Page 60 of King of Greed

“You matter,” I said. “Always.”

She was theonlyperson who’d ever truly mattered. Even if she didn’t love me anymore, even if all my efforts to win her back failed, she would always be the sun anchoring my universe.

Alessandra’s eyes glossed. She quickly looked away, but a telltale hitch disrupted her otherwise bright voice. “Well, that’senough heavy talk for today. It’s not even noon, and we have a lot of stalls to get through before the boating trip.”

We stuck with safe topics for the rest of the morning—sports, food, the weather. But I never forgot the look on Alessandra’s face when she’d explained why she’d opened Floria Designs.

After we exhausted the market, we ate lunch at a nearby oyster bar (since she’d picked breakfast, I picked lunch) and made our way to the canoe rental. Alessandra and I had gone canoeing during our honeymoon, and I thought it’d be a nice throwback to happier days.

We were good together once. We could be good together again.

Unfortunately, neither of us had gone canoeing in years, and our skills were…rusty, to say the least.

“Maybe this wasn’t the best idea,” Alessandra said as the boat wobbled. She glanced around us with trepidation. The nearest boaters were mere pinpricks in the distance. “We should’ve asked for a guide.”

“We don’t need a guide.” I shifted, the canoe rocking with my movement. “We’re perfectly capable of maneuvering a little wooden boat.”

She glanced back at me. “Is this another one of those man things? Like how you guys refuse to ask for directions when you’re lost, but now you’re refusing to ask for help when you’re in danger of tipping over.”

“We’re in the middle of a lagoon,” I pointed out. “The time for a guide has long passed.” Besides, I wanted Alessandra to myself; I didn’t want a random third wheel ruining our date. “Trust me. It’ll be fine.”

“If you say so.” She sounded doubtful.

Despite her misgivings, our canoe steadied the farther we went. My tension eased, and I settled back to enjoy our surroundings. I understood why Alessandra loved Florianópolis so much. It was—

“Oh my God!” She gasped. “Is that a dolphin?”

“I don’t think there are—Ále, no!” It was too late. She twisted her body to the right, and the canoe tipped over, dumping us into the cold water.

Her scream and my curse warped the peaceful air. Then water closed in overhead, and all was silent until we resurfaced with a chorus of coughs and splutters. Luckily, we’d dislodged ourselves during the fall and avoided getting trapped under the boat, but treading water in the middle of a fucking lagoon hadn’t been part of my game plan.

I let out another, more colorful curse.

I glanced at Alessandra, whose shoulders shook as she covered her face.

Alarm edged out my annoyance. “What is it? Are you hurt?” Had she hit her head on her way down? It would take a while to right the canoe, and we were at least—

A familiar sound leaked between her fingers. Was she…laughing?

She removed her hands from her face. No, she wasn’t laughing. She was fuckinghowlingto the point where her laughter no longer made a sound.

“I’m fine,” she gasped, tears of mirth filling her eyes. “I just… you look like…”

I narrowed my eyes even as my mouth twitched. I didn’t find our situation particularly funny, but it was impossible to see her smile and not want to smile too. “Like what? A dolphin?” I asked pointedly.

“No,” she said with zero apology. “You look like a drowned rat.”

Shock submerged me more thoroughly than the water when we’d tipped over. “I sure as fuck don’t.”

“I’m sorry, but you do.” Alessandra’s laughter finally subsided,but amusement lingered on her face. “You can’t see yourself. I can, so my observation carries more— ” She squealed when a splash of water hit her in the face. She wiped the droplets from her eyes and stared at me. “Did you justsplashme?”

I shrugged. “It was an accident.”

The words had barely left my mouth before she retaliated, and we ended up in a splashing war. Laughter and shrieks filled the air.

We were acting like children let loose on the beach, and I could barely breathe past her watery assaults, but there was something exhilarating about not giving a shit. It didn’t matter that we were acting silly and immature; it was fucking fun.

By the time we called a truce, we were so drenched we looked like we’d taken a shower in our clothes. Twice.

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