Lunar Love

“And now you only see the incompatible traits in people,” he says, pausing a moment before adding, “Not everyone is him. Have you ever considered that maybe your ex wasn’t possessive because he’s a Snake but because he was just an asshole?”


A laugh sails out of me. “Probably. Definitely.” I think for a moment on this, soaking in the silence. “Losing my friend was worse than losing my ex,” I say. “After all of that happened, I actually took six months off from matchmaking. I questioned everything about myself, the Chinese zodiac, and the concept of relationships. I took some me-time, and when I came back to LA, my friend was gone. Nowhere to be found.”

“She left without saying anything?” he asks.

“Yeah. She never wanted to talk to me again.”

“Oh, so she told you that.”

“Well, no. But her actions told me everything I needed to know.”

“I see,” Bennett says, looking like he’s gathering his thoughts. “When my mother died, I thought my father hated her because he never wanted to talk about her.” He bends the silver tab back and forth on the can until it comes loose. “What I realized is that he never wanted to talk about her because he loved her so much it hurt to bring her up. Our actions don’t always reveal our true intentions.”

“You’re probably right.” I fiddle with the buckle on my life vest.

“You know it’s never too late,” he says kindly.

“We’ll see,” I say with a shrug.

He reaches for his bag and pulls out a plastic container of cut strawberries. “What brought you back to Lunar Love?” he asks, offering me the tub of fruit and a fork.

I pierce my fork into a sliced-up strawberry. “I missed it too much. The zodiac is in my veins. But I vowed to never let something like that happen again. For myself or my clients.” Even as I say the words, I feel my resolve slipping.

With his free hand, Bennett grabs mine and lets our intertwined fingers rest on his thigh. “You think you’ll know exactly how things will turn out because of people’s personalities?” he asks.

“No?” I answer in the form of a question. “But I try.”

“That sounds…exhausting,” he says.

My eyes widen at his bluntness. “I love what I do, but yes, it’s pretty damn exhausting,” I say before cracking up into laughter.

“Thank you for sharing all that with me,” he says. “I like knowing more about you.”

“Those are the only insights into my soul that you’re getting,” I inform him.

“I’ll take it,” Bennett says. There is a hint of a smile at the corners of his lips.

I run my thumb along the back of his hand. “Hey. My sister’s wedding is happening in a couple of days. Would you…do you…” I start. “Do you want to come with me?”

I didn’t intend to say it, but there it was. Out in the open sea. Maybe there really is something to the smell of saltwater, the sound of the waves splashing against the boat, and looking out into the endless distance.

Or maybe it’s because I’m out of my comfort zone that I suddenly feel a sense of calm. But I’ve been out of my comfort zone for weeks now. Because of this man in front of me.

Bennett squeezes my hand as he gives thought to my question. I lose my train of thought, hyperaware of our skin-on-skin contact. “As your plus one?” he asks.

“You could also come as my bodyguard. It’ll make me look important.”

“Bodyguard it is,” Bennett says with a laugh. “I would love to. Thank you.” He removes his sunglasses and looks out over his shoulder at the ocean. With the glittering blue water reflecting in his eyes, the hazel looks jade green. He looks at my face with his mossy eyes, my skin burning beneath the life vest.

No more words come. Instead we just smile at each other and continue to hold hands, our knees gently knocking back and forth with the rhythm of the waves. His gaze sends shivers down my spine, and I forget that we’re miles from shore, miles from where I ever thought we would be.

Admittedly, being on this boat with this man who’s still largely unknown to me also feels oddly exhilarating. For a second, I think I might actually be enjoying myself. Maybe this whole water thing isn’t so bad.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a speedboat roars by, breaking our gaze and sending a series of huge rolling waves in our direction. The way the boat rocks feels like riding a roller coaster, and all the cozy feelings I had about the water evaporate.

I grab the nearest solid thing next to me for stability, which happens to be Bennett. I loop my arms around his neck while Bennett wraps his arms around my waist to help steady me. In a matter of seconds, the distance between us has vanished. My stomach does a flip, but I don’t think it’s because of the rocking. I send down thanks to Poseidon for helping us close the distance.

The boat steadies, but we stay where we are. I run my hand along the back of Bennett’s neck, gripping it tighter. He pulls me closer by the straps of my life vest.

“About that bet…” Bennett whispers.

“Should we just…” I whisper back.

“Call it off?” he asks with pleading eyes.

I thought I could tread water and stay afloat, but it turns out I’m not such a strong swimmer after all. I’m swept up, swept away. Too far gone.

“Deal,” I say.

We linger for just a moment, our faces inches apart. Then, like the water crashing on rocks, an explosion of tension is released as we bring our lips together. I gently bite his bottom lip, craving his taste again.

He reaches under my life vest and runs his hand along my lower back. I hang onto his biceps, a wave of want washing over me. Bennett’s breath on my neck creates a cooling sensation, the condensation evaporating as quickly as it was formed. I run my fingers along the spots where his dimples indent and brush my thumb along his lips.

“Just tell me if it’s enough,” he breathes, cupping his hand under my chin, “or not enough.”

At that, he kisses me deeply, tenderly. A tide of emotion rises in me. In the pressure of his mouth, I feel his want, too.

I push him back against the salt-sprayed vinyl seats, leaning down onto him. We angle our heads to find a way to reach each other under the rim of the baseball hat until he finally lifts it off my head and throws it onto a nearby seat. He softly pushes my dark brown hair behind my shoulders, letting his fingers drag down through the loose strands. We press our foreheads together, the tips of our noses touching. Electricity crackles through me like a bolt of lightning.

His fingers wrap around my thighs, silencing any thoughts of I can see it now. The glimmer in his eyes makes me forget everything I know about incompatibility.

He pulls back to look at me, his eyes a shade darker. I memorize the lines and curves of his face. If Bennett’s the ocean, I’m already in too deep. No life raft can save me now. This riptide pulls me farther and farther out to sea until I can hardly see the shore.





Chapter 17



Lauren Kung Jessen's books