PRINCE CHARMING: A Stepbrother Secret Baby Romance(29)



She slid to a stop in front of the statue he’d shown her a few days ago and pulled the arm. The passage opened, and Olivia ran into it. The sound of the waves crashing soothed her, and when she came out the other end, she tripped and fell into the sand.

“Stupid dress,” she snapped and scrambled to get back to her feet. It ripped down the side and she cursed, holding the tear as tears filled her eyes.

It was all Quincy’s fault, always his fault. Since she’d arrived on this damn island, she had been dealing with him and his issues. All she wanted was to go home to Nebraska and forget about all of this. She wanted her jeans and her boots, her flannel shirts and quiet evenings painting as she overlooked the fields that surrounded their home.

She took her shoes off before she ruined them and pulled out Quincy’s bin to keep them somewhere safe. Her skirt was ripped anyway, so Olivia made her way to the stones that stood out of the water and climbed up on them. She held her skirts high so she could see her feet and the water that splashed onto her legs. The water was cool despite the warm, humid air around her, and it felt good to be out there with only the waves to keep her company. Maybe she could disappear here for the rest of the night. So much for her first ball appearance—her mom would kill her, but she’d come up with some excuse.

The moon was high in the night sky, and she sat down on the stones, dangling her feet in the water, thinking about her life. She had no idea how much time had passed and didn’t care. This was where she wanted to be, and as a future princess, didn’t think anyone could tell her otherwise.

“If you stay out here long enough, you might turn into a pumpkin.”

Olivia jumped but didn’t turn at the sound of Quincy’s voice. “Why should you care?”

“Because I’d prefer not to have you be a pumpkin. Not as pretty that way.”

She glanced over her shoulder. He was standing there in his white shirt and tuxedo pants but no jacket or vest. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets, and damned if he didn’t look gorgeous in the moonlight.

“Sorry I commandeered your place,” she mumbled and turned back to stare out over the water. “I needed to hide for a while.”

“I don’t mind. You can come here any time you like. You’re the only one I’ve ever shared this with.”

“You don’t have to lie to me, Quincy.”

He cursed, and she turned again to find him kicking off his shoes and socks as he made his way to the rocks she sat on. “I’m not, damn it, and I don’t know why you keep saying that.”

“Why else would you kiss me like that?”

“Maybe because we have a mutual attraction to each other—and don’t even think about lying,” he said, pointing a finger at her. “I know you feel it, too, ever since you stepped foot in my kingdom. We can try and hide it all we want, but it’s there.”

Olivia’s shoulders sagged. She didn’t want to lie to him about how she felt, but it was still wrong, wasn’t it? “So what?” she said. “I’m not going to let you use me to get out of your predicament.”

“I don’t want to use you.” He licked his lips and shrugged. “I want you, Olivia.”

She stood, knowing she needed to put this to rest for good and force them both to get over it, but the rocks were slick from the water and she lost her footing. Her arms windmilled through the air as she yelled and tumbled into the water. It wasn’t deep, but the weight of the dress yanked her down.

“Olivia!” Quincy was there a second later, hoisting her up by her waist, and helped her back to the beach. “Are you alright? Did you hit your head?”

She wiped a hand over her face and shoved her messy hair out of the way to sputter, “No, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Fine. This dress is just ungodly heavy now, and I can’t walk.” She stared at the beautiful hand-made gown and suddenly everything was funny. The ruined gown and her hair, even her infatuation with Quincy. It was funny, and she laughed until her sides hurt. Quincy stared at her with narrowed eyes. “What? Don’t you ever just laugh at the world?”

“I do, but usually in better circumstances. Olivia, I don’t know what to tell you to make you believe me, but—”

“Kiss me.”

His mouth fell open and he licked his lips. “What?”

“I said, kiss me. You want to and I want you to, so to hell with it. We can kiss and get it out of our systems, right?”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” he said, but Olivia quickly lost patience.

She cupped her hands around his cheeks and stood on her toes in the sand to kiss him. His lips moved against hers, and his arms followed, wrapping around her waist and pulling her against him. Olivia’s hands moved from his face to his neck, and she pressed herself against him, driving them farther up the beach. He pulled the rest of her hair down from the pins and ran his hands through it, massaging her scalp as her hand sought his shirt.

“What are we doing?” he whispered against her lips.

“I don’t know. Do you want to stop?” She stared into his eyes, but the look in them said he wouldn’t walk away unless she told him to.

“Blanket, we need a blanket,” he muttered. He hurried to the bin she’d already pulled out of the sand. He glanced at her ballet flats with a smile, pulled the blanket out, and spread it over the sand.

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