“Wait,” she says, raising her hand to show off the two necklaces. “Which one do you think Lily would like?” And now I feel like an ass. She just wanted to buy her sister jewelry.
Lily doesn’t wear necklaces often, and the fact that I know this over Daisy makes me feel kind of good. But an uneasiness spins my stomach—because it means that our isolation has strained her relationship with her sisters. And I have to remind myself that this trip is about rebuilding everything we’ve ignored.
I think Lil would like anything that came from Daisy. I inspect both necklaces, one with a black rope and the other with a chain.
Daisy brushes her finger along the rope necklace. “This pendant has a guy sticking out his tongue. I thought she’d get a kick out of it.”
“Definitely,” I say.
Daisy spins back to Ernesto and hands him the chain necklace. “Just this one.” She holds up the rope necklace to buy. “How much?”
“Two-hundred-and-sixty,” he says with a thick accent.
She gapes. “What?”
“Pesos. Pesos. Pesos,” he says quickly, afraid of losing a sale. “Twenty dollars. Two-sixty pesos.”
“Ohhh.” Daisy’s eyes light up. She laughs like she didn’t know any better, but she spent all morning helping Lily understand the peso-dollar conversion before she went shopping. Daisy said that she became an expert at currency calculations in Europe during shoots and Fashion Week.
“Daisy,” I warn. And here I thought Ryke was going to cause trouble.
Ryke cocks his head at me, brows raised like I told you. Yeah, he told me she jumped off a cliff, I didn’t think that equated to conning a local on the beach.
Daisy waves me off. “One minute, sweetie.”
Ryke stiffens and I just frown. What the hell is going on?
“I only have…” She pulls out a wad of cash from her bikini top like it’s nothing, like Ernesto’s eyes haven’t just zoned in on her breasts. She counts the bills one by one, really fucking slowly. “…Two-hundred pesos.” Her big green eyes rise innocently to Ernesto, but he’s still looking at her tits.
I step forward, irritated beyond belief. “Hey.” I snap my fingers at him. “Two-hundred pesos?”
Ernesto finally looks to me and begins to shake his head.
“Oh no,” Daisy says quickly. She wraps her arm around my waist and presses her head against my chest. I immobilize. “We’re on our honeymoon, you see, and I promised my sister I’d bring her back something. She’d just love this. I know it. Could you make an exception just this once, please?”
My eyes widen at Ryke, but he’s just glaring, and when I mean glaring, I mean he has the whole Frankenstein’s monster routine down. Hard set jaw, clenched fists, taut shoulders, and tight lips. He looks about ready for a fight. But I’m not sure who he wants to pummel.
“No. Two-sixty,” Ernesto repeats.
Daisy’s shoulders slacken and she turns to me, her hands on my chest. “Do you have any pesos on you, sweetie?”
“No, so maybe we should cut our losses, dear.”
“Give me your money,” Ryke says, holding out his hand to her.
Her face lights up and she thankfully steps away and returns to Ryke, out of earshot of the locals. I follow close behind. “Are you going to haggle in Spanish?” she asks him, sliding the bills into his palm.
“Sure,” he says. “First give me the rest of your cash.”
“It’s all in your hand.”
“It’s in your boobs.”
I scowl, not wanting him to say anything about her boobs. Ever. She’s Daisy Calloway.
Daisy looks down at her breasts with a frown, and I turn my grimace to the sky. I’m blaming this situation on you, God. For allowing little sisters to have breasts.
“I don’t see anything in there.”
“I would check myself, but I’m here with a girl,” Ryke says dryly.
Okay. No. If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s speaking my fucking mind. “There are actually a million other fucking reasons you shouldn’t,” I say coldly, my blood turning to ice.
Daisy just ignores me and says, “Melissa left three minutes ago when you refused to go to her side. What’s your excuse now?”
She challenges him.
And he’s the type of guy willing to take it.
I stand between them before Ryke can answer her. I raise my eyebrows at Ryke in disbelief. I seriously thought I was dreaming what happened at the pool. It wasn’t fucking anything, I told myself. He was being nice, prodding her to eat a taco, even though he should have passed it to her rather than let her bite it from his hand. He shouldn’t have rubbed sauce off her chin. He shouldn’t have joked with her about fucking Melissa. There are so many things he should not do. But I let myself believe that he’s just an idiot. He doesn’t understand boundaries. That is Ryke’s biggest problem.