Gaige

We got lucky the next day, and Arabella’s taping wrapped up in the early afternoon even though she expected it to take another day. Considering how little sleep Arabella had gotten the night before, it was a good thing. The loss of a contestant who’d been kicked off the show for sleeping with the original producer had speeded up the process of picking a winner. Her responsibilities were fulfilled, which meant I could get her out of town and to a safer place.

“If I’d known there was a chance you’d be done today, I might have just switched rooms instead of checking into a new hotel last night,” I grumbled as I loaded her suitcases into my rental car for the second time in as many days.

“We could just stay here another night,” she suggested.

“It’s too late for that,” I chuckled. “Your bags are already in the car, and I’ve made reservations for the ferry and rented us a cottage.”

“A ferry and a cottage?” she echoed. “Where are we going?”

I helped her into the car as I answered, “Santa Catalina Island.”

“Really?” She looked at me hopefully, clapping her hands together as I slid into the driver’s seat. “I’ve never been there before.”

“Yes, really.” I flashed her a smile. “It’s close enough to LA that I can easily come back if I get a solid lead and need to interview someone in person.”

“Wouldn’t it be hard for us to escape an island if we needed to get out of there quickly? I thought the ferry across takes like an hour.”

Her voice trembled, and knowing that someone out there had scared her so much that she didn’t feel safe pissed me the fuck off. When I found them, they were going to pay—and depending on what they had in mind for Arabella, the way they did so might be permanent. I’d killed before for my country; I had no doubt that I’d be able to do so for my woman if it came down to it. I didn’t want to do anything to change the way Arabella looked at me, but her safety would come first for me. Always.

“I’m good at what I do, sweetheart. Even if you weren’t mine, I wouldn’t take any unnecessary risks,” I reassured her, reaching for her hand and squeezing it. If it had been anyone but her, I never would have thought about going to the island. Holing up in any old place would have been fine. But I wanted to do better—be better—for her. “I figured since you had a month off, you could look at this as a vacation instead of just hiding out. I was able to snag us an ocean-view cottage, so we’ll have some privacy. And if the need to leave quickly arises, we’ll go by helicopter instead of the ferry.”

“Thank you for that.” Her green eyes were damp as she looked at me like I’d hung the moon. “Yes, please, take me to Santa Catalina Island.”

I softened my voice because I didn’t want to ruin the moment, but it needed to be said. “Just so long as you understand that I wasn’t asking for your permission. When it comes to your safety, the decisions are mine to make.”

“Considering the situation, I can live with that.”

“It’ll be the same after this is over. That part of me isn’t going to change.”

She flipped her hand over and twined her fingers with mine. “I already told you that I could handle your bossy as long as you can deal with my girly girl stuff.”

I heaved out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “You know I was just giving you hell when I complained about the suitcases, right? Because I’ll gladly take all your girly shit since you come with it.”

“Are you sure about that?”

She had a mischievous gleam in her eyes, and it made me smile. I liked this playful side of hers. “Bring it on, sweetheart.”

“Oh, yes. This is going to be good,” she laughed, rubbing her hands together in excitement. “Do we have enough time to stop for lunch?”

I was hungry, so it sounded like a good idea to me. “Yeah.”

“Perfect! I want to pick where we go.”

“As long as it isn’t somewhere you’ve been before, that’s fine by me,” I agreed.

“It’s a newer place that I was hoping to be able to visit before I left LA, but I haven’t made it there yet.”

She gave me the address, without mentioning the name of the restaurant. When I pulled up in front, I realized that I should have asked more questions. “A tea shop? Remind me to check to see where the closest In-N-Out Burger is so we can hit the drive-through on our way to the ferry.”

“You did say you could handle my girliness,” she reminded me. “And there’s nothing more girly than high tea at a shop that looks like you’ve stepped into a fancy set for Alice in Wonderland.”

“I probably shouldn’t have made it so obvious this early in our relationship that I’d do just about anything to make you happy,” I grumbled after I found a parking spot and helped her out of the car.

She reached up and kissed me on the cheek, whispering in my ear, “Except it means the world to me that you did.”

Fuck if that didn’t make it all worthwhile. Arabella was a reward worth any sacrifice.

“I might have to turn in my man card after this,” I sighed as we walked into the shop. I pulled her chair out for her and cringed when I sat in mine, waiting for it to break under my weight. It held, and I was pleasantly surprised when the waitress brought the teas we ordered. My woman had just as much of a sweet tooth as I did, which wasn’t much of a surprise considering she was a pastry chef. She got the whoopee pie tie, and I picked the kettle corn. We’d asked for two of their tea for two specials since Arabella wanted to try everything and I was starving.

It didn’t take long before the waitress dropped off two towers, each with sandwiches on the bottom and sweets on the top. I was surprised to discover how much I enjoyed the food, devouring deviled egg salad, avocado, prosciutto, caramelized onion and mushroom, and smoked salmon sandwiches. And the sweets...the only time I’d tasted better was the cake Arabella had made for Vaughn and Carissa’s wedding. There was a great selection on both of the trays—macaroons, fruit tarts, brownie bites, mini berry cheesecakes, scones with clotted cream, lemon curd, and homemade jam.

“I’ll take some of those brownies to go with it,” I told our waitress when she cleared the table and asked if we each wanted an iced tea to take with us since we’d ordered two of the specials.

“What happened to the In-N-Out plan?” Arabella teased me as we walked out.

“I don’t think I could choke down a burger after everything we ate at the tea shop,” I admitted wryly.

“See!” she cried. “You liked it more than you thought you would.”

“No, I just flat-out liked it.” I earned myself another one of her glowing smiles with that.

“I knew you would,” she gloated. “How about you leave most of the food decisions to me since I’m the expert?”

“Sounds like a plan to me.” I handed her the paper bag with the extra brownies after she slid into the passenger seat of the rental. Then I patted my stomach in satisfaction as I walked around the car and climbed inside. “I guess now’s as good time as any to tell you that I had the kitchen at the cottage stocked by the local grocery store.”

“Is that your way of asking if I’ll cook for us while we’re there?”

“I’m not going to say no if you’re offering, that’s for sure.” She laughed lightly and shifted in her seat to face me. “But I also got some stuff to throw on the grill, so you won’t have to do all our meals.”

“That was thoughtful of you, but I’m more than happy to take charge of our meals. It’s been awhile since I’ve cooked for someone other than myself, except for in a professional capacity. The kitchen’s my domain, and I’m looking forward to showing off for you. I have a feeling it’s going to be very satisfying to cook for my man.”

It felt fucking great to have her call me that and see how excited she was. It was also easy to picture her in a different kitchen—the one in my home in Atlanta...barefoot and pregnant.