Page 41 of Kissing Flynn

“You got the note from Barnard?” she asks, spinning back around to face me.

“Yeah,” I say, waving the paper in my hand through the air. “I was going to ask if you want to head to town for dinner.”

“Definitely,” she says before I can suggest my idea of staying in bed all night. Then she asks, “Did you know there was a town on the island?”

“I had no clue,” I say.

“Let’s go check it out,” she says, then darts forward to peck a kiss on my lips, jerking back with a laugh before I can deepen it. “More of that, later. I’m starving, and I want to see this town.”

“Fine,” I huff dramatically, and she laughs again.

We head downstairs together, chatting as we go. There’s no point in trying to hide our connection anymore. That cat is definitely out of the bag where Barnard is concerned, and Lars and Peter’s opinions don’t matter. In fact, it would be good if Lars saw us. Maybe if he did, he’d stop trying to make moves on Max.

I’d hate to get eliminated from this competition for violently attacking another writer, but I’d do it in a minute if he ever put his hands on my woman.

My woman.

I like that. A lot.

When we get outside, I’m thrilled to find the mopeds are two-seaters. Max wastes no time pulling her skirt up to her knees and climbing on behind me. She wraps her arms tightly around my middle, and I can’t resist running a palm over her thigh before firing up the moped.

The ride is bumpy as we make our way along the dirt road, and Max holds on even tighter, pressing her chest into my back. I’m definitely buying one of these things when we get back home. I can’t wait to cruise all over Los Angeles with Max clinging to me like this.

The trip is short, and when I park the moped in a small lot filled with golf carts and other mopeds, I realize the “town” is actually more of a quaint village. Steel-drum-heavy music fills the air as people wander up and down the main street. Hand-in-hand, we pass a small, open building with rows and rows of fruits and vegetables. There’s a market that seems to sell everything else a household might need including meat, fish, tools, paper goods, canned food, and snacks. Between two buildings is an open area filled with tables and chairs, and I spot a long bar at the other end with taps and shelves of liquor bottles.

The people smile as we pass, and I actually recognize a few of them as staff at Barnard’s estate. It seems the people who work for him there also live on the island. They must lead quite the life in a paradise such as this.

At the end of the street, we find a small restaurant, and I laugh as Max practically drags me inside. A sign tells us to seat ourselves, and we head for a small table-for-two in the back. A waitress appears immediately, greeting us with a warm smile as she hands us menus to peruse.

“Everything looks so good. I can’t decide,” Max says without looking up from her menu.

“I see what you mean,” I say, reading options that range from American food to Mexican to Polynesian.

In the end, I choose a good, old-fashioned burger while Max orders the Polynesian pulled pork tacos. We both order fruity frozen cocktails, and when they arrive, we clink our glasses together and toast to a great night before sipping on our straws.

The food is delicious, and we end up splitting our meals so we can both try what the other ordered. It feels intimate, like no one else exists in this little bubble we’ve created, and though I don’t want it to end, I don’t want to just sit here all night, either. And I can tell Max is itching to explore this place, as well.

“Can I get you anything else? Some dessert, perhaps?” the waitress asks as she clears our plates.

Max groans with her hands on her stomach, making me chuckle before answering, “No, thanks. I think we’re stuffed. Can we get the check, please?”

“No,” she says, shaking her head. “Mr. Roxberry made it clear his guests are to pay for nothing here. He’s covering all of your expenses tonight.”

“Really?” Max asks.

“Really,” she says, shooting Max a wink, “so make sure you visit every business in town before you leave.”

She walks away, and Max looks over at me with wide eyes. “Did she mean she wanted us to spend Barnard’s money all over town?”

“I think so,” I say with a laugh as I push up out of my chair.

Moving around the table, I hold her chair and pull it out as she stands. She takes my hand once more, and the restaurant staff call out joyous goodbyes as we leave.

“Everyone is so friendly,” Max says as we step back out onto the street.

“They really are,” I agree, pulling our joined hands up to brush a kiss over her knuckles.

The music dies out for a moment, then picks right back up with a lively tune that has people shouting and crowding the streets like a flash mob. Grinning at Max, I pull her into the crowd. Lifting her hand over her head, I twirl her around, and her laughter peppers my skin like a cool midnight rain.

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