What I Need

Page 8

“Well, we are surrounded by them.” I gesture at the tropical enclosure around the bar. “I honestly don’t think they all have coconuts. Just the island ones, like where Tom Hanks got stranded. But I don’t know for sure and thought maybe you knew the answer. I’m a naturally curious person.”

CJ stares at me, then smiles through a shake of his head. “You're a naturally curious person,” he repeats.

I nod, replying, “Yep.”

“And you’re curious about palm trees.”

I feel my lips curve up. “Yep.”

He steps back and looks around the bar while gripping the back of his neck. I watch his white tee ride up a little, exposing a hard, tanned stomach.

Would it be weird if I reached out and touched it?

Good Lord, what is wrong with me? Yes! Of course it would be weird. What am I thinking?

Rule number two when in the presence of CJ Tully: Do not touch anything. Don’t even think about touching anything. And don’t imagine he wants you to touch, because he doesn’t.

After surveying our surroundings, he drops his arm and extends his hand to me.

“What?” I ask, looking between his hand and his face.

“You wanna know so bad, let’s go find out.”

I blink at him. “Really? You . . . you want me to go somewhere with you?”

I do a quick glance around the bar. Did anyone else hear that? I’m not imagining full conversations now, am I?

CJ laughs, drawing my head back around. “Absofuckinlutely,” he says, wearing a smile full of mischief. “Come on, darlin’. Go somewhere with me.”

I debate for a solid second about leaving the bar with CJ, and it might’ve been a longer debate if he wasn’t smiling like he has some big secret he wants to share with me and dropping darlin’s while offering his hand like a gentleman, but he is. I’m not dreaming this. I’m not crazy. And as much as I want to think maybe I shouldn’t like the idea of holding this particular hand so much, I can’t. I like CJ. And I want to know what this feels like.

Even if he only holds my hand for a second.

“The shots were on the Tennyson tab,” I inform the bartender before taking the hand being held out for me and getting to my feet.

CJ moves us through the crowd, and he does this while keeping hold of me.

I can’t stop smiling.

And that only quickens my steps and makes this decision that much easier.

CJ doesn’t let go of my hand until we get to the other side of the resort and make it to a large grouping of palm trees separating the villas from the beach.

“I don’t see any coconuts,” he says, standing directly underneath one with his head tilted way back and his hands on his hips. “But I can’t really see shit from down here. Hold up.”

My eyes widen.

“Oh, my God,” I giggle, slapping a hand over my mouth as CJ grabs one of the low hanging branches and uses it to hoist himself up the tree. I move closer and watch him climb up. “You’re crazy! I don’t think you’re allowed to do that.”

“What are they going to do? Call the cops? I am the motherfuckin’ police.”

My smile grows bigger. “And it would be a crime if we didn’t crack this case, right?”

“Fucking A, babe,” he calls out.

I press my hands to my cheeks as my heart races with excitement. The risk of getting caught quickens my breath.

When was the last time I had this much fun?

“Anything yet?” I ask after a couple of minutes pass.

CJ mumbles something I can’t make out, then after a quick maneuver between branches he drops down, brushes his hands off on his shorts and moves to stand in front of me.

“They do not all have coconuts,” he shares. “I think this is a date tree.”

My mouth stretches into a grin. I tilt my head up and announce, “Then I guess I should’ve climbed it since I don’t have a date.”

His brows lift and his eyes brighten. “Wow,” he laughs, looking down at me. “That was terrible.”

“No. It was funny,” I argue, knocking my fist against his chest. “Besides making me pretty, tequila also makes me a comedic genius. Admit it. You’re finding me irresistible right now.”

I move to lower my arm and step back, but CJ wraps his hand around my wrist, keeping me there.

“That’s got nothing to do with the tequila, babe,” he shares.

I lick my lips. Breath moves slower in and out of my lungs. “Did you follow me to the bar?” I ask, growing bolder now.

CJ slides his free hand around my hip. “Yeah.”

“And have you been looking at me like this, this whole time?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m not imagining it?”

“No.”

“Okay.” I breathe a sigh of relief. “That’s good to know.”

CJ stares down at me, lips parted and eyes scorching hot.

I stare up at him.

“Tell me a secret,” I request, thinking back to that look in his eyes before we left the bar.

He presses closer, lowering his gaze to my mouth. “I’m having a real hard time not kissing you right now,” he reveals.

Thank. God.

A burst of air leaves me as my skin warms and tingles all over.

“You?” he asks, lifting his eyes to meet mine.

I swallow thickly.

Right. My turn. I can do this.

Feeling my heart rattling inside my ribcage, I fist the material of his shirt and step closer, pushing up against him. “I really want you to kiss me right now.”

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