Runaway Groom (I Do, I Don't 2)

Ellie lifts her head. “What do you have in mind?”

“On the count of three, we’re going to paddle back to shore.”

“And then?”

I grin. “And then…we’ll figure it out. Quick-like.”

“What about our boards?”

I splash her. “Ditch them. Do you want to escape the cameras or not?”

She perks up. “We’ll get in so much trouble.”

I grin. “Exactly. On my count…”

Ellie

I let out a delighted laugh as Gage speeds away from the beach. “They’re not even out of the boat yet.”

He grins, his perfect teeth flashing white against his tan, looking every bit the part of the movie star who can get away with just about anything he wants. “Where to?”

I rummage in the duffel bag at my feet for a T-shirt. After dashing out of the water, we paused only long enough to grab our bags and Gage’s car keys from the startled staffers assigned to stay behind and watch the stuff, then hopped into the rented convertible.

“You know, you’re on vacation,” he says as I pull the shirt over my head. “It’s perfectly acceptable to drive around wearing nothing but a swimsuit with a famous celebrity.”

“Oh, gosh, you don’t say. Maybe I should just go entirely topless and leisurely rub some tanning oil all over my tits.”

My tone is sarcastic, but Gage stifles a tortured groan, shifting slightly in the driver’s seat.

“You are such a guy,” I say. Although I’m secretly thrilled at the prospect that a skinny, flat-chested “regular” girl can have that sort of effect on him.

“It’s your fault,” he says as he changes lanes. “For making me stop at second base. I want more.”

“Hmm. At what point do you get your fill?” I muse. “Third base? Home run?”

“Well, here’s the thing about me, Wright. I like to round all the bases many times per game, and I like to play many games in a row.”

“Sounds exhausting.” I dig my sunglasses out of my bag and slide them onto my face.

“What sort of tools have you been with if exhausting is the only word you can summon for a sex marathon?”

I tilt my face up toward the sun. “Just because you’re insatiable doesn’t mean my sexual history has been lame.”

“But it has been, a little bit. Right?”

“Well, I did have this very tepid encounter on a love seat a couple of nights ago. Guy didn’t know his way around the female body at all.”

“Huh. I’m thinking maybe you misunderstood the situation, and you should give him a second chance.”

I turn my face toward him. “You know, if I thought I was his only shot at female companionship, I might. But I got the feeling he could have just about anyone he wanted.”

He glances over at me, just for a moment, before shifting his gaze back to the road. “Did you also get the feeling that maybe you were the only one he wanted?”

My stomach flips. His words make me feel like I’m thirteen again, complete with all the sweaty palms, jittery stomach, and breathless longing.

I try to tell myself that it’s simply his actor-self at work, that he’s just really good with a line. But while my brain knows that, my heart…my heart wants him to mean it.

He glances over once more, as though wait