The Honeymoon Prize (9 page)

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Authors: Melissa McClone

BOOK: The Honeymoon Prize
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“I would forget what Brad said.”

She nodded. “I debated between kissing you and dropping my bikini top. Kissing was faster.”

“It worked.” Nick winked. “Though the bikini top would have, too.”

He wasn’t upset. Good. Maybe she shouldn’t be. People kissed all the time. Well, everyone except her. Not passionately, at least. Not for a long time, but no reason to freak out now. If anyone understood her, Nick did.

“The crew seemed pleased by our enthusiasm,” he added.

Nodding, she stared at a tiny sand crab digging a hole in the sand. As soon as her lips touched Nick’s, she’d forgotten about the filming. No cameras and crew had existed. Only Nick. Getting caught up in her first real—well, pretend—passionate kiss in years could happen to anyone when your toes curled, right? She looked over at him. “No retakes required.”

“We got it right the first time.” His grin spread to his eyes, crinkling the corners. He was so gorgeous. “Thanks to you, Brad got the lip action he wanted.”

“A little awkward.” There. She’d said what else was bothering her.

“You think?”

Huh? She searched Nick’s face to see if he was joking. He looked serious. Odd, because friends normally didn’t straddle friends while wearing almost nothing and kissing them at the same time. “Didn’t you?”

“Seemed like a regular kiss to me.”

“Oh.” She didn’t know what to say. Not many kisses had left her clinging to a guy, hot and aching for more. But then again, kissing wasn’t something she’d done since she dropped out of college. “It’s just, we’re friends. Things have always been platonic between us, and then we’re out in the water kissing like crazy.”

“Not awkward. We did what they asked us to do. We kissed like two newlyweds who can’t keep their hands off each other. The film crew is happy. Brad, especially.” Nick opened the lid to the picnic basket. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think we were on our honeymoon.”

Her heart hammered against her breastbone, so loudly she could count each beat. She felt the same way. Maybe that was why she’d felt so awkward. Kissing Nick seemed natural and right, the way she’d dreamed kissing him would feel. Her desire hadn’t been faked. Nothing about her actions had been pretend. “Then I . . . we succeeded.”

He nodded, removing containers from the basket. “I have no doubt we’re going to pull this off now.

Addie couldn’t disagree, but this felt weird. Friends shouldn’t be so comfortable kissing one another.

“We’ve got lobster, roasted vegetables, bread, fresh fruit, and cookies for lunch,” he said.

“I know what I’m starting with.” Exotic orange, yellow, and pink fruit filled a small basket he’d set out. She chose a red apple, something familiar, and took a bite.

Kissing Nick had proven they could act like a honeymoon couple. Nothing else had changed. But a part of Addie felt like everything in her life had done a one-eighty because of the kiss. She couldn’t stop thinking about how being in Nick’s arms felt or how his kiss tasted or how she wanted . . . more.

“What?” he said.

“Huh?”

“You keep biting your lip.”

“Do not,” she countered. “I’m eating an apple.”

“You’re doing it now.”

She realized she was gnawing on her lip.

“Tell me what’s on your mind,” he said.

Addie took another bite.

Nick pulled out the champagne. Water from the ice dripped down the bottle. “Come on. We’ve talked about almost everything. This isn’t any different.”

True, but . . . “Two subjects have been off limits.”

“Only one after you loaned me a backpack filled with tampons and pads.”

“I forgot about that.”

“I haven’t. Especially since I wasn’t the one to find them. Mickey Henry had that honor. Man, the look on his face.” Nick laughed. “As long as you don’t want to talk about having sex with some guy, I’m good.”

What about wanting to have sex with him? She shook the thought from her head. “The kiss seemed almost . . .”

“What?”

“Too easy.”

A look of relief flashed across his face. “Easy, yes. But explainable if you take a look around.”

She did. “A secluded cove?”

He nodded. “We’re in a tropical cove with clear turquoise water and fine, white sand. Palm trees lining the edges. Rugged rocks to provide additional privacy.”

“I can see why the crew wanted to film here today.”

“Exactly. The entire place, this island, screams romance. That’s why couples come from all over the world to vacation here.” He opened the champagne bottle. The cork popped. “The setting adds oomph to kisses.”

She saw his point, except—“Even kisses between friends?”

“Especially those. Look at us. We’re not wearing cold-weather gear. Lots of skin-to-skin contact. Easy to get caught up in the moment.”

She straightened. “Were you caught up, too?”

“Damn straight. Couldn’t you tell?”

His hands had been all over her. She swallowed. “I wasn’t analyzing what was happening as we kissed.”

“Me, either. Which is another reason the kiss was so easy. We weren’t thinking.” He poured champagne into two glasses, then handed her one. “The others shouldn’t be much different.”

Others? A shiver ran down her spine. Addie drank from her champagne glass. Too much. She choked. Coughed.

Nick touched her back. “You okay?”

Her eyes watered. She nodded.

He handed her a water bottle. “This might help.”

She took a drink of water, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Thanks. Guess that completes this morning’s freak-out.”

He touched her arm, gently, as if she were something special, and a longing to be that to him sparked inside her. “You’re doing great. We can handle whatever they throw at us.”

She waited for him to remove his hand. He didn’t. Nor did she mind. Heat emanated from his fingertips against her skin. That felt different from his touches during the kissing, but nice, too. “I hope so.”

“We’ve got this.”

If only his confidence was contagious. Addie would have to see how they did the next time. But no matter what she might be feeling, however good or right or natural kissing and touching him might seem, none of this was real. Not their marriage. Not the honeymoon. Not any kisses.

She stared at his hand still touching her.

Addie couldn’t forget anything with Nick other than friendship was nothing more than a fantasy. One she didn’t dare to dream would come true.

“I
didn’t think anything could beat this morning in the cove, but this comes close.” Four hours later, Nick lay face down on a massage table, a white sheet covering him, fresh flowers strewn about and the smell of coconut oil in the air. Swaying palm fronds and crashing waves provided the background music. “I guess Brad’s not so bad.”

“Pina Coladas on the beach when we arrived back followed by a couple’s massage. Only fifteen minutes of filming. I’d say he’s a good guy.” Addie was on a table an arm’s reach away. “Aren’t you glad you didn’t punch him?”

“Yes.” Though Nick’s body felt as if he’d stepped out of a MMA ring without landing a hit. Kissing, talking about kissing, trying to pretend he wasn’t looking forward to any more fake kisses while sharing a romantic lobster lunch with butter dripping from the corner of her mouth had knotted him worse than a bag of unspooled paracord. No easy way to untangle his muscles. But thanks to the expert masseuse, each swirl of her hands evaporated some of the tension. “This could be his way of making sure I don’t hit him later.”

“Not that you would.”

“You said no violence. I’ll be good.” Oh, man. The masseuse performed some sort of percussion move on his back. “I’m feeling very good. Massages sure don’t suck.”

She laughed. “I see more of these in our future.”

“Now, you’re talking.”

Addie didn’t sound wigged out anymore. That made him happy. Though he couldn’t take credit. The champagne and cocktails were helping. The massage, too. Though a dip in the water and paddleboarding hadn’t hurt.

She lay on her stomach. The sheet pushed down to her waist, exposing her back. Her face was pressed through the cutout, her hair spread over the top part of the table. The masseuse ran her hands over Addie’s glistening back.

Sexy, but . . .

This wasn’t the time to be admiring her smooth skin or anything else. He looked through the hole in the table at the floor. They were friends. Friends who found themselves in an unusual circumstance. Friends who got caught up in kissing each other this morning. But still friends, platonic friends.

Staring at her, admiring her, being attracted to her, was not a smart move when he wanted to do was reach out and rub her back. He had to watch himself around her, especially during kisses.

Addie sighed. The pleasure-filled sound sent a burst of heat rushing through him. Or maybe that was due to whatever the masseuse was doing to his spine. Releasing toxins or chakras or whatever woo-woo term was in use these days.

Yeah, that had to be it. Not Addie, something else. “So when do you want to schedule our next massage?”

“Tomorrow.”

“There could be a waiting list.”

“I hope not.” She took a breath, then exhaled slowly. “Talk about magic fingers. This feels like we’ve won a prize in addition to the grand prize.”

“The cherry on top.”

“Don’t forget the whip cream.”

Oh, baby, the things they could do to each other with whipped cream . . .

If they were a real couple.

Which they weren’t.

Dammit.

He counted the lines in the bamboo floor hoping to bring his temperature back to room level and erasing the playful, sexy, and messy images in his mind. This vacation was going to test the limits of his self-control in more than one way.

Whether this would be good or not, he couldn’t tell. He wouldn’t know until he and Addie were back in San Diego where they only had to deal with a fake marriage, not the honeymoon and reality TV stuff.

Another sigh escaped from Addie. “I wish we could stay here forever.”

Yeah, Nick knew how she felt. But he couldn’t get lost in the tropical fantasy if he wanted to stay in control. “Paradise might lose its appeal.”

“Never.”

She sounded relaxed and sleepy. The way he felt. “Let’s see how you sound after a nap this afternoon.”

“I’m not changing my mind.” She yawned. “Though a nap sounds heavenly. If I can stay awake now.”

He looked over, reached across the space between their tables and touched her forearm. Her skin was soft and smooth beneath his calloused fingertips. “Close your eyes. If you fall asleep no one will care. You deserve this.”

Her gaze met his. Her eyes were slightly dilated, her lids heavy. Beautiful. “Only if you do the same. You deserve this, too.”

Nick closed his eyes. An image of Addie appeared, one with a satisfied smile and happy, twinkling eyes. She wore a white dress similar to the one she’d worn at their wedding, but this time had a veil on her head and bouquet of pink flowers in her hands.

A ball of warmth, comfortable and complete, settled around his heart. His eyes sprang open.

What the hell was going on? His daydreams—hell, his thoughts—ran more the line of a naked hot chick with huge breasts and a round, firm butt.

Brides were his worst nightmare since Carrie. Handing over his paychecks like a lovesick fool, making plans for spending his life with her, keeping a list of baby names for his son or daughter, only to return home to see her waiting for him with his engagement ring on her finger and a baby bump too small for the kid to be his. He closed his eyes, pushing away the bad memories. He’d gotten over the betrayal and hurt, but he was not going to be played again. He was never getting married. Not for real anyway. Imagining Addie as a bride should not be happening.

He must be more tired than he realized. Exhausted.

A nap would clear the insane image from his mind. Nick closed his eyes. At least he hoped so.

A
ddie stretched out on the patio’s daybed, rested, following a nap back at the
bure
. The massage had relieved her stress and loosened her muscles, making her think she could get through the other eight days. But after hearing from Emily, Addie wasn’t so sure. She adjusted the belt of the robe she wore over her blue bikini.

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