Page 113 of The Vacation Mix-Up
Captain Katarina clutches her abdomen and then pats my shoulder. “I’m joking. You’re not steering the ship.”
“I’m not?”
“No. Do you think I’m crazy?” She points to one of her officers at a different station. “Second Officer Franco is navigating. This little wheel here is just for show… and to play tricks on my passengers during the tour.”
Haha… ha… ha.
“You got me,” I say as everyone laughs at my expense, Riley included.
Winking, she pats my shoulder again, then instigates asympathetic round of applause as I trudge back to my spot, mortification burning my cheeks.
“I like her,” Riley murmurs. “She’s… funny.”
Grumbling, I cross my arms over my chest.
“Ease up, Ri?—”
“Don’t,” I grouch.
He chuckles. “You want to kiss me again, don’t you?”
“If you say that one more time—” I grit my teeth. “—you’ll be kissing my knuckles.”
Riley turns to face me, lifts my hand, and inspects it. “They look like nice knuckles.”
I go to snatch my hand back, but I’m not given the chance when he leans forward and places a soft kiss against my skin, his eyes not leaving mine. “Is this what you had in mind?”
“I….” I try to speak, but no words form, my knuckles tingling, my hand as immobile as my tongue.
Damn you and your magical lips.
chapter eighteen
RILEY
If all goes to plan, she’ll say yes to kissing me again. And the odds are, the more I ask, the better chance I have.
I’m desperate to taste her lips, feel her warmth, and confirm our kiss on stage and what it did to me wasn’t just a figment of my imagination. Because, if our next kiss is as mind-blowing as the first, I can’t possibly ignore what it could mean. Alternatively, if kissing her again sparks nothing—which I highly doubt will be the case—I’ll back down and stop pushing her, as I’m not about a one-night stand, irrespective of what she thinks.
I’ll be her roommate, her friend, and nothing more.
I’ll be the perfect gentleman.
When I kissed her knuckles on the bridge, I thought I was finally in luck, that she’d give in, say yes,and then press her lips to mine. She looked interested, and itwasa romantic location after all, perhaps a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. But she hasn’t said more than a few words to me since, and now I’m worried I pushed a little too hard, too soon.
“Idiot!” I murmur to myself as I tie the laces of my shoe.
I’m in over my head; I just don’t want to accept it. I’ve never “chased”a woman, only a girl. And back then, I wasn’t much older than sixteen.
You don’t have a clue, dickhead. You should stop embarrassing yourself. Save some face before it’s too late.
Standing up from sitting on the edge of my bed, the door to the bathroom opens, and Riles steps out in the evening dress she unpacked the day we met, the purple satin material skimming to just above the floor, splitting like a curtain and falling on either side of her leg.
My composure lodges in my throat, and I try to swallow, my throat thick as my eyes climb her body to her bare shoulders, her hair tied up, showcasing her stunning face.
All thoughts of stopping my pursuit whisk past me and out the door.
Embarrass yourself, dickhead. Do whatever it takes.
