Page 12 of Second Chance Vacation

“This house is really beautiful.” Gen’s awe from before in the car appears to not stop at the view of the town.

She is so cute.

Savannah grins from ear to ear as she pulls the doorway to the pool area open for us all to step outward. “There are three beds, one for Wes and me, and one for each of you…if you need it.”

A chuckle leaves Wes’s lips for the first time since we arrived in Saint-Tropez.

Gen, however, is painted with horror.

“You’re not funny,” Gen says.

At least we’re on the same page.

“I’m a little funny.”

“No.” Gen glares at her as she shifts her weight, moving back toward the French doors. She disappears into the house without another word, clearly resisting the urge to lose it on Savannah again. Silence quickly falls on the three of us, so thick that we can only hear the crashing of the waves out past the property line.

“I should uh—” I point toward the house as I shift to move toward it. I yawn, pulling my fist to my mouth to muffle the sound. As I move toward the house, a shrill scream rings through the air with what I am pretty sure are the words,Savannah, I’m going to murder you.

This can’t be good.

FIVE

GEN

“I swear—the listing said there werethreebeds.”

Savannah stares at the room in front of us, a plush king bed in the center of the otherwise-oversized bedroom. Wind flows in through the open window, causing the sheer white curtains to billow in the breeze.

“See?!” Savannah haphazardly thrusts her iPhone in my face, showing what is clear as day, a listing, showing images evidencing the existence of three beds.

“Well, I promise you, Sav, there are only two bedrooms with two beds total up there.”

Sharing a bed with a stranger would be weird, but sharing a bed with Jackson Thatcher-Miles? That could quite possibly kill me.

We look back and forth between the phone and the room in front of us. The photo shows two queen-sized beds in the massive bedroom, but the space in front of us shows it clear as day.

There is one king bed.

“They must have renovated and forgot to update the photos…” Savannah’s look of disdain is more than likely not for me and more so that she has been mis-advertised to.

“Can I just stay with you, and Wes stay with Jackson?”

“Gen, I will not spend a three-week trip in Saint-Tropez with you in my bed while Wesley is in the house,” she sighs in my direction. I see her face shift as she realizes just how insensitive she is being. “I’m not trying to be a dick, okay?”

“Well, I’ll sleep on the couch then!”

“The…rental agreement says no one is allowed to sleep anywhere outside of the bedrooms.” She winces as my gaze bores into her.

“How would they know?” I ask.

“I don’t know, but if they find out you did, I’ll end up with a violation of policy charge on my card.”

It’s not like Savannah is hurting for money, but as her eyes meet my own with a stern expression, the words die on my lips.

As angry as I am, I can still tell that Savannah feels terrible, even if only a little. That doesn’t stop me from fuming. I feel for the poor unsuspecting employee at the booking company that she will soon be threatening over the phone.

“Well, what are we supposed to do?”

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