Take Three (The Jilted Bride #2)(48)

“Shhh,” he kissed my cheek.

We walked in silence for a long time. Occasionally he would tell me to watch my step or to stop, but he didn’t initiate any further conversation.

I tried to guess my surroundings by flailing my arms about from time to time, but after losing my balance and falling forward a couple times, I gave up trying to figure it out.

The smell was familiar—newly cut grass, wet leaves, and a freshwater lake—but there were too many parts of Arkansas that fit that description.

“Stop. We’re here,” he let my hand go and slowly moved the blindfold away from my eyes.

I blinked over and over to make sure that what I was looking at was real.

In front of me was a massive white-sanded beach, but we didn’t have white-sanded beaches in Arkansas—at least I’d never seen one. Especially one like this: The sand went on for miles and miles. There were tons of tropical palm trees—definitely not indigenous, an array of bright blue beach chairs near the “shoreline,” and a huge fire pit that was surrounded by large gray stones.

There was a white hammock swaying between two of the larger palm trees, and my name was etched in cursive on massive umbrellas that stood in the distance.

Where did the palm trees come from? We’re only a couple hours away from Fayetteville…We couldn’t have gotten to Florida that fast… And why is the sand white? This doesn’t make any sense…unless… Did he have this made? Like, did he PAY to have this done?

“Yes,” he said as if he’d heard my thoughts. “You mentioned your favorite place to be was the beach so I thought I’d bring you one since you can’t go out of town for a while…You won’t have to worry about any paparazzi while we’re here either.”

I can’t believe I’m not dreaming…This is incredible…What exactly does he do for a living again?

He wrapped his arms around my waist and looked into my eyes. “Say something.”

I was speechless. I wasn’t sure what to say. No one had ever done anything like this for me before.

“Is something wrong?” he pressed. “Are you okay?”

I’m more than okay…

“That picnic basket that was way back there really wasn’t for us?”

“No, it was a momentary distraction. Ours is over there,” he pointed to a large wicker basket that was sitting on a blanket near the “shore.”

I looked at the beach, at the basket, then back at him. Before I could say anything else, he bent down and kissed me, bringing me down to the sand with him.

“You don’t like it?” he whispered.

“I love it…I just wasn’t expecting—”

He kissed me again—making my entire body go numb, and laughed when I attempted to pull off his shirt.

He gently pinned my arms to the sand and smiled. “Slow, remember?”

I absolutely regret saying that now…

I followed him over to the picnic basket and wondered how he’d managed to get the normally still lake water to appear so “ocean-like”: It was lapping up over the sand every few seconds, forming large scale waves that crashed over each other again and again.

“I had this made especially for you,” he handed me a plate of weird green balls that were swimming in a pukish-yellow sauce.

“Eeeww!” the look of it almost made me vomit. “What the hell is this? It looks disgusting!”

“Spinach and ricotta gnudi,” he smirked. “Your favorite.”

“Very funny… Aren’t you glad I was so easy going today?”

“Ha! You’re not easy-going at all Selena,” he laughed. “But I think I like you anyway.”

I blushed and took a grape off his plate. “I’m not sure if I like you or not yet…How far does this sand stretch out?”

“Ten miles total, five miles both ways.”

Wow…

“You didn’t spend your life’s savings on this project did you? Actually, don’t answer that. I have something for you,” I reached into my jeans and handed him the hundred thousand dollar check. “You might need this someday.”

He laughed heartily and pushed it back towards me. “I can afford it. Trust me. It was the best purchase I’ve made all year…Would you like to go for a walk before the sun sets?”

I didn’t answer him, but the next thing I knew, he was slipping my shoes off and pulling me to my feet.

“I want to know everything there is to know about you, Selena—the real Selena Ross, not the Hollywood one,” he wrapped his arm around my shoulders and guided me down the sand.

I lay next to Ethan in the hammock and sighed.

“Don’t stop,” he caressed my face. “I’m listening.”

“My dad used to take me to the Gulf Shore beaches in Alabama every summer,” I looked at him. “Like clockwork, every last weekend of July, he would treat me and my mom to a trip to the beach and it would always be amazing…That’s what I remember most about him. He stayed true to his word and he never let me down.”

“He went to all your recitals and shows?”

“Every last one,” I smiled. “When Sweet Seasons started to get profitable for my mom, I was in middle school. My mom was still learning how to run a business and she didn’t have the staff that she has now, so she had to work a whole lot of hours…My dad was the one taking me dress shopping for pageants and going with me to auditions. We got to bond a lot that way.”