“We have another ride.”
“What other ride? No, never mind. I don’t want to know the answer just yet. I have a feeling I’m not going to like it. I—oh.” She stopped short and stared at the beach, as white as freshly fallen snow. Someone had laid out a green blanket underneath an umbrella the same shade of tropical blue as the sky. On the blanket sat a picnic basket and a metal ice bucket sweating in the heat.
Jude’s smile was 100 percent smug male. “Hungry?”
“You set this all up for me?”
“Who else?”
She should smack him for that, should feel outraged that he’d staged this whole cheesy seduction when he knew good and well all he had to do was ask and she’d go to bed with him. But she couldn’t find the outrage. She dug deep within herself, and all she came up with was humbled wonder, especially when his smile started to slip and worry furrowed his brow.
“You don’t like it.”
“No. I mean, yes. Of course I do. It’s…it’s lovely. And…sweet. So very sweet.”
His smile returned, all dazzle and boyish excitement. He entwined his fingers through hers and pulled her toward the picnic. He sat her down on the blanket, dropped his pack on a jutting rock a few feet away, and joined her under the umbrella.
“What would you like?” he asked as he opened the cooler. “I know you hate tomatoes, so I avoided ordering anything with them, but other than that, I was guessing. We have some melon pieces, trail mix, a couple different kinds of sandwiches, some pasta salad—oh, that looks good.” He picked up the plastic container and shook it. “I’ll have some of this. We also have wine. White. Sorry, not your favorite but it’s easier to keep wine chilled out here than at room temperature so I—”
Libby reached across all of the containers and plastic-wrapped packages of food, placed her hand over his, and gave his fingers a light squeeze. “Thank you.”
Such insufficient words for the overwhelming affection she suddenly felt toward him, but they would have to do because she couldn’t think of any others. Or at least none that wouldn’t ruin the moment.
She had to be careful. Affection was a slippery slope. One wrong step and she’d fall headlong into love with this man again, and she refused to take that risk a second time. Even though, in moments like this, it seemed like a perfect idea, a real-life happily ever after…
She twisted her cover identity’s simple wedding band around on her finger. It wasn’t real. None of this was. She just had to keep reminding herself—
“Fuck!”
Libby jumped and stared in wide-eyed shock as Jude scrambled backward, his hand flailing around behind him for something to grab. Fearing the worst, she searched for the cause of his outburst and found it in the form of a little long-legged spider crawling across the blanket. She looked at him. Then at the spider. Then at him again. And she burst out laughing.
“Seriously?” She cupped her hands around the little thing before he could crush it like he so obviously wanted to. “You’ll pick up a giant lizard without a second’s thought, but you’re afraid of the itsy bitsy spider?”
“You’re afraid of a gentle lizard,” he shot back, “but you’ll pick up a killer spider?”
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous. Killer spider,” she scoffed. “It’s harmless!”
“Yeah, right. Tell that to me when it bites you, and I have to swim your dying ass to the nearest hospital.”
Shaking her head, she stood with the spider still clasped in her palms. “I’ll let it go.”
“Way down the beach.” He pointed. “I mean waaaay down.”
“Wuss.”
“Hey, did I cast stones when I had to save you from the iguana?”
“No, but that doesn’t make you any less of a wuss.” She left him and let the spider go on a tree branch fifty yards away. When she got back, Jude handed her a glass of wine and wouldn’t meet her eyes.
“All right, Mr. Nature Lover,” she said after a moment of awkward silence. “Want to tell me what that was about?”
He took great care in pouring his own glass, but still wouldn’t meet her gaze.
“Well?” she prompted.
“I feel ridiculous.”
“You should.” And she probably shouldn’t take so much delight in the fact that his ears had turned bright red, but…honestly, it was adorable. She would have dialed down her teasing if he wasn’t laughing at himself right along with her. “You screamed like a little girl.”
“Bullshit.” He finally looked up with an expression of mock horror. “It was a manly scream.”
“Very manly,” she said and patted his hand.
“All right, you got me. I have a small phobia when it comes to spiders.” He removed her hand from his and pointed to an oblong scar on the back of his right hand between his thumb and forefinger. Indented like a shallow crater and puckered around the edges, she remembered she used to rub her thumb over that scar whenever they held hands.