“Wouldn’t flipping houses be more lucrative than selling them?”
Rian lifts a shoulder. “If you can buy the right place at the right time for the right price, you’ll get the most return on investment, but you still need the capital to do that.”
“If you could have one house on this beach, which one would it be?” I ask.
“The Mission Mansion,” she replies without hesitation.
“Why the Mission Mansion?” It’s gorgeous and eclectic, one of the largest homes on the beach, but it’s in need of some serious renovations and repairs. From what I understand, the owners spend most of their summer in Europe, so it’s gone mostly unused and ignored for the better part of the last decade, which is sad.
She drags her fingers along the surface of the water, creating ripples. “Marley and I used to spend a lot of time there in the summers when we were teenagers.”
“Really? You knew the previous owners?”
She’s quiet for a few seconds before she replies, “My grandparents did.”
I’m only semi-surprised by this answer. There’s something refined about Rian that I can’t quite pin down. “It must’ve been amazing inside.”
“It is. Or at least it was.” Her smile is wistful, almost sad. “It holds a lot of special memories for me. I’d hate to see it get any more rundown than it already is.”
“Do you think it will ever go on the market?” From the little I know about the property, the last time it changed hands was about a decade ago, but I never paid particularly close attention to the place other than to admire it. It’s unfortunate that it sits vacant now.
“Maybe one day. It’s a pipe dream, anyway. I’ll never have the capital for that place.” For a moment she looks so forlorn, before she gives me one of her soft, questioning smiles. “What about you? What property are you most interested in?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t given it much thought. I think the more rundown the better, though. I like fixing broken things.”
She mutters something I don’t catch.
“What was that?”
“I’m turning into a prune.” She rises from the tub, water sluicing down her gorgeous, naked body. “And I’m still itchy.”
Fifteen minutes later Rian is facedown on my mattress. No, we’re not having sex. I’m atoning for my sins by rubbing Benadryl cream on her bug bites. The sheer number is insane. They cover her shoulders, her calves, and the back of her thighs. I keep running my palms up and down, and then higher, up the back of her legs. She moans when I knead her ass. There are bites there too, so it’s an area that needs attention.
“What’re you doing?” Her voice is raspy, groggy.
“Trying to keep you comfortable.”
“I think you’re trying to cop a feel.”
“I can do both, can’t I? I think they call it multitasking.”
She snorts a tired laugh.
My pillow is going to smell like her tomorrow. My whole bed is. And tonight I’m going to bask in the scent of Rian, because she’s going nowhere. She’s half asleep already, body languid, arms loose at her sides.
When I’m done taking care of the bites, she snuggles into me, tired and spent, I consider that this is moving way too fast. We’re like two trains on the same track, heading for each other. A collision is imminent. But I can’t find it in me to care.
CHAPTER 16
RELATIONSHIP GOALS
RIAN
I’m floating on a cloud. A warm cloud. A very cozy, warm cloud that smells deliciously of aftershave.
I open my eyes and remember that I’m not in my own bedroom. But then I realize I’m also not in the bedroom of the beach house rental either. It takes about three seconds for all the pieces to fit together. And then memories of last night slam into me; sex on the beach, the sand fleas, the bath, talking, his bed, a rubdown that did not include sex, and then sleep, blissful, blissful sleep.
I’m using Pierce’s arm as a pillow. Slowly I turn my head to the right. The sheets hang low on his hips, his hand is under the covers, possibly cradling his junk.
I can’t believe I stayed the night. I can’t believe he was actually serious about the post-sex cuddling. Or that it appears it lasted through the entire night.
I check the clock on the nightstand. It’s already eleven thirty. I haven’t slept this late since I was a teenager.
“Morning.” Pierce’s deep, raspy sleep voice draws my gaze back to him. His one visible eye is barely a slit.
“Hi.” My stomach twists a little, uncertain as to how this is going to go.
He smirks, tongue peeking out as he wets his lips. “I cuddled the fuck out of you all night.”
I laugh. “That you did.”
“You know what that means, don’t you?” He wraps his arm around me and pulls me closer. “It means we’re dating.”
I tip my chin up so I can see his face. His hair is a mess and he has pillow lines on his cheek. “How do you figure?”
“We had a sleepover and we spooned pretty much the entire night. Plus, we had a bath together, and I’ve taken care of you and all your bug bites, so that totally qualifies as dating behavior.”
I settle a palm on his chest and feel the steady thump of his heart. I’m surprisingly not freaked out by this thought. “I suppose that makes logical sense.”
His sleep-heavy eyes crinkle at the corners. “So you agree that we’re dating?”
“You didn’t really give me much of an opportunity to disagree, did you?”
“Since when does that stop you?” His lips meet my temple. “You know what we should do to celebrate this milestone in our relationship?”
“What’s that?” I throw my leg over his, fully expecting him to say morning sex.
“We should have Naked Sunday.”
“Naked Sunday?”
“Yeah. You know, where we spend the day hanging out naked.”
“Is this something you do often?” I imagine spending an entire twenty-four hours sans clothing with Pierce. I can’t imagine getting anything accomplished, apart from wearing out my vagina with whatever parts of his body he felt like sticking in there.
“No. I’ve never actually done it before, but I figured it could be our thing.”
“Our thing?”
“Yeah, you know, like the thing we do together, just us. On Sundays. We can make it a weekly standing date from here on.” He nods, maybe to himself, like this is the best idea he’s ever had.
He’s adorably persistent. “Except you don’t live alone and as much as I don’t mind looking at you naked, I’m not so sure I’m all that comfortable wandering around like this in front of your brother. Also, I have a lot of work to do today since my sister and I sold a house yesterday.”
“Hmm. You make a good point about my brother. We’ll postpone Naked Sunday, or we can pick an alternate day of the week. Why don’t I make you breakfast instead?”
“Oooh, I like breakfast.” My stomach growls.
“Awesome.” He pats my tummy. “It’s settled. I need coffee, how about you?”
“Um, sure?”
Pierce finds some of his sister’s clothes in the spare bedroom. Nothing says walk of shame like eating breakfast in last night’s dress.
I’m relieved that Lawson doesn’t appear to be awake yet. Or if he is, he’s not hanging around the kitchen to witness the morning after my beach romp with Pierce. I take a seat at the island, while Pierce makes coffee and then checks the contents of the fridge. “I can make pancakes, waffles, or French toast. Oh, wait. I have cinnamon rolls. I can make cinnamon roll French toast.”