Island Affair (Keys to Love #1) - Priscilla Oliveras Page 0,77
her eyes. “Whatever.”
“How about we forget role-playing around others for a little while, and spend some time just you and me,” Luis suggested. “Maybe a bike ride around the island while your parents and the others golf?”
“You don’t have plans with your family?”
For some reason she had assumed he would drop her off at the rental home now that everyone else was at brunch and she’d be on her own this afternoon while he did some regular Navarro Sunday activity.
He shook his head. “I’m all yours.”
Whether he meant it or not, the double entendre had Sara imagining all the delicious things they could do together if he really was “all hers.”
As if he read her wicked thoughts, Luis’s lips spread in a mischievous grin. He edged closer, wedging himself between her knees. His large hands settled on her hips, sending furls of desire spiraling into her belly.
“What do you think?” he asked.
What she couldn’t stop thinking about was how badly she ached to slide to the edge of the leather seat, wrap her legs around his waist, and invite him even closer. But this was a church parking lot, with parishioners trickling out after fellowship time. And she’d already had a close call nearly running into one of his family members.
“So, you’re offering me a personal island bike tour?” she asked, excitement rising to brighten what had been shaping up to be a dull afternoon ahead.
“Yup.”
“Just the two of us?”
Luis nodded.
“No complaints when I stop for a ton of pictures?”
“Nope.”
“Or ask you to play photographer for me?”
“Add me to your list of devoted paparazzi.”
Her heart melted at his silly answer. The idea of spending more time with Luis, alone, without the guise of their fake relationship hanging over them, sounded absolutely perfect.
“Heck yes, I’m in!” she blurted.
Luis leaned into the truck to press a far-too-quick but oh, so delicious kiss on her lips. Before she could react, he backed away to shut the door, then hurry around to his side of the vehicle. In seconds they were pulling out of the parking lot and making a left off the side road onto Truman Avenue.
In the passenger rearview mirror, Sara spotted a black SUV similar to the one Enrique had driven make the turn with them. The SUV followed for a bit, but Luis made a right onto a narrow street and the car continued straight.
Back at the rental home, she headed upstairs to quick-change out of church clothes into her bathing suit along with a running skirt and racerback tank top while Luis hunted down the white binder filled with helpful details and notes the homeowners had prepared. He saved the combination for the bike locks on his phone, then changed his clothes while she grabbed bottles of water from the fridge and added them to the shoulder bag filled with their beach towels and sunscreen.
Out on the back lawn near the storage shed, Luis held out a faded red ball cap. She took it, running her pointer finger over the gray and white KW embroidered on the front.
“What’s this for?” she asked.
“To shield your face from the sun. I wasn’t kidding, it’s brutal.”
She turned the hat over in her hands, the bill curved from what looked like years of use. Inside, she found the initials LN with #21 in black permanent marker.
“Is this your number?” she asked, swiping her thumb over the handwriting.
“Yeah. That’s my old baseball cap from when I played in high school.”
“Aww, and you trust me with it? I’m touched.” She swatted the hat at him, secretly feeling like a high schooler, beguiled by the hunky team captain inviting her to wear his letter jacket.
“It’s a classic, so don’t lose it,” he warned, playfully. “Here, let me adjust it.”
He took the cap, deftly tightened the headband, then looped it over her head. His fingers carefully tugged her ponytail through the opening at the back.
“How’s that feel?”
Perfect.
“Good,” she answered.
“Now I won’t worry about your beautiful face getting fried. I doubt your followers would be happy about that.”
“I could always write a post about the importance of sunscreen, pairing it with an approved product sponsor.”
“Always thinking, aren’t you?” He tapped the tip of her nose and winked, making her swoon like a smitten teen again.
Soon they were pedaling down Eaton Street headed toward the main drag where they came to a stop at the red light.
“There’s too much traffic to bike down Duval,” Luis told her, his eyes hidden behind a pair of black Ray-Bans. “Let’s make a