“I’m sorry,” I say in a ragged breath. “You do. When we get to where we’re going, we’ll talk properly. I promise. There is an explanation.”
I can’t resist reaching over with one hand and brushing the curve of her cheek. Her face briefly leans into my palm. The things she does to me with a simple touch.
“Deal?” I ask, my eyes sweeping over her.
“Deal,” she says after a long minute. But her eyes are still hesitant.
No photographers follow, so we drive along the coast until the city lights are beyond us, with the music blaring, and the wind flowing through the open windows of the car that we’d rolled down once we were clear of town.
All I want is to keep driving until we’re as far away as we can get from the pressures of life.
As I drive, I wonder, What if I do what Olivia has been doing? A risk at a time. Tonight can be my first.
But it isn’t me I fear hurting.
I’d risk my heart every moment of every day for her.
But it’s her heart, her life, I’m playing with. Not just mine.
CHAPTER 30
Olivia
“We’re going to this house?” I ask when we drive down a long, winding road that leads to a small home perched above the sea.
Chase hops out and comes around to open my door. He grasps my hand and helps me out of the low-slung car.
“Not the house. There.” He points to a small strip of sand amid rocky boulders.
“Is that what I think it is?” I ask in wonder.
“A picnic.”
“A candlelight picnic on the beach. And twinkly lights! This is insane.”
“I can’t take all the credit. Emma did the organizing, and the guards set it up.”
“When you say guards, do you mean bodyguards?”
“They prefer ‘close protection officers,’” Chase says with a smile.
Here, I’ve been giddy, thinking it’s just the two of us. I should’ve known Chase wouldn’t let us go out alone. I look around but don’t see anyone.
“This place is remote, and we weren’t followed. Duncan would have called me if we had been. But the bodyguards are still a necessity, Olivia.”
I look down at the scene below. It’s straight out of a romantic movie. A checkered picnic blanket set with a basket and place settings is illuminated by dozens of candles. Twinkle lights wind through the surrounding trees.
“This is incredible, Chase. The nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” I admit.
His face cracks into a boyish, pleased smile. “Be glad I took control of this risk. Kenji wanted to take you to see Murder Cult 5. He says horror movies are good for getting laid because the girl will be too scared to sleep by herself.”
“I am glad it’s you,” I say simply.
There’s so much more I want to say, so much I want to ask, but the words clog in my throat. Maybe he has a bottle of wine down there that will give me the liquid courage to get the answers I crave.
I bend down and untie my sandals. His gaze follows my movement. When my shoes are off, I hold them in one hand. He takes my other hand as we walk, steadying me. I’m sure holding my hand is more practical than romantic, with us clambering down the narrow path to the sea. But with his fingers clasped in mine and the wide ocean before us, I don’t care.
Nothing else matters but the wind whipping around me that tastes like freedom and the touch of Chase’s skin that feels like joy. I’ve never felt more alive. Or grateful to be just where I am.
I turn to look at him, only to find him intently staring.
“Your smile,” he says.
“What about my smile?”
“It’s so beautiful, it hurts.”
Instead of accepting the compliment gracefully, I say, “Oh. No. I’m definitely not beautiful.”
Then I trip over a rock.
He laughs, and he snakes his arm around my waist to catch me before I fall. His strong arm is still around me when our feet hit the sand.
It’s the picnic of every girl’s dreams. There are blankets and pillows, and a wicker basket filled with food next to a tray of two champagne flutes and champagne on ice.
I shyly look up at him. With the dramatic shadows in the dark, he appears older and even more intimidating than usual.
“You like?” His voice is a husky murmur.
“I like.”
His smile widens. “Are you hungry?”
“Starving.”
Another benefit of crowding onto a blanket is proximity. Our legs touch as we stretch out to get comfortable.
The picnic basket is bewitched. Out of it comes a seemingly endless array of sandwiches, grapes, cheese, crackers, and pastel-colored cookies.