Page 42 of Love, Take Two

15

EMORY

The fishing boat rumbles back toward Paradise Cove's marina as the sun begins its descent toward the horizon, and all I can think about is seeing Vada again after twelve hours that felt like forever.

"You've been staring at your phone like a lovesick teenager for the past hour," Derek observes with obvious amusement. "We get it, you miss yourfriend-with-benefits."

“Just checking my stats for the day.” I lie. I was looking for messages from Vada.

As we dock at the marina, I can see the resort staff preparing for tonight's dinner celebration.

An hour later, I'm walking toward the Crown Restaurant's terrace, freshly showered and dressed in slacks and a button-down shirt. The anticipation of seeing her again has my pulse racing in ways that should probably embarrass me.

But when I see Vada approaching the patio entrance, everything else becomes irrelevant.

She's stunning. The spa day has transformed her into something that makes my breath catch—her auburn hair styled in elegant waves that catch the evening light, makeup that enhances her natural beauty without hiding it, wearing a flowing dress in deep emerald green that brings out her eyes and moves like water when she walks. She looks confident and radiant and so beautiful that I forget how to move.

"Holy shit," I breathe, watching her scan the terrace until her eyes find mine.

The moment our gazes meet, her face lights up with a smile so genuine and delighted that my heart actually skips. Twelve hours apart has apparently been exactly long enough to remind me how incredible she is and how lucky I am that she chose to give this relationship another chance.

"Hey yourself." I pull her closer because twelve hours without touching her was too long. "You look incredible."

"Thank you." She settles into my arms like she belongs there. "I missed you."

"I missed you too." I lean down to kiss her because I can and because the evening light makes her lips look irresistible. "How was the spa day?"

"Relaxing." She smiles like there's more to that story. "Though I spent most of it thinking about you."

"Good to know I wasn't the only one with separation issues," I say, my hands finding her waist and staying there because touching her feels necessary after a day apart.

Derek bounds over with his usual enthusiasm, but for once keeps his commentary brief. "Reunion successful, moving on to dinner celebration!"

The dinner passes in a blur of excellent food and wedding party conversation, but I find myself focused on Vada beside me—the way she laughs at something Maya says, how the candlelight makes her skin glow, the increasing awareness that we're both struggling to maintain appropriate public behavior when what we want is to be alone together.

"You keep looking at me like that." She observes quietly during the main course, her hand finding mine under the table.

"Like what?" I ask, though I'm pretty sure I know what expression I'm wearing.

"Like you want to skip the rest of dinner and take me back to your room." Her directness makes my pulse spike.

"That's exactly what I want," I admit honestly, my thumb stroking across her knuckles in a gesture that's becoming automatic. "Is it that obvious?"

"Very obvious," she confirms with a smile that suggests she's thinking the same thing. "To me, anyway."

The rest of dinner becomes an exercise in building tension—stolen touches, meaningful looks, the kind of anticipation that makes every minute feel like an hour. By the time we're making our excuses to leave early, I'm barely holding onto my composure.

"Your room or mine?" she asks quietly as we walk back toward our suites, her hand warm in mine.

"Mine," I say without hesitation, because I want her in my space, where I can properly show her how much I missed her.

The moment we step into my suite and the door closes behind us, something fundamental shifts in the atmosphere between us. All the anticipation from dinner, the day of separation, the way she looks in that dress—everything combines into an awareness that we both need this.

"Come here," I say, pulling her against me with the kind of desperate urgency that probably should embarrass me but doesn't.

When I kiss her, it's with all the pent-up longing from twelve hours apart and the overwhelming need to touch her that's been building all evening. Her response is immediate and passionate, her hands threading through my hair as she presses closer.

"I've been thinking about this all day," she admits breathlessly when we break apart.

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