Hot & Heavy (Lightning 2)

Of his dislocated shoulder from actually jumping off the cliff in Mexico.

Of the million times my mom packed us up in the middle of the night when her latest scheme went wrong.

I don’t say any of that to Emerson, though. I just hug her tight.

“I’m serious,” she tells me when she pulls away. “About the boat and the fall. We leave the marina at nine o’clock Sunday morning.” She pokes me in the arm. “I expect you to be there.”

“I have a class—”

“No, you don’t. I already called the studio and checked your schedule.” She climbs in her car. “Nine A.M., Sage. Slip number two thirty-seven.”

I want to argue more, but she’s closing the door and driving away.

I reach into my purse and pull out my phone to text her, but something stops me. A little voice deep inside of me whispering that maybe, just maybe, Emerson’s right. Not about jumping off a cliff—I’m a long, long way from that.

But maybe I could try sticking a couple toes in the water, just to see what happens. Worst-case scenario, I lose the toes. Which isn’t ideal, I admit, but a woman can live without her toes.

Her heart, not so much.

Chapter 19

Shawn

Sage’s eyes go wide as I pull into the parking lot at Belmont Park.

“This?” she asks. “This is where you’re taking me for our date?”

“What did you expect?” I comb the back of the packed lot for a spot, and end up lucking out when someone pulls out right in front of us. “Five-star restaurants are so cliché.”

“I didn’t expect five stars, no,” she says with a grin. “But an actual restaurant, yes. I did expect that.”

“There are restaurants here.” I climb out of the car and then book it to the other side to open Sage’s door for her. If I’ve learned anything about this woman since that night in the bar, it’s that she isn’t the type to wait around for a guy to do anything for her.

Which, in turn, only makes me more determined to do whatever I can get away with.

“Beach pizza wasn’t quite what I had in mind,” she tells me as she waits for me to close the door behind her.

“Hey, everyone knows beach pizza is the very best kind.” I reach for her hand and the fact that she lets me take it sends a little thrill through me. Which is ridiculous, I know, considering all of the things we’ve done to and with each other from the very first night we met.

But just because it’s ridiculous doesn’t make it any less true. Especially since Sage has been so reticent about letting me touch her in public (the bachelorette-party bar notwithstanding).

I know it’s because she’s afraid that some overzealous fan will plaster pics of us all over social media, and to be honest, that’s a valid concern. Not for me, because I want the whole world to know we’re dating. I definitely want every man in the vicinity to know this strong, beautiful woman is mine.

“Who is this everyone you speak of?” she asks as we stroll hand in hand through the wide-open gates to Mission Beach’s very own boardwalk amusement park.

“Everyone!” I gesture to the throngs of people all around us. “This is the best place to get pizza in all of Mission Beach.”

“And here I thought we were here for the roller coaster.”

“Oh, we are,” I tell her with a grin. “And the Beach Blaster and the Octotron and the Tilt-a-Whirl.”

She’s smiling now, that grin she gets when she thinks I’m being ridiculous—which never fails to make me want to kiss her. So I do, leaning forward and pressing my lips to hers in what I plan to be a quick, fun little peck.

But Sage surprises me—she’s always surprising me—by wrapping her arms around my waist and holding tight as she opens her mouth to mine.

Never one to turn down a chance to get my hands on this woman, I slide my hands up to cup her face even as I suck her lower lip between my teeth and nibble softly.