Page 22 of The Billionaire's Teacher

“I know what it is.” I interrupted before she could get further in the description. “We have them in the supermarket at home. I’ve even bought them. They’re interesting.”

Sunshine laughed. “That’s code for you don’t like it.”

I took another sip of thefresca. “I like them in this.”

“I’ll see if we can take the recipe home. It’ll give you a reason to buy them and think of the islands.”

“All right. The guys would probably get a kick out of it at our next poker night.”

“Tell me about them?”

I gave her a curious look.

“What? You don’t talk about your life at home. I’m curious.”

Well, that was a two-way street. It wasn’t as though Sunny talked about her life at home. I didn’t even know which island she considered home. The charter company I’d booked through was based in Puerto Rico, but I hadn’t gotten the feeling that she considered it home. Then again, maybe I hadn’t known her well enough then to tell.

I smirked inside. Not that I knew her all that well now. It had only been five days. Five days of being together nonstop, certainly, but it still didn’t mean we should expect to know all there was to know about one another.

I took another sip of my drink. “We’ve been friends since college. Things have been shifting a little lately. We’re all in our thirties and starting to settle down, I guess.”

“Natural. But not you.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Why not me?”

“No ring, first off.” Sunny pointed to my bare hands. “And also, men who are in serious relationships don’t tend to book three-week solo vacations.”

“It’s not a vacation. I really am working. But your point is still valid.” I was able to get away to do this because I didn’t have anything keeping me in Virginia. If I was honest with myself, that fact was also one that had pushed me to take the trip in the first place.

I was about to start describing everyone, beginning with Scott, when Martina returned with two huge plates covered in a jumble of seafood preparations and a pile of what looked like a fruit slaw.

“Enjoy.” Martina set the plates down with no explanation and hurried away when another table hailed her.

“Smells good.” I leaned over the plate and breathed in. “Can I pray?”

I don’t know what prompted me to extend my hand, palm up. But the look Sunny gave me before she slid her hand into mine did crazy things to my heartbeat that I was probably better off not analyzing.

8

SUNNY

Imissed a lot of what he said in the prayer because I was dumb and put my hand in his. Driving the scooter this morning had been exquisite torture. I’d known it would be when I opted for the scooter over a cab. But I was tired of trying to keep my thoughts professional. I was only human. And it had been a long time since I’d had a man’s strong arms wrapped around me like that. It hadn’t hurt that Wes’s chest was firm and muscular. I’d noticed that when we dove. Or, more accurately, when he peeled his wetsuit half-off after diving. I dragged my mind away fromthattrain of thought before I did something that was going to embarrass both of us. Or drop back into the bad mood that had been the result of sitting next to him in church, unable to concentrate on the sermon because I was wrapped up in him.

Wes squeezed my hand and I yanked it away with a muttered, “Amen.”

My cheeks were hot, and probably a blazing red that no amount of tan would hide. Great. Just great.

Wes picked up his fork and poked at one of the fried lumps on his plate. “Any idea what this is?”

I eyed my own meal and found a similarly sized chunk. I speared it and popped it in my mouth. “Mmm. Conch. You’ll love it.”

With a nod, Wes ate the bite he’d been poking. “It’s good.”

“Do you have to know what everything is before you eat it?” I couldn’t live that way. There were too many things that tasted amazing but were utterly ruined if someone explained what it was and how it was made. Take pretty much any sort of land-based meat. How did anyone spend time thinking about the process of slaughtering and prepping a chicken and then dig into a dish made out of it? Maybe if I’d grown up having to do it I’d be fine. As it was, I was content to eat what I was given and not think too hard about the rest of it.

“I guess not. Sometimes a little mystery is good.”

I pointed my empty fork at him. “Exactly. Now, tell me about your friends.”

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