Page 22 of Match Made in the Maldives

“Gets you thinking you have to say yes to every opportunity that comes along because you have the threat of work drying up. By raising your prices, you might have fewer clients. That’s the point. You’re talented and have buyers lined down the block. You’ll attract the people who value what you’re worth and what you deserve.”

Finn Robertson has a habit of telling me what I deserve. Here, though, he might be right.

Okay, in hindsight, he was right about Tanner too.

“And,” he goes on, the corner of his mouth quirking up, “you won’t have to work on your vacation. Think about it.”

“You sound like Aaron. I was relaxing around the pool.”

“You looked super relaxed with Photoshop open,” he says with a laugh.

I hold back my smile, annoyed that even when he’s teasing me, I enjoy it. I nudge him with my knee. “Do you remember the first time we kissed?”

This sends his body still. “You’ve asked me that before.”

“Wait, what?”

He fills in the gaps about our cab ride home after Aaron’s party, how I spent five straight minutes digging through my purse for my keys and insisting I was an independent woman, and how he tucked me into bed.

“You brought it up then. About that night.”

A chill causes me to shiver. “You never said anything about that kiss to me. Ever.”

“What would I have said? You were dating Tanner by that point.”

When I’d met up with Tanner after kissing Finn, I had every intention of telling him we were done. But when he opened the door to his apartment, he had tears in his eyes. He heard through our grapevine of friends about my Friday activities, and he declared he was so torn up over me kissing some random guy at a bar that he lost sleep. That man twisted my resolve into guilt. Seeing him so upset, down on his knees, and promising me he would change, I’d forgotten all the grief he’d put me through. Tanner wanted to be with me, and that was what I’d desired for six months—of course I agreed to date him.

But every time I saw Finn, I thought of that kiss.

“Why did you agree to play that game with me?”

“You’d had some drinks.” His thigh bounces up and down like he’s nervous. “You running off and kissing some random guys sounded, I don’t know. Unsafe. Better to help you win that game of yours than see you get hurt.”

“Oh,” I say, masking the disappointment in my voice as best as I can. “That’s the only reason?”

His brow cocks. “Whose turn is it to ask questions?”

“I want to understand. Was the only reason you kissed me to protect me?”

He finishes his drink, and if he’s anything like me, the effects of the champagne have long worn off. Every sense in my body is sharp as a knife as I await his response. I hear a flirty giggle from the handsy couple at the bar, see the rush of the waves against the sand, and feel the chill in the air.

“No,” he says. “That wasn’t the only reason.” He lets that truth hang between us before asking, “And you? Was I just in the right place at the right time?”

“Honestly, when I saw you at the bar, I forgot about my friends and what they’d put me up to. I was happy to see you, especiallyafter a shitty day.” I smile at Finn, recalling my immense relief at spotting him that night, and the way his eyes had a spark to them when I approached. “I wouldn’t have wanted to play that game with anyone else.” When I press my shin against his, he doesn’t recoil, and the contact lights me up from the inside. “You’re an excellent kisser, and you reminded me of that on this trip too.” I bite the corner of my lip, my heart galloping in my chest. Time to put myself out there. “Would you want to do that again sometime?”

We’re both fighting this pull between us. It’s a magnetic force that has me attached to him but also spinning out of control. My chin is almost at his biceps, my hand is a breath away from his, and our legs are melded together. Anything more, and I might take that as an invitation to straddle him again right here.

“Lou,” he says, barely loud enough for me to hear. “We can’t.”

I swallow a lump in my throat. “Why not?”

“Your family, for one.”

“What about them? My brother won’t go all macho on you if he finds out. Not that we have to tell anyone.”

He winces at this, then takes a measured, steady inhale. “Your parents have allowed me into their lives like a son. I can’t mess that up.”

“There’s not a thing you could do to make them stop loving you.”

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