of sunscreen can make up for eight hours on the water—salt crusted, and exhausted.

Worst of all—and I’m woman enough to admit this—I’ve about had it with Nick.

Because, yes, the day was magical. It was amazing.

Certified once in a lifetime stuff.

You know the one thing today lacked? Nick acting like he’s my boyfriend.

Which… yeah, maybe I should have expected that.

Our agreement—which I never really agreed to in the first place—was for him to be my fake boyfriend in front of Tripp and Delany and anyone else from work.

Our amazing, perfect day took us well out of their range. Ergo, he did not have any fake boyfriend duties.

Which would have been fine.

Fine.

Except, the second we get off Jonah’s boat and he heads back to his place, we run into Chip and Delilah going for a stroll on the beach. And the second Nick sees them, he slings an arm around my waist and I’m once again pressed to his side.

His touch makes me want to scream. The disparity between how distantly friendly he’s been all day and how touchy-feely he is now is like a slap in the face.

It’s a brutal reminder that he’s actually just my friend and that he wouldn’t be touching me at all if I hadn’t needed a fake boyfriend.

The worst part is, I didn’t actually need a fake boyfriend. I could have come here all alone and I would have been fine. But now? Now that I know how amazing it feels to be pressed against Nick’s side, now that I know what it feels like to be kissed by him. Now that I’ve imagined him laying me out on that damn king-sized bed and having his way with me… now I can’t think of anything else.

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