Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 87255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Me: We leave tomorrow.
Bianca: So anticipate an extravaganza this weekend. I heard there’s a champagne fountain, caviar, and a string quartet in the works.
My lips twitch.
Me: Sounds good.
Bianca: You’re just going to roll with that?
Me: And show off my beautiful wife to the family? Count me in.
Bianca: I’m … puzzled by all of this. But I’m going to play along and see where this goes.
Me: You do that.
Bianca: Also, before I go, our family chat has about eighty-three million messages for you, and everyone is annoyed you aren’t responding. So when you have a couple of free hours, you might want to dig through that.
Me: Or not.
Bianca:
My stomach tightens.
Me: What’s the status of that?
Bianca: I’ll let you know. Xo
Me: xo
“Renn?”
I look over my shoulder and listen. Blakely’s sleepy voice calls out again.
“Renn?”
I make my way back to the bedroom. She’s half awake, propped up in bed.
“Where did you go?”
“Just got a drink,” I say, slipping beneath the covers beside her. “I’m back.”
“Good.” She snuggles up next to me. “Don’t leave me again. Okay?”
I couldn’t if I tried, especially with Brock’s words bouncing around in my brain.
“I’ve seen this coming for a long time, and I’ve tried to keep it from happening. I should’ve known it was a pointless attempt … I’m saying that you just told me that she needs me to call her. And that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you give a shit about what anyone else needs ... Just take care of her and don’t hurt her. I trust that you will do what’s best for her.”
I kiss the top of her head. If you only knew …
CHAPTER 18
Blakely
“Do you really think I can do this?” I ask, shielding my eyes from the sun.
Renn grins. “Well, you probably won’t go pro after this session. But, yeah, I think you can get the hang of it.”
I gaze across the ocean. The water is a beautiful blue, glistening in the afternoon sunlight. The rays make the surface of Byron Bay shimmer. Wave upon wave rolls onto the beach, delivering surfers and swimmers back to shore.
“Let’s practice one more time before we go into the water,” Renn says. “Lie on your board.”
“It’s so sexy when you say that.”
He rolls his eyes but laughs anyway. “Okay. Good. Now, paddle, paddle, paddle.”
I pretend to paddle against the sand.
“Good. Now up!”
I hop onto the board like he taught me, keeping my back foot close to the tail. “My crouch is low. My arms are balanced.” I glance over my shoulder. “My ass looks great.”
He smacks it, his hand causing a crack in the air. I yelp, giggling, and pretend to fall off the board.
“You ruined my wave,” I say.
He grabs my hand and pulls me into him. He nips my bottom lip with his teeth. “I’m going to ruin more than that when we get back to the house.”
“You know what? I changed my mind.” I trace my name on his chest. “I don’t really want to learn to surf.”
He laughs again while pressing a kiss against my lips. “Too bad. You’re in Australia. You have to try to surf. It’s the law.”
“Oh, it is not.” I pick up my board. “Besides, you didn’t even let me have the real board with the wax. I have the foam one like a child.”
“It’ll be easier for you to use. Trust me.”
I express my displeasure with a whine. My annoyance melts away rather quickly as Renn approaches the water’s edge with his board, leaving me with a view that steals my breath.
Screw Mother Nature. This is the view that will never, ever get old.
His back muscles flex as he walks to the water. The silky dark strands of hair that I love to run my fingers through sit wildly atop his head. Sweat kisses his tanned skin, showcasing the tattoos on his arms and the single line of script down his side.
And his legs—holy fuck, those legs. If power comes from your thighs, that would explain a lot.
“Come on,” he says with faux exasperation.
A couple walks between us, waving as they pass. Their presence keeps me from shouting something dirty back to him—come on what? I think he knows I had a retort because he’s chuckling when I reach him.
“How long do I have to do this?” I ask.
“Blakely. You are the one who asked to surf today.”
“Yes, but that’s because you sexually satiated me after breakfast. But you just bit my lip and promised to ruin me. And now I can’t think about waves and boards. The only crouching I want to do is over your face.”
A slow smirk spreads across his face. “You’re right. Fuck it. Let’s go back.”
“Oh no.” I grab his arm and pull him back. “We’re surfing. I had to endure the lesson, so I’m getting use of it. I just don’t want to do it all day.”