Page 30 of Love, Take Two

"Terrible hardship," she says with obvious contentment, settling more comfortably against my side. "However will we manage?"

"I have some ideas," I say, which earns me a look that's equal parts amused and interested.

"Do you now?"

"We could order room service," I suggest. "Continue our own celebration."

"I like the way you think, Wise," she says, reaching for her phone to check the resort's room service options. "Though I should probably grab some clothes."

"Should you?" I ask with mock seriousness. "You won’t need them."

She laughs and hits me with a throw pillow, which somehow turns into brief playful wrestling that ends with both of us laughing and completely tangled together.

"Okay," she says when we've caught our breath.

10

VADA

My phone buzzes with notifications, but I ignore it.

"More interesting things happening right here," I agree, remembering last night when we both decided this deserves more than casual exploration. "And we decided?"

"We decided to be brave enough to try," he says, leaning down to kiss the top of my head. "Though I have a feeling today's group activities are going to provide some commentary on our decision."

My phone buzzes again, more insistently. Curiosity wins over contentment. I reach for it carefully, trying not to disturb our perfect position, and immediately understand what Emory means about commentary.

Seventeen missed texts from Maya, twelve from various wedding guests, and a flood of notifications.

"Oh no," I mutter, scrolling through messages ranging from concerned to delighted to completely inappropriate speculation about how we spent our evening.

"How bad?" Emory asks, though his arm tightens around me like he's not ready to face whatever social media chaos we've created.

I continue to scroll through comments that are equal parts sweet and invasive. "Maya's texts are the most concerning. She alternates between 'WHERE ARE YOU' and 'I hope you're having the best reunion sex of your life.'"

"Maya doesn't mess around," Emory observes.

"Never has," I agree, then catch sight of the time on my phone.

"Here's one from Erika," I stop to read it. "She rescheduled the snorkeling to this afternoon."

"We should probably get ready," he adds, though neither of us moves to extract ourselves from our position. "I'm looking forward to it. Snorkeling with you sounds perfect."

“With Derek providing running commentary about underwater chemistry?"

"Especially with Derek providing commentary," Emory says with a grin that makes my heart skip. "Because now we don't have to pretend he's wrong about the chemistry part."

Two hours later, I'm walking into the resort lobby wearing my favorite bikini under a flowy cover-up, feeling more confident than I've felt all week. Maybe it's the way Emory stays by my side, or how his hand finds mine with natural ease, or the fact that we spent last night making up for lost time.

"THE LOVEBIRDS!" Derek's voice booms across the elegant lobby. "Ladies and gentlemen, Paradise Cove's most romantic couple has emerged from their storm sanctuary!"

Before Derek can elaborate further on his theories about our evening activities, Erika approaches with her professional photographer and the kind of excitement that means today's expedition is going to be heavily documented.

"Hi guys!" she says, gesturing for us to join the growing group of wedding guests near the lobby's seating area. "I was just explaining today's snorkeling adventure to everyone. We're taking the resort's catamaran to the coral reef preserve about twenty minutes offshore. The marine life is supposed to be incredible, and we'll have a professional diving instructor plus underwater photography equipment."

"Underwater photography?" I ask, because that suggests a level of documentation I wasn't expecting.

"Full professional setup," Erika explains with obvious delight. "Waterproof cameras, underwater videography, the works. This is going to create the most amazing destination wedding content ever."

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