The Paradise Problem (35)

Or should I let it go? It’s not like she intentionally did anything wrong. Some people are just sleep-cuddlers, I guess.

But if I let it go, it’s unlikely to be a onetime thing. If she found her way to me on our first night together, she’s only going to do that more as we grow more comfortable with each other.

“What do you think?”

My father’s question penetrates my fog, finally, and I straighten, pushing my salt-water-and-sweat damp hair off my forehead. The sun has only just come up and it’s already sweltering. I bet Anna has already kicked off the blankets, letting the air cool her overheated skin.

Her legs—

“Liam.”

I snap over to where he’s watching me expectantly, annoyance etched in every line on his face. There’s some real dark magic at work here, because he’s sixty-one years old and barely breaking a sweat. “About what?” I ask.

“About Krantz.”

I squint to the distance, piecing together the words from the past few minutes. It infuriates me that he thinks he can ask me for my thoughts on business issues after everything, but I know Anna is right and showing up isn’t enough. The only way to placate him this week is to play along. “I think if he can’t even come up on share price, then he doesn’t get a meeting. Eighty is a nonstarter. Call Marty Chu over at Liberty and see if he’s willing to play now that Doug is hungry for it. Marty always lets others do the legwork for him. I bet he bites now.” I hook a thumb over my shoulder. “We good? I’m gonna go shower.”

Without waiting for an answer, I turn and jog back to the bungalow and the woman who, after a single day here, is hijacking my every waking thought.



* * *



“JESUS CHRIST,” I BLURT, the second I turn at the corner of our bridge and step onto the deck of our bungalow. Anna is curled up in a papasan, with a sketch pad in her seemingly bare lap. Honestly, from the first glimpse I get, I think she might be naked. “What are you doing?”

I’ve got a hand over my eyes, but I hear the creaking sound of her standing, the soft padding of her bare feet on the deck. “I’m sketching. What the heck do you think I’m doing, you weirdo?”

I can smell sunblock and her shampoo, and carefully lower my hand to find her only a foot away from me. I’m relieved to see she isn’t actually naked, but she might as well be. Her… bathing suit? Is essentially a few palm-sized scraps of tropical-print fabric. “Oh. I thought you were sitting naked in the chair just now.”

“Right?” she says forcefully, gesturing to her, wow, incredibly lithe body. “Vivi bought me four suits, and this is the one with the most coverage. How am I supposed to swim in it? It’s dental floss. Also, the tag was still attached, and I pulled out my phone to do the math: the price per square inch is criminal. I might have to wear it to the wedding to help justify the cost.”

My tongue feels too big for my mouth. Thank God she managed to get it on with those nails, because I never would have survived having to tie those flimsy straps around her back. “I need to shower.”

“I see that, Mr. Shirtless.” I frown, and she laughs, amending, “Sorry. Of course, I meant Professor Shirtless.”

I turn to walk inside, but she stops me with a hand on my arm. The muscles of my stomach jump with the contact. “Just be quick, okay, because we have kayaking in an hour, and I want to grab something to eat first.”

“Kayaking?” I shake my head and walk toward the bathroom. “Pass.”

Anna follows me. She’s loosely made the bed, but it still looks rumpled. Slept in. By both of us. I squeeze my eyes shut against the reminder.

“You can’t pass,” she says. “It’s on the official itinerary.”

“It’s not like they’ll fine us if we don’t show up to everything.”

“Sounds good. I’ll send a message to your mom that we’re too busy having kinky sex to see anyone today. I’m sure she’ll understand.”

My brain shorts out before I can formulate a response.

She glowers at me. “It’s your sister’s wedding, you cyborg. You’re a groomsman.”

I sigh. I know she’s right but I’m already sleep-deprived and functioning on less than full brain power today. I’m not sure I’m capable of dealing with both my family and Anna in this suit after last night. “Fine.”

But she doesn’t move. I raise my eyebrows. “Hello?”

“What?”

Her eyes are focused on my bare chest, and I feel a current of satisfaction at seeing her derailed, too. Perhaps she doesn’t remember what showering in this tropical goldfish bowl means. It means I’ll be standing in a very beautiful but very open tiled corner at the back of the room.

Fuck it.

I reach up, tucking my thumbs into my waistband and dropping my shorts to the bathroom floor.

“Oh!” Anna jerks a hand over her eyes. “Your Goddamn! Right there!” She turns away. “Sorry! I just—spaced out—on your—God. And you’re not even harrrrrrr—Fuck me.” She coughs. “Okay. I’ll just meet you down at the restaurant.”

I see her shadow pass by the window near the bedroom, hear her footsteps grow distant as she jogs down our bridge. I hold my breath, waiting a few seconds longer until I’m sure she’s gone before I turn on the water and step beneath the spray. With the memory of the heat of her leg over my hips, the view of her in that tiny bikini, and the echo of her soft breath in my ear, now I am hard.