Fractured Freedom(37)

“Probably.” He shrugged and kept walking like he knew the way to the restaurant.

“Have you stayed here before?”

“Once or twice,” he admitted, and I sighed. No wonder he had breakfast connections.

I didn’t pester him about not disclosing that information. He’d been all around the world, so I couldn’t expect him to share everything. Plus, the weather was a balmy eighty degrees and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. My day at the beach would be perfect.

“I might try snorkeling today,” I said. “It could be one of the things I love enough to pray to.”

He squinted. “So praying is just being grateful for new hobbies?”

“Sure.” We got to the restaurant that overlooked part of the beach and the pools that sparkled in the sunlight and were seated immediately. “I figure my mom already raised me with church every Sunday, and I don’t know. I don’t have things I know I like to do other than read and study.”

“You like studying?” He lifted a dark brow.

“Well, I like doing well in school and in my career. I like learning new things.”

He chuckled. “What’s your work schedule going to be? I can teach you a hobby or two that doesn’t involve studying.”

The waiter came by to take our order, then I rambled off my weekly schedule. “I work twelve hour shifts three days a week because the ER has long hours. I leave a bit early to catch Ubers, though.”

“I can get you a driver.”

“The government will do that?” I asked, not understanding that type of perk. Then I shook my head. It was confidential and he wasn’t going to tell me more. “It’s fine. The hospital reimburses because I was supposed to have a place closer to them, but it filled up.”

He nodded, but it was like he wasn’t listening. “A driver would be best.”

“Dante—”

“Lilah, we follow my rules for protecting you and your bucket list gets done, okay?”

Our bickering was cut off by our food arriving and me trying a quesito. It was a fluffy pastry wrapped around cheese, and I almost fell on the table in delight as I savored it. “Okay, I should have tried these way sooner.”

Dante sipped his water and winked at me. “I think we might have found your favorite food here.”

I smirked, and the butterflies that had long been dormant with other men fluttered to life. Avoiding his charm was near impossible when my heart knew him so well and my body longed for him. So I embraced the good meal with good company and relaxed. When I finished, I grabbed my sunglasses out of my beach bag, along with my Kindle.

He asked, “What are you reading?”

“Would you believe me if I said a self-help book?” It was a lie. My kindle was filled with hot men on covers and spice so hot that I was sure my face was on fire.

“Lamb, when you blush like that, it’s motivation for me to steal the thing from you to read myself. Self-help doesn’t do that to you.”

“Well, it could be a different sort of self-help.” I shrugged, and my cheeks heated even more. Was I flirting with him now?

“Okay.” He narrowed his eyes in challenge. “What’s the self-help you’re reading today?”

I bit my lip. “Well, the guy in this one explores temperature play with the main character.”

I saw how his eyes widened just a fraction and I tried my best not to glance away.

“Anyway,” I announced fast while I pointed at the lounge chairs out on the sand, “Time for me to go read.”

“I’m thinking I might enjoy reading with you,” he mumbled it so quiet, I wasn’t sure he wanted me to hear him. Then he cleared his throat. “I’ll go for a swim and grab a few towels.”

I waved him off, my heart beating from just our little bit of flirting. I needed to get away from him, try to relax, and enjoy what I had come here to do in the first place.

Explore the world, Delilah. And maybe explore some men, my therapist had told me. As I spread out on one of the lounge chairs, I remembered that she’d also said to bring my romance novels to Puerto Rico and take a page out of one or two of them. She said I deserved to be happy.

Happiness was fickle, though, and I’d been chasing it a long time. Through grades, through the approval of others, through doing what I thought was the right thing.

I found my eyes drifting to the one thing I wasn’t supposed to indulge in that seemed to bring me all the happiness.

Dante.

He stood there in all his glory, smiling at a beautiful towel girl who flipped her hair dramatically in front of him.

When he laughed at something she said, I blew a raspberry. I was far enough away and the waves crashed loud enough that he wouldn’t hear.

That view of him with another woman was exactly why I needed this place to myself. My body needed to stop lusting over a man who didn’t lust over me anymore. I needed to get over my trauma and move on.

And that need had me scrolling my Tinder account and swiping left and right for what felt like an hour. It was draining trying to figure out if any of those men would even be compatible.

I started messaging a guy who I thought was really good-looking and figured I could work through the texts I’d gotten during the time I’d been in jail.

I’d avoided them until now, thinking it would be too much to lie to everyone.