Page 57 of The Best Wrong Move

There she is. The ocean, framed by my view of thick, tropical greens, under a sky filled with puffy white clouds.

A hammock wide enough to fit two or three people is strung between two enormous tree trunks, with a stone bistro table nestled beside a smooth river rock wall. I take off my shoes to feel the cool, wet earth and velvety moss between my toes.

What the hell does Dom do besides rent townhouses?There’s no way my nominal rental fee affords him this level of luxury. Even if he owns fifty of them.

My phone pings, startling me out of a trance-like daydream, bringing me back to reality.

His text is only four words, but it makes me smile.

Find your way in?

I settle myself onto one of the bistro chairs, surrounded by carved rock and moss, then take a selfie to send back as my answer. Before hittingSend, I bring the screen up to my face to study it more closely, not surprised by what I see.

I look happy.

Genuinely happy. Lighter than I have in months. No filter needed. Wrapped in my new cobalt-blue kaftan, holding up my wrist to prove that I’m wearing at least six inches of thin, gold bangles down each arm, which make me want to dance when I move. I smile at myself on the screen.

I love it here.

Every awful thing that happened in my life the last few months had to happen in order for me to be here. To experience this exact moment right now.

I add a line of text to my selfie before hittingSend.

I think I’ve dreamed of this place a time or two??Thank you

Writing here, in a place that looks plucked from my dreams, is everything I ever hoped it would be. Periodically I look around, feeling like I’ve stumbled into paradise, knowing my dream man is the owner of everything I see around me.

I sit down and start to write, losing track of time from the words flowing onto the screen.

I have no idea what time it is when the smell of something sizzling on the grill pulls my focus from my computer screen. But it must have been a few hours based on the pages and pages of words filling my laptop screen. It’s the most accomplished day of writing I’ve had yet.

Whatever that smell is makes my mouth instantly water with hunger. Garlicky seafood and some type of grilled meat.

I sit up taller, my stomach rumbling.

Dom must be home.

Chapter 35

Closing my laptop, I follow another path to a set of stairs that will take me up to a second-story deck. I take them two at a time until a smoky gas barbeque comes into view. Peeking through the windows, I spot him standing at a wide marble island, squeezing bright yellow lemon slices over a platter of enormous prawns. I gently tap on the window, grinning. He’s surrounded by more than enough food to feed two people.

“Come on in!” he calls through the glass.

“This smells like heaven!” I gush, glancing around the shrimp and crab legs strewn out across the counter. He has a dish towel thrown casually over his shoulder, likeTop Chef,but way more handsome. He looks relaxed and totally in charge of his kitchen.

I love this version of him, I realize. It’s sexy as hell.

“Tell me you’re game to stay. Everything’s fresh from the fish market. Caught today.” He holds an enormous prawn out to me by the tail.

I grab it from him, ripping the body off with my teeth and tossing the tail into a nearby bin. I feel ravenous. Then I suck the garlic off the tip of my finger, keeping one eye glued to him while I reach for another.

“You must be hungry.” He laughs, leaning in for a kiss.

“Oh my God.” I cover my mouth while I chew, fighting the urge to smother him in more kisses. There’s nothing sexier than a guy who can hang up window blindsandcook like this. “That tasted like it came from a five-star restaurant. When did you get home?” I reach for another. It feels like we’re playing house.

Besides the platter of shrimp, there’s a plate of buttery spiced corn cobs, and something simmering on the stove, in addition to whatever is under the hood of the grill outside.

“A while, but I didn’t want to interrupt you. You looked like you were on a roll down there.” He grins at me, and I smile back, wondering what I must’ve looked like when Dom peered over the edge of the deck to see me typing away so feverishly that I didn’t even notice he was there. “That whole kaftan thing must have had the intended effect on your writing. You look gorgeous in that, by the way.”

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