Solo honeymooner,
Thought you might want these—especially the Motrin. I found your favorite scrap of lace in the sand again and didn’t want to chance it getting lost. Enjoy the beautiful day, and don’t worry—apart from our one kiss, I was a perfect gentleman when I tucked you in.
Q.R.
With a shaky hand, and feeling relieved, she set the note on the table. But when she started to head inside to take the Motrin, she realized he’d also brought back her empty champagne bottle and left it for her at the other side of the door. He’d placed a candle in the neck of the bottle, melting it around the edges to secure it in place.
She was touched by his simple, lovely gift—and so grateful that he'd made sure to let her know that he'd been a perfect gentleman. Even if a part of her suddenly couldn't help but wish he hadn't been quite so much of a gentleman. With a huge smile on her face, she downed the Motrin, then immediately texted Taryn.
I might be reconsidering my island fling options.
Her phone rang a second later, as she’d known it would.
“Something happened last night, didn’t it? Tell me everything!”
Shelley told Taryn about Quinn finding her skinny-dipping, their walk back to the cottage, and how they’d shared one seriously hot kiss.
But instead of whooping for joy the way Shelley had expected her to, Taryn asked, “Did you see a wedding ring?” Her cousin had clearly gone into protective mode.
Shelley knew she never would have hit on a married man in a million years. “No.”
“And you really don’t think he tried anything last night?”
“Nothing I wasn't begging him for.” Perhaps embarrassment should have swept over her at the memory of the way she’d thrown herself back into Quinn’s arms in front of the cottage. But Quinn had been simply irresistible in the cove in the moonlight. And she wouldn't give up her memory of the kiss they'd shared for anything in the world.
“Congratulations, Shelley.” Her cousin laughed, clearly delighted now. “You are finally turning into a normal girl.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Just that you’re so freaking picky when it comes to guys; it’s nice to see you easing up a little. I say go for it. Be safe, use condoms, and all that, but the beauty of having an island fling is that you’re away from everyone. No one will ever know about it, and your parents can’t judge him if they don’t know him. I mean, if you had a tryst anywhere near home, God only knows what Sheila and Margo would let slip if they found out, right?”
Sheila Lavington and Margo Burland were two women they’d gone to school with. Both had married for money, keeping in the same social realm as their parents. They’d given up everything in their lives other than attending charity events. Shelley didn’t even want to contemplate their snooty looks if they found out she’d been skinny-dipping. Shelley was supposed to be bred of the same cloth as the Lavingtons and the Burlands, and God forbid she do anything so frivolous.
Shelley glanced down at her lacy minidress, her sandy feet, and remembering her thong, still outside on the table with the champagne bottle and note, said, “We’re so not cut from the same cloth.” The thought made her giddy with delight. Although not anywhere near as giddy as Quinn's kiss had made her feel.
“Forget them,” Taryn said. “The big question is, what’s your plan for the hunky guy who ran into the water to save you?”
Suddenly she remembered what he’d said to her right before they’d sat down on the sand outside her cottage: Next time we kiss, I want to make sure you remember it.
A wicked thrill rocked through her at the memory of his sexy promise. “Well, if he’s as gorgeous in the light of day as he was beneath a full moon, if I do end up seeing him again, I just might let things take their natural course.” And let him make good on his promise to her. “Even though I don’t know how long he’s here, or his last name, or anything.”
“All the better,” Taryn insisted. “Remember, island flings don’t need to be complicated. The less info revealed the better.”
“You’re really good at this, T. If I were you, I wouldn’t let your brothers get wind of your affinity for quickie affairs.”
Taryn groaned. “Can you imagine? I’d be locked in a chastity belt and put in a high tower. It’s surprising that they don’t sit on my doorstep and guard me.”
“Well, at least they care. You could be like me and live a life where your family is totally disinterested in anything you do.”
“Oh, come on. Give them some credit—your parents are really good at chastising you when you go against their social graces. Which is pretty much all the time.” Taryn was laughing, but when Shelley didn’t join her, she stopped and added, “Hey, I’m family, and you know I love you.”