Chapter 6
Mia
Snorkeling? I haven’t swum in years.
When we went to Colombia for Rain and Xander’s wedding—our friends from Azalea Creek—all I did was lie under the sun. I think I only dipped my toes in the water once.
“Shit, I didn’t think about asking,” Diego murmurs as we drive around the resort. “Do you know how to swim?” His voice is timid, almost a whisper, like he’s afraid of embarrassing me with the question.
“Yeah, I know how to swim. I grew up spending my summers in the river near my family’s place.” A small smile creeps onto my lips as the memory floods in—one of those vivid ones that never really fades.
My parents worked long hours, tending to the animals, planting, harvesting—you name it. So I spent most of my free time with Carly.
We’d been at the river, like we always were during the hot summer months. After breakfast, we’d pack snacks, water, towels, and a book before hopping on our bikes to ride down to this little cove about a mile from home.
I remember that day—it was extremely hot. I didn’t want to sit still and listen to Carly read about Nancy Drew solving all these incredible mysteries—I just wanted to be in the water. But Carly loved her routines. She was determined to read the book first, then swim, then head home. Like always.
The moment she started reading, I stood up, took off my shorts, and crept toward the riverbank. Carly was so absorbed by the story she didn’t even notice me slip into the water—or maybe she did and didn’t want to argue. Either way, I waded in until I was floating, face toward the sunny sky.
That’s when something pulled my ankle.
The water swallowed my cry before I could even scream. I kicked and thrashed, but whatever had a hold of me was incredibly strong. Panic flooded my lungs as I sank deeper. I tried to fight, but I was out of breath and exhausted.
Suddenly, I got pulled up by a strong hand, my lungs burning as I blinked up at the cowboy who’d pulled me from the water.
“What were you doing, kid?” he scolded, shaking his head. “Don’t you see how dangerous the river can be?”
“I was playing in the water and something dragged me down,” I said defensively between ragged breaths.
“You mean this?” He held up a ratty piece of cord.
“But it pulled me down. I swear,” I insisted, tears stinging my eyes.
After wiping my face with the back of my hand, I pulled on my shorts and biked home. I was angry, embarrassed. Scared.
I clear my throat and bring myself back to the present.
“But I haven’t swum in a long time,” I say timidly instead, not wanting to share the real reason for my hesitation.
I’m nervous Diego will see me as clumsy, or childish—someone not worth his time.
It’s unbelievable how something that happened so long ago can still make me feel so small.
“We can do something else, if you’d like.” His tone is calm, steady.
“No, no. Let’s at least try snorkeling. If I’m a complete disaster, then we can think about a plan B,” I say, sounding way more confident than I feel.
He gives my thigh a quick squeeze, and a shot of desire shoots through my body.
“That’s my girl,” he says with a wink.
My core throbs at his words. His girl? Good God, what I wouldn’t give to hear him say that while kissing me senseless.
When we arrive at the marina, Diego shuts off the golf cart and walks around to help me out. Our hands find each other instantly, like we’ve been doing this forever.
There’s a single catamaran docked, gently swaying in rhythm with the tide. My eyebrows shoot up when I spot about fifteen people already on board. All these people for one boat?
“Mr. Grosso, good morning,” says a tall man as soon as we step aboard.
“Good morning, Joe. Is everything ready?” Diego asks, shaking his hand. The man’s name tag reads Skipper. I guess he’s the one in charge.
“Yes, of course. We were just waiting for you and your guest,” Joe says as he turns to me with a blinding smile.
I smile back politely, excitement buzzing in my chest. I can’t wait to see where we’ll be spending the day.
“Very well, let’s get going then,” Diego announces, placing his hand on the small of my back.
A shiver races across my skin—goosebumps everywhere. His touch feels electric, like a current racing straight to my core.
As we head inside the boat, I glance around, completely mesmerized. Marble countertops, dark wood tables, soft leather seats. Everything looks clean and modern, like something straight out of a magazine.
“Is everything okay?” Diego asks, his lips almost brushing the shell of my ear.
I tilt my head to meet his gaze—those stormy blue eyes trained on me, studying, not judging. Normally, I’d shrink under that kind of scrutiny, but with him, I feel safe. It’s not curiosity, it’s connection. He just wants to get to know me.
“Yes, of course. I was just admiring how beautiful your boat is.” I hate the hint of nerves in my voice, so I busy myself tracing a finger along the polished table, pretending the view is what’s stealing my breath.
“It’s an outstanding vessel,” he says, running a hand over the sleek countertop. “But it’s not the way I’d spend my money.” He flashes me a bashful smile.
“Okay, I’ll bite. What would you rather spend your money on?” I ask, genuinely intrigued by what makes him tick.
“Why don’t I tell you while we enjoy a drink on deck?”
I brighten at the thought. “I’d love that,” I say as we head outside.
His hand never leaves my back—guiding and quietly reassuring. The sea breeze caresses my skin as the salty spray splashes the side of the boat.
When I see the setup waiting for us at the bow, I actually gasp. A small table for two sits beneath the open sky, draped in flowers, a tray of fruit and appetizers laid out beside a bucket of champagne on ice.
“It’s stunning,” I whisper, pressing my fingers to my mouth.
I didn’t want for anything growing up. I had a good childhood—love, comfort, stability. But I’ve never enjoyed this kind of luxury. And to be honest, it’s a little overwhelming.
“Hey, it’s just me,” he says softly, holding my chin between his thumb and forefinger. I close my eyes, letting his words sink in.
“Diego, we’ve known each other for less than twenty-four hours… This is crazy,” I say, letting out a breath. “There’s just no way I can feel this much—be this connected with someone—so quickly.”
“Twenty-two hours, to be exact,” he says after glancing at his watch, a mischievous, but gorgeous smirk curving his lips.
I raise a brow, and he just laughs. I can’t help the smile that breaks through—he’s impossible, and he knows it.
“It doesn’t matter if it’s been one hour or ten—or a thousand. Spending time with you is my new addiction.”
I smile at the cheesiness, but he’s unfazed. His face is relaxed, void of humor.
“I mean it, Mia. I want to spend every single second I’m awake with you.” He scratches his beard and winces. “Okay, that sounded like I’m an obsessed psycho.”
A chuckle bubbles up from my belly. “Yeah, that did sound a little creepy.”
Before I can blink, he’s tickling my sides. I dissolve into a fit of laughter, and my knees buckle as he keeps going, relentless.
“Stop, stop—Diego, please,” I gasp, trying to catch my breath.
“Or what?” he challenges, grinning.
“This!” I reach for him, but he dodges easily, sliding his hands to my hips and lifting me into the air.
I squeal, breathless and wild. For the first time in a long time, I feel free. There’s no sister to make proud, no animals needing my care and attention. Just me, a simple woman, enjoying a holiday with an incredible man.
The thought of feeling this free once we’re back home slips into my mind, and a shiver runs through my body.
What if I decide to go after my own dreams?
Yeah, I’m good at my job, but it’s not something I dreamed of being since I was little.
Is it too late for me to go to college? Would Carly approve of me moving out?
For crying out loud, I’m a twenty-five-year-old woman. I can’t keep living for my sister’s approval.
Diego jumps with me, and we fall onto the sunbathing net. The brief free fall steals my breath. I close my eyes, letting the rush wash over me—the laughter, the salt air, the heat of him beside me.
“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” he asks quickly, body hovering protectively over mine.
I crack one eye open and grin. “I’m okay, but I could be better.” I bite my lower lip.
“Hmm, maybe this’ll help.”
He kisses me, and I sigh into him. Diego takes his time. His hands roam my chest, big, warm, and exploring. When his palms spread across my belly, I moan.
“Fuck, Mia,” he whispers against my lips, voice raw.
“Same, Fall Guy. Same.” My hands slide up his back, pulling him flush against me. His big erection presses into my core, making my head spin.
He breaks the kiss, breath ragged. “I can’t wait to be inside you—clearly,” he says, glancing down between us.
A laugh bubbles out of me, soft and breathless.
“But not here. Not like this,” he adds.
I nod in agreement as he helps me sit up. We bounce on the net for a few seconds, trying to shake off our lust-fogged thoughts. As much as I’m dying to be with him, I wouldn’t want the entire crew to witness it.
Once he regains composure, Diego pops open the champagne and pours us each a glass. He raises his flute, eyes locked on mine.
“To us,” he says simply.
“To us,” I echo, smiling as our glasses meet.
“So tell me,” I start—and I can see the moment a lightbulb goes off in his brain.
“Yes, what I’d rather spend my money on,” he says, circling the deck like he’s gathering his thoughts.
“My family’s business is hospitality, and I truly enjoy talking to people, closing deals.
Seeing our legacy grow.” He pauses, takes a sip of his drink.
“But I think building resorts in paradise isn’t the only way we can expand. ”
My brows pull together, intrigued.