With This Fling (Summersweet Island 5)

But imagine what would have happened if you didn’t make a mess of everything. That mouth of his definitely looks like it would be good for a lot more than sarcasm.

“You’re thinking about kissing him right now, aren’t you?” Karen asks while studying my face.

“Oh shut up,” I complain, my cheeks heating with embarrassment even though she doesn’t really know that’s what I was thinking about.

“So what’s the plan, exactly? There’s a week of wedding activities Birdie has on the schedule, on top of the actual wedding. I’m assuming you’ll want to flee the country now,” Karen jokes.

That thought did cross my mind.

“I’m not fleeing the country. And I’m not going to be made to feel uncomfortable on my own island. I’m a grown-ass woman, and this is my daughter’s wedding. I’m going to do the mature thing by spending the next week avoiding him and not making eye contact. He’s going to want to be as far away from me as possible after that shit show last night anyway, so this is a moot point. I am now a walking, talking, puking turn-off.”

And doesn’t that just suck to think about, which makes my headache even worse.

“Stop fighting it,” Wren complains, even though she’s supposed to be shutting up. “You can’t just avoid him all week and pretend like he doesn’t get your juices flowing.”

“I already banned that phrase from your sister’s vocabulary.”

“I know. She told me.” Wren shrugs, taking the last bite of her french toast. “You know that just makes us want to say it more, right? Juices flowing, juices flowing, juices—Ow! That hurt!”

She finally stops chanting when I smack the side of her arm. “I’m not afraid to punch a pregnant woman. Give it a rest. There is nothing flowing, juicy or otherwise.”

“Eeew, that was much worse than what I said.” Wren grimaces.

“You are too smart to let what happened to you thirty years ago stop you from finding real happiness now,” Karen reminds me. “Stop being afraid, and put yourself out there with the first guy who actually has potential, looks to be man enough to handle you, and can read fucking cursive!”

“That’s what I said!” Wren agrees, leaning around me to give her a high-five.

“Honestly, that last guy couldn’t even read the menu at Island Slice. It was embarrassing.” Karen sighs.

“It’s a pizza place! They only serve pizza, and he still couldn’t figure out how to order.”

“All right, that’s enough.” I stop them, trying not to be embarrassed by my past dating choices. “Just because Dean is hot, and surprisingly sweet, and his voice makes me feel like melted butter, and when he looks at me I want to climb him like a tree… does not mean I want to fall in love with the man.”

“Wow, melted butter. That’s a new one.”

Son of a bitch! Not again!

Taking a deep, fortifying breath, I swivel my stool around slowly to find the man I’ve been sipping and bitching about all morning—and who I’d hoped to avoid for the rest of time—eavesdropping once again on my conversation. With the same smirk on his face from the last time he did it.

Why does he have to be so annoyingly hot? It’s just not fair. His hair is damp from a recent shower, and another crisp, clean T-shirt clings to his muscles and is tucked into a pair of jeans that fit him like a glove, all of that beautiful ink on his muscular arms making me want to reach out and trace my fingers over everything. He looks like he should be on the cover of a badass hot-guy magazine, whereas my long blonde hair is in a messy bun on top of my head, and I’m still wearing smudges of last night’s makeup that I fell asleep in and didn’t give two shits about washing off this morning. At least the dark sunglasses cover up some of the mess on my face. But my faded Dip and Twist T-shirt with ice cream and chocolate stains from the last time I wore it to work, and the old pair of joggers that Owen left at my house the last time he stayed over that I threw on before I ran out the door, just scream what a mess I am.

“What are you doing here?”

I don’t mean for the words to come out so bitchy, but I look like fresh shit, and I’d just like to wallow in peace without the subject of my wallowing standing right here to witness it.

“Nothing sounded good to eat at the hotel. I get bored with hotel food anyway, since that’s all I ever eat.” He shrugs. “So I threw up my hands and decided to come into town to look for something better.”

My eyes narrow at him behind my sunglasses.

“They really should think about purging their menu.”

Karen snorts and tries to cover it up with a cough.

“Anyway, good thing I found this place. They really know how to regurgitate their recipes.”

“That doesn’t even make sense,” I finally speak with a roll of my eyes, even though he can’t see it.

“I know, but I just had to get that last one in there.” He winks.