14. Shark Week and Sweet Nothings
Shark Week and Sweet Nothings
Mina
I t might be the silliest idea of my life, but I can’t help it. Braden is, hands down, the sweetest man on the planet. Since our arrival, he’s been protective, congenial, and affectionate.
And now he’s whisked me off to a dessert-and-wine picnic overlooking a secluded pond.
It can’t all be for show, right?
Fine. I’ll admit that part of me wondered if Braden’s plans for the afternoon consisted of us and a locked hotel room, but it seems the man has other ideas.
And while my libido is disappointed, my heart is full.
Honestly, I’m not sure what I’d do if Braden made a pass at me. I tried once—awkwardly, disastrously—and he shut it down so fast I wanted to melt through the floor.
So yeah, part of me wants him to try again.
The other part? Terrified he actually will.
He’s joked about his many talents, but he hasn’t touched me below the waist. Hell, he hasn’t touched me above the waist either, and I’m not sure if he’s being a gentleman and taking it slow, or if he just doesn’t want to traverse those waters .
I’m sure as hell not asking—no matter how much alcohol I imbibe this time.
Instead, I opt to enjoy the moment and not look beyond tomorrow. Sometimes, it doesn’t pay to know what the future holds.
Plus, I owe him. Big. He got me away from Leo, and I need some space to process my ex’s sudden reappearance.
“So, this is what romance feels like,” I murmur, plopping down on the edge of the dock, my feet dangling in the cool water.
“Pretty much,” Braden replies, handing me a glass of wine and a plate of Italian pastries. “You seem surprised.”
I sip the sweet red wine, letting the taste linger on my tongue. “I am. Romance was never high on my list of priorities.”
Braden quirks his lips, shaking his head slowly. “How is that possible? You’re fucking stunning. Men fall all over themselves watching you. Trust me, I notice.”
“Men did that here?”
“Yes, but it also happens daily at work.”
I drag my tongue across my lower lip, surprised by Braden’s admission. “Didn’t realize you were paying attention. Or caring about it, either way.”
Braden shrugs, averting his gaze to the far bank. “Now you know.”
A nervous laugh bubbles up in my throat. Know what, exactly?
God, why can’t I be cool, just for an hour?
In a group, I can fake it okay, but here, with nothing surrounding us but the birds and bees, I feel naked and vulnerable.
Mostly, I’m scared of reading into something that isn’t there. Again.
Wiggling my toes in the water, I grin as a dragonfly flits away from its perch on a reed. “I’m the world’s worst flirt. I get all tangled up and trip over my words. Wind up bright red and running for cover.”
Braden rests his chin on his palm. “You really are shy, aren’t you?”
I nod. “I have my moments where I speak my mind, but mostly, I’m a total introvert. So even if someone attempted to woo me, their efforts would go straight over my head.”
His eyes roam over my figure as he bites back a smile. “ Now you tell me. Am I failing miserably here?”
I take another sip of wine, desperate to squelch the butterflies in my stomach. “That depends. Are you trying to woo me?”
Braden laughs, running a hand over his bearded jaw. “That might be the plan. Though if you had to ask, I’m clearly off to a rough start.”
I clink my glass against his before taking another swallow. “I’d say you’re perfect.”
“Hardly. Just ask your aunt.”
Shit. I knew this conversation was coming.
I set the wine aside and sit cross-legged, facing him. “She’s being horrible to you, isn’t she? What did she say?”
He leans over, pushing a few errant tendrils from my face. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got it handled.”
“You shouldn’t have to, though. That’s the problem. Stupid me, I thought she might have changed.”
“Tell me something.” Braden grasps my fingers, dusting soft kisses across my knuckles. “Why is Bitsy playing this game with you? She knows how talented you are, so why is she making you jump through hoops to prove— again —that you’re worthy?”
“I’m her second-greatest disappointment.” I whisper the words, barely able to believe I’ve finally released them into the world.
“Who is her first? ”
“My mom. Bitsy loved her like a daughter, at least until she fell in love with my dad.”
“Wish I’d gotten a chance to meet him.”
I offer a slight shrug, brushing crumbs from my skirt. “If you ever had any repair work done on your truck, you did. Don Mercer.”
Braden snaps his fingers at the mention of my father’s name. “Yes, I remember him. He worked at the auto shop for years, right? He was a hell of a nice guy.”
“The best. But he was beneath the Farnsworth family’s station. Bitsy dreamed of my mom marrying a banker or lawyer. A mechanic never figured into the equation.”
“Neither did a tattoo artist.” Braden’s words lack emotion, but I see the anger lining his aura.
It’s hard being judged simply for being different.
I sigh, an affirmative huff echoing past my lips. “It’s her loss, because I know you’re amazing.”
“You’re right. I am pretty damn great.”
I snicker out a laugh and give Braden a gentle shove. “Careful. Don’t trip over your humility.”
A wide grin stretches across his face. “I’m simply echoing what you already confirmed.”
“Okay, Mr. Perfect, I have a request.”
Braden leans in, one brow lifted, smirk in place. “This should be good.”
“I think so. First, pour me some more wine. Then, tell me about you.”
He chuckles as he tops off my glass and corks the bottle. “I don’t want to discuss me. I’m not that interesting.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, but you are unlike any man I’ve ever met—and you’ve set the bar for any future men impossibly high.”
His eyes widen. “Future men? What future men?”
I throw up my hands in surrender. “I’m just saying?— ”
Braden reaches over and wraps his hand around my nape, drawing me close. “Uh-uh. Take it back.”
My insides flutter, his breath warm against my mouth. “Make me.”
Okay, not sure where that came from, but I’ll blame the port wine.
“Oh, I see you’ve thrown down the gauntlet. Well, I’m ready.” He links his fingers and stretches his arms out, plucking the wine glass from my hand and setting it a few feet away.
Uh-oh.
“Ready for what, exactly?”
For a big guy, Braden is fast. His hands link at my waist as he digs his fingers into my ribs.
Oh, shit.
“No tickling,” I warn, desperate to squirm out of his grasp.
Not happening. Braden pushes me down and straddles me, grabbing both my hands in one of his and going straight for the kill.
“Stop it,” I beg, wriggling against the picnic blanket as I try to wrestle him off me.
“Take it back and I’ll stop.”
“Fine,” I crow, my voice shaking in between laughs. “I take it back.”
Braden stills, his hand still pinning both of mine above my head. “No more talk of other men?”
“Can I have my hands back now?”
“I don’t think so.” His eyes darken as he shifts down beside me, rolling me onto my side, wrists still trapped in his grasp.
His free hand trails up my thigh, inching slowly over my curves, his touch achingly deliberate.
Braden drags his knuckles along my jaw, holding my chin in place, forcing me to meet his gaze .
My blood pounds in my ears as he draws closer—until a loud splash sounds next to us, scaring the crap out of me.
I release a shriek. “Shark!”
No, I don’t know why I yell shark . I know damn well there are no sharks in the pond, but when I hear the splash right next to my head, my brain flies straight to Shark Week .
So much for being sexy. At all .
Might as well have been wearing my elephant-llama pajamas.
Trust me, I’m hating myself pretty hard right now.
Braden, however, finds the whole thing hysterically funny. He freezes for a second, eyes wide like he’s trying to process my ridiculous outburst.
Then he throws his head back and laughs, his entire body shaking with the effort. He rolls off me and onto his back, snorts of laughter rippling through him.
It takes him thirty seconds to calm down.
Yep. I counted.
And every time he meets my glower, it sends him over the edge again. Much more of this, and I’ll send him over the edge of the dock.
“Mina,” he gasps, giving my knee a friendly squeeze, “that may be the greatest thing I’ve heard all year.”
I roll my eyes, biting back my giggle. “So glad I could provide comic relief.”
He sits up and wraps an arm around my shoulder, dropping a kiss to my hair. “Have you had many run-ins with the elusive but highly predatory pond shark?”
I’m going to kill him. Drown him in this damn pond, and no one will ever be the wiser.
I toss up my hands and shake my head. “I fell asleep watching this ridiculous shark movie the other night. The shark somehow got into the canal system and swam up the sewers into this town.”
“Which happens all the time. ”
“Jackass.” I deliver a soft punch to his arm. “I know it’s insane, but I guess it stuck in my brain. What the hell was that splash, anyway?”
Braden gestures at something floating by the dock. “Your wine glass.”
“Shit.”
He fishes it out and stows it safely in the basket. “Here. You can have my glass.”
“Screw that,” I reply, holding out my hand. “Just give me the damn bottle.”
But Braden, ever the gentleman, fills his glass and passes it to me. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
He frames my face with his palms, gently tipping my chin up until I meet his eyes. “For making me laugh. I haven’t laughed like that in years.”
“I warned you I’m the worst flirt in the world. You’ve seen it in action twice now.”
Look, I’m holding it together on the outside, playing along with my faux pas, but I feel like an idiot. Again .
“When was the first time?”
I scoff. “The garden incident, which we will never mention again after this moment.”
Braden takes a slow sip of wine from the bottle, his dark green eyes drifting toward the sky. “Actually, you were the sexiest woman I’d ever seen that night.”
“Right,” I mutter.