All the Feels (Spoiler Alert #2)(84)

At some point, she’d realized he was training her, as if she were a seal clapping for fish. If she wanted quiet, she had to french him.

It was utterly ridiculous and utterly Alex, and she should be indignant.

She would be, any moment now. Once the memory of his tongue sliding against hers stopped sending spears of heat between her legs.

Sea glass really shouldn’t turn her on like this.

“I have no idea what you mean. I don’t remember hearing anything about coyotes or lions,” Alex said, making no attempt to sound sincere. He straightened and stretched, both hands pressed to the graceful arch of his spine. “Shit, I’m sore today. Is this what the kids call blowing someone’s back out?”

The sky had clouded over that morning, and a blustery wind swept his hair back from his face and plastered his clothing against his hard, honed body. He smiled down at her, bearded cheeks creased with happiness, gray eyes bright, and held out his hand for more of her sea glass mementos.

Too awed by him to speak—although she would never, ever admit that—she passed over an amber, rounded square.

He was magnificent. Unbelievably beautiful.

And not long from now, he’d be hers. Above her. Inside her.

Immediately after checking out that morning, they’d hit the nearest CVS and purchased a good chunk of the prophylactics aisle. Between that pharmacy run and all their kissing-related stops, the day’s drive had taken longer than planned, but they’d finally made it most of the way to their destination, the Benbow area. His ex’s wedding amongst the redwoods was tomorrow, and the reception would be held at the same hotel where they were staying that night.

This leg of the trip was almost done, and her decision to shorten their time on the road now seemed foolish. More than foolish. Near-tragic.

The route that day had been spectacular. After going inland a bit, the PCH had returned to the gorgeous, rugged coast. Far below sharp cliffs, waves had pounded the rocky shoreline as Alex drove and drove some more. And on this very special stretch of beach—Glass Beach, near Fort Bragg—that ceaseless churn had turned years of dumped garbage into … magic. Sand scattered with a rainbow of sea glass.

She’d rarely seen anything more gorgeous.

How many other magical spots had they rushed past in their haste, all because she hadn’t wanted to leave on Saturday? They could have spent three more nights in each other’s arms. Three more days bickering and kissing and exploring.

Three more days having fun.

When was the last time she’d simply had fun?

When she got back to her feet, he entwined their fingers, his smile fading.

“You look …” He frowned. “I don’t know. Is something wrong?”

“I was thinking about how much fun I’ve had with you.” Getting on her tiptoes, she pressed a kiss to the scoop of bare skin at his neck, above his tee. He was warm there. Salty. “Thank you for suggesting a road trip together.”

That gray gaze sharpened on her, and his hands tangled in her hair, keeping her head tipped back to see his face.

“Let’s extend the trip.” The words were abrupt. Intense. “After the wedding, let’s just keep going. I’ve always wanted to drive across the country, and neither one of us is working right now. We could stretch it out over three or four months, easily.”

Oh, that was tempting. Much, much too tempting.

But his financial situation wasn’t hers, unfortunately. “Alex, the production isn’t covering my rent anymore. I can’t afford to take an indefinite amount of time off.”

He opened his mouth, and she held up a hand. “If you offer me money, I will turn around and climb back in that car and ask for a separate room tonight. If I’m sleeping with you, you’re not paying me.”

His lower lip poked out, and it shouldn’t be attractive. It wasn’t.

Okay, it was, but she was resisting its pouty allure.

“You’d be worth the money.” He waggled his brows. “Just saying.”

She set her fists on her hips and scowled at him. “Once again, please let me remind you that this is not—I repeat, not—Pretty Woman.”

“Fine.” He glowered down at her, still sulking, but he didn’t argue. “When do you need to start work again?”

“I’d rather not drain my savings, so …” Her sigh was so deep, it hurt her chest, and she rubbed a hand over her sternum. “Six weeks after we get back, maybe? And no matter which job I choose, I’ll need time to prepare.”

Heaving his own sigh, he reached out and folded her into his arms, hugging her close. “You’re the worst, Wren. The absolute worst. Good thing you’re so cute.”

Literally no one else in her life had ever called her cute. Not one.

And now her chest was hurting even more. Dammit.

“Tell me about your work options.” He was bending low again, despite his poor back, his lips against her hair. “Knowing you, I’m sure they’re all miserable.”

Well, he wasn’t entirely wrong. But he wasn’t entirely right either.

“I could join a university friend’s group practice.” His palm was sliding soothingly up and down her back, and she leaned her forehead against his chest. “I like her, but I’m iffy about a couple of the other therapists in the group.”