Page 178 of The Vacation Mix-Up
He nods.
“Oh, look!” I point at Big Ben and usher us to the other side of the pod. “Isn’t the clock magnificent from here? And Westminster Abbey? And?—”
“Riles.”
“Yes? Do you need to sit again?”
“No.”
“We can sit if you’d prefer.”
“It’s okay. You can stop rambling.”
“It’s not helping distract you?”
“It is, but it’s also giving me a headache. You sound like a chipmunk.”
“I do not sound like a chipmunk,” I squeak out.
He cocks an eyebrow.
Peanut butter.
When he drags me closer, our chests collide before his lips meet mine, his hand cradling the base of my head. I fall languid against him, my arms limp, my legs wavering. If this moment froze in time, everlasting and eternal, I certainly wouldn’t complain.
Blinking as my eyes focus on his, I realize that, for the first time in my life, words evade me.
He doesn’t speak either, simply searching my face before giving me a quick peck. “Turn around, sweetheart.”
“Huh?”
Riley gestures toward something beyond my head.
Curious, I swivel to face the most glorious sunset I’ve ever seen, swirls of pinks, oranges, purples, and blues lining the sky as far as the eye can see.
“Wow! Just—” I swallow. “Wow.”
He crosses his arms over my chest. “Yeah.”
Sighing, I rest my head against his pecs. “What a perfect day.”
chapter twenty-six
RILEY
Each day with Riles gets better and better, yesterday especially. Being with her, around her, inside her, fills a void I did and didn’t know needed filling. After ending it with Krystal, I somewhat enjoyed the single life and was enlightened to discover who I am, not as a husband but as me. I learned my strength and resilience. Embraced independence and solitude.
If I wanted to be on my own, I could. But… I don’t. I want to share my life with someone else. Laugh with them, eat with them, sleep with them. I want to watch the sun go down with someone in my arms, someone who appreciates me and what we share. And I want that someone to be Riles.
Our vacation is coming to an end though, and I’m not naïve enough to believe what we have now, here, on this cruise, will be the same once we return home. She’s a city girl; I’m a country boy. She’s ambitious and lives to work; I work to live.
Our livelihoods are chalk and cheese.
If I were a poetic fucker, I’d say my heart sings when we’re together, that she’s the missing piece to make it whole again. But I’m not poetic. I am a realist. And what Riles and I have together is as real as I’ve ever known, chalk and cheese be damned.
When we returned to Southampton the night before, she wasso exhausted that she fell asleep on the train. I’d been tempted to carry her back to the ship, but she no doubt would’ve ripped me a new one when she realized what I’d done, so waking her was the safest option, this time without poking something in her ear.
I expected we’d grab a bite to eat, then call it a night, but she insisted on working until the early hours of the morning. While I appreciate and respect her ethics and dedication to her career, and how she strives for excellence and success at all costs, I’ve seen firsthand what that does to a person. I’ve experienced the fallout, and I don’t want to experience that again.
