of using her keycard. Belle responded right away, swinging open the door and regarding them both with a smirk.
“Couldn’t drag yourself out of bed any sooner, huh?” Belle stepped aside and let them enter the room. “I was starting to wonder whether we’d miss our ferry.”
“An early-morning tour of the mansion was a terrible idea.” Tess grinned at her friend as the door shut behind them. “Why didn’t you plan our day better, Belle?”
Belle tipped her face toward the ceiling, as if beseeching the heavens for patience. “Get everything you need into your backpack, Ms. Come-On-Belle-We-Should-Get-Up-Early-To-Beat-the-Heat-and-Have-More-Time-On-the-Mainland Dunn.”
“You can see why I changed my first name to Tess,” Tess told Lucas.
At Lucas’s huff of laughter, Belle’s baleful stare lowered to Tess. “Because of you, I rose before the actual sun while on vacation, which I consider a violation of my constitutional rights.”
“She probably hasn’t had coffee yet.” Tess let go of Lucas’s hand, located her backpack in a corner of the room’s little closet, and dumped the bag onto her double bed. “Without caffeine, you could say she’s not a morning person. Much the same way Joan Crawford was not a wire hangers person.”
Belle bit back a smile. “Less flirting with Sparky. More packing.”
Lucas emitted a small, pained sound.
As Tess dropped sunblock, a hat, and the guidebook into her backpack, she considered his nickname. “Sparky? I like it.”
“Thank you. I thought it had a certain ring.” Belle donned her own sun hat and adjusted it in the closet mirror, tipping the floppy brim up a smidge.
“I call him Mr. Perky,” Tess said to Belle. “Well, part of him, anyway.”
This time, Lucas groaned loudly.
So did Belle. “I don’t want to know.”
“Interesting.” Tess added a bottle of water to the backpack. “I’m pretty sure that’s not what you’ll be saying once we’re alone, Ms. Give-Me-All-the-Details-the-More-Salacious-the-Better-and-Maybe-Draw-Some-Stick-Figures-Too-So-I-Can-Picture-Everything-More-Clearly Cantner.”
“Tattletale.” Her friend flapped a hand in the direction of the closet. “Pack, woman.”
So Tess did, throwing everything else into her backpack with much less care than usual while Lucas and Belle sat on the edges of the beds and watched. As soon as she changed her shirt in the bathroom, all three hurried out of the room, the door swinging shut behind them with a bang that made Tess wince.
Despite both women’s protests, Lucas carried their backpacks on one shoulder. On his other side, he promptly reclaimed Tess’s hand, squeezing it gently whenever she glanced his way. Which she did, often. Too often.
Together, they hustled to the dock, fast enough that Tess and Belle became breathless.
Then…silence. They’d arrived with five minutes to spare, and the woman who coordinated the ferry’s arrivals and departures was off talking to someone on her cell a few feet away. No other guests seemed to be leaving on this particular ferry, maybe because they’d chosen later activities and flights home.
“I’m going to wait”—Belle reclaimed her backpack and pointed to a weathered wooden bench—“over there. Have fun, but try not to get arrested for public indecency before the ferry arrives, okay?”
With a shake of her head, Tess watched her friend’s retreat. Only to discover she suddenly had no idea what to say to Lucas. See you later, and thanks for all the great sex seemed flippant. Hope you didn’t hurt your wrist rubbing my clit with such talented industriousness last night seemed a bit too graphic for an early-morning conversation. Holy Christ, I think I could fall in love with you way too easily seemed…well, ill-advised at best.
Desperate, she turned toward the water instead of him.
The ocean, sparkling and aquamarine, lapped against the dock’s pilings and tumbled in gentle waves onto the white sands of the shore. It was beautiful and pristine, and a good place to fix her gaze while she figured out what to say.
After setting her backpack on the dock, his free hand squeezing hers the whole time, he broke the silence. “We should exchange information.”
Oh, yeah. At the moment, she had no way of contacting him except through the hotel, and he had no way of contacting her at all once she left.
The realization struck home. They’d known each other for a total of five days. Five. Days. Yet somehow they were already entangled, and—damn her doubts—she ached for even more ties binding him to her.
For now, acquiring his contact information would have to suffice.
“I always have a stash of pens and sticky notes in my purse, just in case.” She unzipped the middle compartment. “Do you want me to write down everything for you, instead of dictating it?”
He