Wilde Nights in Paradise (A Wilde Security Novel) (Entangled Brazen) (12 page)

Chapter Sixteen

Jude jumped aboard the small fishing boat called the
Gladys Marie
and smiled up at Libby, who stood on the dock with an expression of doubt on her face.

“That thing can’t possibly be safe.”

“Sure it is.” He thumped a hand on the boat’s railing. “Old Gladys is as sturdy as…uh…” He couldn’t think of anything reassuring to compare it to and said, “Well, she’s sturdy.”

“Maybe so.” Libby eyed the platinum-blond kid with the nose ring that was to be their captain. “But I’m more worried about him. Is he even old enough to drive this thing?”

“I’m twenty-one,” the kid protested.

Jude shrugged. “See, he’s a responsible adult.”

Libby snorted but finally relented and grasped his hand. He helped her aboard.

“Where are we going?” she asked for the hundredth time as she sat next to him in the bow.

“On an adventure.”

She rolled her lower lip through her teeth. “So I should be worried.”

“You’ll like it. Promise.”

She made a noncommittal sound, dragged her bag onto her lap, and hunted around inside for a moment. She brought out a bottle of SPF 50 sunscreen.

Go figure.

Jude laughed and watched her slather it on, part of him wishing he were the coconut-scented goo she spread so liberally all over her body. She sent him a sidelong glance. “Don’t look.”

He grinned. “Make me.”

“God, you’re such a child.” With an exasperated exhale, she lifted the edges of her swimsuit top and rubbed the stuff on her breasts.

Oh hell. It took everything he had in him not to groan, and he couldn’t help but wonder if the sunscreen tasted as good as it smelled. Was she
trying
to torture him? Knowing her, probably.

“You need to put some on, too,” she said in a won’t-take-no-for-an-answer tone and held the tube out to him. So, naturally, he had to brush it aside. At this point, poking at her had gone beyond an amusing pastime and into compulsion territory, but he got the feeling she enjoyed their bickering as much as he did.

“I’ll be fine.”

She sniffed, snapped the tube shut, and dropped it into her bag. “Don’t you come whining to me when you’re burned to a crisp, buddy. I’ll just laugh and do my I-told-you-so dance.”

“Now that’s something I’d pay to see. Does it involve a pole?”

She punched him in the shoulder. Hard. “You’re an ass.”

Satisfied with the outcome of the conversation, he lifted his face to the sun and inhaled the salty air. The ocean was as flat as a sheet of blue glass today, the only waves the ones coming off the boat as she skimmed across the water toward their destination. He stole a glance at Libby. She sat beside him with her eyes closed, her face also raised to the sun and wind. When she smiled, he did, too. She loved this. Sure, she’d cut off her own tongue with nail clippers before she admitted to it, but she was just as taken with the colors and sounds and flavors of the Keys as he was.

He couldn’t wait to see what her reaction would be to the afternoon he had planned and all but bounced in his seat with impatience. No doubt she was going to bitch and moan—and he couldn’t wait for the argumental gymnastics to follow—but he was also sure she was going to relish every second of it. At least he hoped so. He wanted to see her relax, wanted her to forget for a little while why they were in this tropical paradise. An escape for them both.

Fuck, his nerves were jangling around under his skin like obnoxious church bells.

Unable to stay seated any longer, he got up and paced the length of the boat, rubbing the ring in his shorts pocket like some kind of fucking magic lamp. He stopped and forced himself to remove his hand from the pocket and zip it up so he wouldn’t be tempted again. Libby gave him a quizzical look at the sound of the zipper, but went back to enjoying the ride without a word of question.

Hah. The lawyer was speechless. Had to be a first.

Temptation to provoke her again niggled at him, just so he could watch the flush of debate fill her cheeks. She was beautiful when she went into full lawyer-mode.
Then again,
he thought as she leaned over the railing, her hair loose and dancing around her face like rays of sunlight,
she was always beautiful
.

Nerves again. He rubbed his hands together, told himself to chill the fuck out. It wasn’t like he was proposing a second time. She’d probably laugh and kick him in the balls if he tried something that asinine. Still…he wanted everything perfect. Worry-free. And, yeah, maybe a little romantic.

Maybe he’d just check in with the captain one last time to make sure everything was all set.

…

When the boat slowed and coasted toward one of the little islands they had been circling for the last half hour, Libby sent a questioning glance Jude’s way. He merely grinned back.

She rolled her eyes. That man. His grin really shouldn’t set off rabbles of butterflies in her stomach.

The boat coasted toward a dock that looked half as sturdy as they one they’d left an hour ago. Jude stood at the bow and leaned out, grabbing ahold of a rope to help guide them in. After tying them with a skillful knot, he turned and reached down a hand to help her up and out.

“Ladies first.”

How gentlemanly. Funny thing—he was a gentleman. Two weeks ago, she never would have thought so. But he’d given her a flower every day. He’d found a new copy of her ruined book. He had run out into public half-naked just to keep an overgrown lizard from giving her nightmares. What was all of that if not gentlemanly?

Libby waited on the dock for him to grab his pack and disembark. The captain unloaded a huge surfboard and one long paddle from the back of the boat, then jumped in behind the wheel again and gave a wave. Jude untied the boat, pushed it away from the dock, and waved back.

“Whoa, wait,” Libby said, panic rising. “Where is he going?”

“Home.” He took her hand and led her toward the beach.

“He’s leaving us out here?”

“We have another ride.”

“What other ride? No, never mind. I don’t want to know the answer just yet. I have a feeling I’m not going to like it. I—oh.” She stopped short and stared at the beach, as white as freshly fallen snow. Someone had laid out a green blanket underneath an umbrella the same shade of tropical blue as the sky. On the blanket sat a picnic basket and a metal ice bucket sweating in the heat.

Jude’s smile was 100 percent smug male. “Hungry?”

“You set this all up for me?”

“Who else?”

She should smack him for that, should feel outraged that he’d staged this whole cheesy seduction when he knew good and well all he had to do was ask and she’d go to bed with him. But she couldn’t find the outrage. She dug deep within herself, and all she came up with was humbled wonder, especially when his smile started to slip and worry furrowed his brow.

“You don’t like it.”

“No. I mean, yes. Of course I do. It’s…it’s lovely. And…sweet. So very sweet.”

His smile returned, all dazzle and boyish excitement. He entwined his fingers through hers and pulled her toward the picnic. He sat her down on the blanket, dropped his pack on a jutting rock a few feet away, and joined her under the umbrella.

“What would you like?” he asked as he opened the cooler. “I know you hate tomatoes, so I avoided ordering anything with them, but other than that, I was guessing. We have some melon pieces, trail mix, a couple different kinds of sandwiches, some pasta salad—oh, that looks good.” He picked up the plastic container and shook it. “I’ll have some of this. We also have wine. White. Sorry, not your favorite but it’s easier to keep wine chilled out here than at room temperature so I—”

Libby reached across all of the containers and plastic-wrapped packages of food, placed her hand over his, and gave his fingers a light squeeze. “Thank you.”

Such insufficient words for the overwhelming affection she suddenly felt toward him, but they would have to do because she couldn’t think of any others. Or at least none that wouldn’t ruin the moment.

She had to be careful. Affection was a slippery slope. One wrong step and she’d fall headlong into love with this man again, and she refused to take that risk a second time. Even though, in moments like this, it seemed like a perfect idea, a real-life happily ever after…

She twisted her cover identity’s simple wedding band around on her finger. It wasn’t real. None of this was. She just had to keep reminding herself—

“Fuck!”

Libby jumped and stared in wide-eyed shock as Jude scrambled backward, his hand flailing around behind him for something to grab. Fearing the worst, she searched for the cause of his outburst and found it in the form of a little long-legged spider crawling across the blanket. She looked at him. Then at the spider. Then at him again. And she burst out laughing.

“Seriously?” She cupped her hands around the little thing before he could crush it like he so obviously wanted to. “You’ll pick up a giant lizard without a second’s thought, but you’re afraid of the itsy bitsy spider?”

“You’re afraid of a gentle lizard,” he shot back, “but you’ll pick up a killer spider?”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous. Killer spider,” she scoffed. “It’s harmless!”

“Yeah, right. Tell that to me when it bites you, and I have to swim your dying ass to the nearest hospital.”

Shaking her head, she stood with the spider still clasped in her palms. “I’ll let it go.”

“Way down the beach.” He pointed. “I mean waaaay down.”

“Wuss.”

“Hey, did I cast stones when I had to save you from the iguana?”

“No, but that doesn’t make you any less of a wuss.” She left him and let the spider go on a tree branch fifty yards away. When she got back, Jude handed her a glass of wine and wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“All right, Mr. Nature Lover,” she said after a moment of awkward silence. “Want to tell me what that was about?”

He took great care in pouring his own glass, but still wouldn’t meet her gaze.

“Well?” she prompted.

“I feel ridiculous.”

“You should.” And she probably shouldn’t take so much delight in the fact that his ears had turned bright red, but…honestly, it was adorable. She would have dialed down her teasing if he wasn’t laughing at himself right along with her. “You screamed like a little girl.”

“Bullshit.” He finally looked up with an expression of mock horror. “It was a manly scream.”

“Very manly,” she said and patted his hand.

“All right, you got me. I have a small phobia when it comes to spiders.” He removed her hand from his and pointed to an oblong scar on the back of his right hand between his thumb and forefinger. Indented like a shallow crater and puckered around the edges, she remembered she used to rub her thumb over that scar whenever they held hands.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You told me one of your brothers bit you during a fight.”

“It was a better story than getting bit by a spider when I was eight and having a bad reaction,” he admitted. “I ended up in the hospital for a week with the skin on my hand split open to the bone.”

She winced at that gruesome mental image. For an eight-year-old, it must have been terrifying. “What kind of spider does that much damage?”

“The doctors thought it was a brown recluse, but we never found the spider to know for sure. Ever since…” He shuddered. “No thanks. I’ll take my chances with iguanas over spiders any day.”

“Fair enough,” she said with a smile and sipped her wine. “I’ll be your spider slayer if you keep all reptiles far away from me.”

He reached over their picnic to shake her hand. “Deal. Now dig in. I have more planned for today.”

“I can’t wait.” She’d meant it as a sarcastic remark, but it hadn’t come out sounding like one, and it was the truth—she
was
intrigued to see what he had up his sleeve next.

She watched him dig into the pasta salad with relish and decided on some of the melon slices to go with her own sandwich. As she ate, she mused over how little she actually knew about the man seated across from her attacking his lunch with all the grace of a ravenous animal. She’d dated him for a whole year, and she’d never known about his spider phobia. Made her wonder what else she didn’t know about him.

He finished eating before she was even halfway through her sandwich and lounged back on one elbow, his wineglass still in hand. He released a contented sigh and stared out over the ocean. “I could sit here all day.”

She followed his gaze over the glittering stretch of paradise laid out before them like a feast for their eyes alone. “It’s so quiet here. Peaceful.”

“Mmm.”

“I can almost pretend I really am on vacation instead of hiding out from some crazy stalker.”

“No.” He held up a finger. “We’re not discussing that. We
are
on vacation today.”

“Thank you.”

“Why are you thanking me? This is all purely for selfish reasons. I was going stir-crazy and needed out of that house.”

“I think we both needed this. I mean, we fought over a sock like an old married couple.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she wished she could recall them, but Jude seemed not to notice how awkward those words were. Or maybe he just chose to ignore it.

Ignoring it worked for her. She gulped the rest of her wine. Yes, ignoring worked just fine for her.

In a surge, Jude sat up and started packing his garbage into the picnic basket.

“Where are you going?” she asked when he stood and grabbed his pack.

“The dock.”

“What about all this?” She waved a hand at the remnants of their picnic.

“The charter company will clean it all up. It’s what they do.” He held out a hand and wiggled his fingers. “So how about it? Ready for our next adventure?”

“Probably not.” She popped one more slice of melon in her mouth before accepting his hand. “But someone has to keep you out of trouble.”

And there it was, that quick, rabble-inducing grin again. “Aw, babe,” he said and pulled her to her feet. “Impossible task. Trouble and me, we go way back.”