Page 64 of Mr. Big Mistake
Brenden held my hand for the entire flight. We didn’t say a word, but it wasn’t as if the silence was uncomfortable. On the one hand, I wanted to ask him about how lunch went. But, on the other hand, I kind of already knew.
I just didn’t know if he wanted to talk about it or leave it in the past.
After taking a short catnap on Brenden’s shoulder, I woke up to him buckling me in. I lifted my head, and he smiled at me, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I giggled as his fingertips trailed against my cheek. Warming me and enticing me, and making me wonder if we could steal a few moments in that back bedroom. But, before I could ask, the intercom came on.
And the captain started speaking.
“Good afternoon. We have arrived in San Diego. The city of sun, sand, and surrealism. Today’s high is 72, and the low tonight is a cool, chilly 42. We hope you enjoy your stay here in this fair city and thank you for trusting your flight to me and my team.”
I gasped. “San Diego?”
Brenden nodded. “I remember you saying one time that you loved it out here.”
“I don’t even remember saying that.”
“Is it true, though?”
I nodded slowly. “San Diego is one of my favorite places in the world.”
“Well, get ready for a few days of shopping, spa retreats, and so much food it’ll make your head spin.”
I smiled brightly. “We’re in San Diego!”
He kissed the top of my head. “Yes, beautiful. We are.”
We got off the plane and had our things stowed into the back of a black town car. But we didn’t go to the hotel first. Instead, Brenden instructed the driver to head to Prospect Street.
I gasped. “Brenden, look! Look, look, look!”
“I see that. You like that shop?”
“Oh, my gosh. They have the most brilliant gems and some of the most unique jewelry pieces I’ve ever seen. You need to check it out sometime.”
“Why don’t we go inside now?”
I looked over at him. “Because there’s somewhere else I want to go first. Driver?”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Can you take us to that little Mexican hut down by the water?”
“Certainly.”
Brenden furrowed his brow. “A Mexican hut on the water?”
“Best fish tacos we’ll eat on the West Coast. Guaranteed.”
The food was fantastic. The sea breeze tickled my cheeks, and the smell of the ocean intoxicated me as fresh white fish was piled high onto crunchy, homemade taco shells. The vegetables and dips were organic. The Perrier water tasted better than what I had at home. Everything fell into place as Brenden’s feet nestled against mine underneath the rickety table.
Then, it was time to head to the hotel.
“So, where are we staying?” I asked.
“The Del,” he said.
I blinked. “The Del, in Coronado?”
He nodded. “That’s the one. And, I got us a suite with two separate bedrooms. You know, in case you didn’t feel comfortable sleeping in the same room.”
