One Bossy Date: Chapter 3

I’m not sure what time it is in Seattle, but as soon as I’m back in my room, I call Jenn.

I need some moral support ASAP.

It rings a few times. I’m afraid she’s asleep or at work or whatever it is people in Seattle are doing on a normal evening.

“Hey, Sunshine. How’s Hawaii?” she finally answers.

“O-M-G. Are you free for story time? Because you will not believe this.”

“Holy crap! You met a hot surfer dude and you’re getting married on the beach? Pippa Renee, when’s the wedding?”

I burst out laughing at her dumb joke. “…I mean, that isn’t much more absurd than the truth.”

“Lay it on me,” she says eagerly.

“I did meet a hot guy. Found him naked as the day he was born in my hotel room.”

“Day-um. What? Is it something in the air? I didn’t know I was sending you to Hawaii to score a hookup like that so easy. And you never hook up. Did you order the dude on-demand? Is there an insta-stud app I don’t know about? Is he an ornithologist?”

I roll my eyes.

Everybody knows I’m a bird geek and they still rub it in.

“That would’ve been more fun than stumbling on Captain Grumpmuffin. Or how he stumbled on me, I guess.”

Jenn goes silent.

“I don’t follow. You mean you never met him before he wound up in your room in the buff? How?”

“I woke up from a nightmare. I thought I was dreaming at first, but actually that noise was—”

“Get. Out!” she belts out. “The hot guy broke into your room? Naked? I would have screamed.”

“Oh, I did. But it gets better because he wasn’t just some random creeper.” I pause for effect, waiting until she draws in a breath. “He’s the freaking manager here. Apparently, they let him use this room whenever it’s free. Someone made a massive boo-boo and let him book this room in the system, even though I was already staying.”

“Holy—um, don’t tell me you’re suing Winthrope? That could get awkward when I’m the one who hooked you up with Lanai.”

“Nah, can’t stand lawyers. This guy talked me down when I stopped freaking out and showed me his keycard. He had his own room downgraded. But he was showering in my suite at two thirty in the morning.”

“God. That’s bonkers!” she throws back.

“Yeah, and now he’s worried about what I’ll say in the review. So he keeps groveling, following me around like a lost puppy and asking how he can make it up to me. So annoying. I’d rather go skinny-dipping in a swarm of bees.”

Jenn laughs loudly in my ear and doesn’t stop until she snorts, gasping for air.

“Hang on, are you crazy? You didn’t fall or anything when he scared you, right?”

“Nope.” I tap the side of my head gently. “Still all there.”

“Lady, you’re at a top Hawaiian resort and they’re at your beck and call. Why don’t you see how far they’re willing to go to make it up to you?”

“Really?” My brows go up. “Isn’t that like a conflict of interest coming from you?”

“You never heard it from me and I’m off the clock.” She laughs. “So, yeah. They’ll either give you everything you want or tell you to buzz off. What have you got to lose? You’re flying back home in like three days, right?”

“Yeah. I don’t know. I don’t really want to give Moody McGrumpface another reason to talk to me. It was awkward enough when he ambushed me at breakfast and tried to practically hand-feed me a free lobster omelet. Jackass.”

No need to tell her he’d shame a Michelangelo sculpture—especially below the beltline.

“Awww, why jackass? It’s not his fault they messed up the reservations.”

“I don’t know. You’re right. It’s just hella awkward. And I don’t think he’d be trying to make it up to me so hard if I wasn’t a reviewer.”

“Maybe not, but…does it matter?” she asks. “You are a reviewer, Pippa, and a damned good one. Naked In Hawaii needs your review. So milk it.”

I’m quiet for a second, turning over her advice.

“Reviews should be honest to matter. I can’t fathom how I could ever be objective about this place, considering the crazy that went down.”

“True. But you’re just giving him a chance to show their customer service skills and earn a good review. Plus, you should come out of it with something to show for the near-heart attack.”

I never thought about it like that.

“Why do you make so much sense?” I wonder out loud.

But before we can talk it out more, my phone pings. I look at the screen and see an incoming text.

“Hold that thought,” I say. “New message, I need to make sure it’s not about my dad.”

“How’s he doing?” Her tone sobers.

“He was fine when I left.” But that could always change. I tap my phone and scan the message from Winthrope concierge. “Hmm. You may be right.”

“I’m always right, but about what?” Jenn asks.

“They just gave me a huge spa credit. So, yeah, maybe you’re onto something and I should just see how far they’ll take it. Maybe they’ll help pay for my next vacation?”

She giggles. “Do it, girl boss. You also need to tell me why you’re going out of your way to avoid NIH now that he’s fully dressed and chasing after you.”

“NIH?”

“Naked In Hawaii! Duh.”

I bite my lip.

“Oh. Well. I may have forgotten to mention that I was wearing a t-shirt and panties at the time.” I wince when Jenn gasps. “Seriously, though, it wasn’t hot. I thought he was a serial killer. So I armed myself with a lamp which I deftly dropped in the commotion. I even cut my foot on a crystal shard.”

“Ouch!”

“Nothing too nasty, thankfully. When he called to downgrade his room, he also sent up a first aid kit.”

Jenn laughs so hard she snort-coughs. “Are you serious? Pippa, it’s like you lived every bad rom-com meet-cute. You’re going to marry this guy.”

“And I’m going to wring your neck,” I whisper.

“So, when you say it’s awkward, it’s not because you smacked into a nude model in your bathroom—”

“That too.”

“But it’s mostly that you’re mortified. You don’t want to admit he made you all tingly.”

I don’t answer.

I hate how well she knows me sometimes.

“Ha, see? That’s it!” I imagine her smiling warmly. “I vote for you to go kick back and have some fun. Who knows when you’ll be back to Lanai. It could be worse, you know?”

“Worse how?”

“Imagine if all that happened on video.”

“Ugh.” I press a palm over my face.

I guess that’s the one upside of this mess.

Virtually no one knows about it except for me and the butt-kisser.

And Jenn has a knack for being right.

I’ll leave this fairy-tale place soon enough, and then I’ll never run into anyone who knows about my misadventures with the naked man.

“Fine, you win. I’m milking it.”

“Umm—you might want to reconnect with the hot manager first so he can hook you up.”

“We’ll see. First, I’m going to use up the spa credits in peace since I should let my foot heal for a day,” I say.

“Now you’re thinking. Glad I could help,” she says brightly.

“I should go.”

“Hell yes, you should. You’re losing precious Hawaii time. Go get your muscles worked into jelly and enjoy the beach. I’d better not hear from you again unless your hair is on fire.”

I hang up laughing and check the time.

Okay, let’s do this.

I call down to the spa and find out they’re wide open right now.

So I head downstairs and indulge in what they call the heavenly trio—a full facial, a relaxation massage complete with hot stones, and a pedicure that makes me feel like I’m sixteen again.

With the mellow music, floral scents, and heaven right outside with the ocean view, I feel my luck turning around.

It’s the most relaxing experience of my life. Definitely the recharge I was looking for.

With a freshly peeled face and tiny palm trees on my toes, I walk back to the hotel and stop by the front desk in the lobby.

“Can I speak with the resort manager, please?”

“I’m the resort manager,” a Hawaiian woman says pleasantly.

“Oh, um—the other manager? The tall guy?” I pinch my lips shut, realizing my mistake. I should just get what I want from her and avoid any awkward turtle moments.

But what would be the fun in that? a voice in the back of my head asks.

“Other manager?” Her face scrunches up.

“Umm—Brock, right? I think that’s his name,” I say.

“Oh!” Her eyebrows stab up. “Oh, of course, yes, I’ll call Mr….Brock right away.”

I shrug. “That’s not necessary. No need to drag him away from anything important.”

“My schedule is clear.” His smooth baritone voice makes me jump when I hear it behind me. I whip around. “Miss Renee, has your stay improved since morning?”

“It’s about to,” I say flatly.

He nods slowly. “Let’s have it then. What’s on your agenda?”

The manager lady watches us intently, looking weirdly amused.

I don’t get why.

Part of me wants to fling more crap at his smug, annoyingly square and sculpted face, but there are too many people milling around to lay down the law.

I hate that his good looks make him a natural charmer, even when he’s offering the clumsiest bribes.

Stay strong.

Influencers who fall to flattery and comps lose their audience’s trust.

But like Jenn said, I’m just giving him a chance to earn his review, right?

Still, I’d rather have the whole world not listening in.

“Let’s talk in private. You can buy me a drink in the bar,” I offer.

He snorts loudly. “I feel so privileged.”

“You should.” I lean over and whisper so only he can hear. “Crazy naked guys usually have to buy the drinks up front, y’know.”

He stumbles back a step, coughing into his hand, and I laugh.

“I’ll do you one better, Miss Renee. I have a private office. We can order drinks there.” He leads me to an office behind the reception area without another word.

God, he’s a walking cologne ad, and I hate it.

Every breath in his personal space bombards my senses with that heavy, masculine halo of Brock.

I’m already regretting this.

Especially when I feel his eyes all over me, roaming wild, quietly drinking me up until I’m fanning myself.

“Still adjusting to Lanai temperatures, I see.”

Oh, God.

That smirk on his lips says he knows it’s not just the hint of humidity in the air that’s turning me into a hot mess.

I drag myself into his office behind him, though.

Very posh with its wooden walls and huge glass frames overlooking the waves.

No surprise.

He sits down in a leather power chair and motions to the seat across from him, where I drop down.

“What are we drinking today?” he asks.

“Surprise me. Whatever tastes like a smoothie, but still has a good kick.”

He picks up his office phone and hits a button. “Bring me a frozen sunrise and a finger of brandy. I’m in my office.”

“Wow. I should be a resort manager,” I say. “You’ve got a lot of perks.”

His eyes rake over me, clearly assessing what I’m up to.

“It beats shoveling horse manure. Now, what can I do for you? You never did answer me over breakfast about your foot.”

“It’ll heal. But you want a glowing review, right?” I steeple my fingers together, watching how his eyes catch the light and glow like the Hawaiian sky.

“Sweetheart, every manager ever born wants that.”

I nod. “If I’m helping you, you’re helping me.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“I’m not paying for any of my food or drinks until I leave, for one—”

“Done,” he snaps, surprisingly fast. “You already know I don’t have a problem with comps. I gave you a free breakfast and then ate your lobster eggs because I turned your stomach.”

Fighting down a smile, I hold up a finger. “Hold on. I wasn’t done yet.”

That shine in his eyes kills me.

“There’s more?”

I suppress a devilish grin.

“Yep. So, my videos get more reach and better engagement when I’m able to show off secret places. You know, the cool, exclusive stuff off the beaten path that only the most well-connected people ever get access to.”

He stares at me, this bear of a man stuffed into a suit. It’s hard not to feel slightly intimidated.

“And you need me to find some special places to wow your people?” His gaze deepens with an intensity that cuts right through me.

Heat thrums through my veins.

Every second my eyes are fixed to his throat, his mouth, strong muscles working and lips that might steal some lucky woman’s soul.

But I find my words. “Close. I’d actually like you to hire a local tour guide to take me around the island. Show me Lanai at its dreamiest.”

His weight shifts as he leans in his chair. He strokes the shadow of dark scruff around his chin, thinking deeply for a moment before his eyes snap back to mine.

“On one condition, Miss Renee. If I agree to this demand, I’ll be your tour guide.”

“You? No way!” I clap a hand over my mouth the second it’s out.

The reaction is visceral. Explosive.

I don’t mean to be rude, but holy hell. I was not expecting that—or the smug amusement on his face as he rakes his eyes over me again.

“Is the idea so appalling? You wound me.” He thumps his chest dramatically and mimes like he’s extracting a knife.

Elephant dick.

“Dude. You hate my guts. You’re only working overtime to make my time here awesome because you’re scared of what I’ll say. How would either of us have a fun day together?” I cough once for emphasis.

I think I’d rather have Lucifer himself show me the island.

He stares at me too intensely.

“We’ve been through this. I fessed up to buttering you up like a good boy, didn’t I?” He waits for me to nod. “I’m simply doing my job. Personal feelings hardly matter. And for the record, I hate everything that complicates my life—including you. That doesn’t mean I won’t curl your toes with sights you couldn’t conjure up in your wettest dreams.”

I’m dead.

The way he casually sexualizes this whole situation—and me—leaves my jaw hanging.

I think about his response for a solid minute, twirling a strand of hair in my fingers idly.

“You should choose another habit,” he says, interrupting my thoughts. “You’re about to pull your hair out. It’d be a shame if you put a bald spot on that pretty little head.”

He didn’t.

Oh, but he did.

I glare back, resisting the urge to give him a freaking bald spot.

“You know what? You really are brutally honest when you’re not sucking up. That’s rare,” I say neutrally. “Travel is all about stepping outside your comfort zone. And frankly, I can’t imagine anything more uncomfortable than spending an entire day in paradise with you. So, yeah, let’s do it.”

He snorts, scratching the side of his face to hide what I suspect might be a smile.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Miss Renee.”

He extends his hand for me to shake.

I hesitate before I take it, but when I do—my hand rips back.

There’s a flash of blue light in the room, I swear.

Jesus.

“Damn static. It’s the humidity control. I’ll have to get that adjusted,” he grumbles.

Um, right.

“Whatever. You’d better curl my pigs like you promised or there’ll be hell to pay for years on TikTok.”

“Pigs?” he repeats.

Smiling, I lift my sandled foot to the edge of his desk and wiggle my toes.

“Really.” He lets out an exaggerated sigh and slouches in his chair. “Who the fuck did I piss off to be at the mercy of a woman who names body parts after farm animals?”

I swallow a snicker.

“I only have like a few days left to soak up Lanai. So kindly shut it and make it incredible, and I won’t even tell anyone I got cut on your property.”

I think his hellish blue eyes could light me on fire.

“You’re sure it’ll be well enough to walk around tomorrow? I wouldn’t dare risk hurting your pigs.”

I nod, looking around his office so I don’t lock eyes with him again. Why is it getting harder every time to look away?

“See how easy that was? I offered to do all of this for you last night,” he says.

I hate that he’s right. I don’t need a reminder.

“Don’t blow this by calling me stubborn,” I warn, shaking a finger.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Miss Sunshine. You’re headstrong—not unreasonably so—and I’m sure that extends to your ten little pigs, too.”

Too ridiculous.

I’m about to laugh in his face when an attendant knocks at the door with our drinks.

I pick mine up as soon as the girl leaves and take a gulp.

Oh, hello.

It’s my tongue that’s curling right now as sugary bliss wrapped in citrusy tang rattles my senses.

“Dang. It’s like liquid sherbet.” I stir it around with the straw and glance up at him. “You’re sure there’s alcohol in this?”

“Yes. I hired the lead bartender myself. He had the job the instant he promised me dangerous drinks. Precisely why I take my poison straight without hiding it in a glass of fruit, but our guests do love their sugar bowl ways of getting intoxicated.” He downs his brandy, his throat muscles working obscenely. “When would you like our Hawaiian honeymoon to begin?”

Oh, no, no, no.

I choke on my next sip of sunrise and turn away, sputtering against my hand.

“As soon as you stop doing that. And after our drinks are gone.” I hope the dirty look I’m wearing tells him how serious I am. Enough of this crap.

“Did you enjoy the spa, at least?” he asks.

I smile. “Yeah. I actually got a hot stone massage. I’ve always wanted one of those.”

“Always fortifying. I enjoy them a few times a year.”

“You use the spa?” I clutch my glass closer, surprised.

“Occasionally.”

God. There’s an image I don’t need—this tightwad wall of hard muscle sprawled out on the table, wearing nothing but a towel, hot stones dancing down corded muscle.

“I need to be a resort manager when I grow up,” I say absently.

He cocks his head.

“Sure. It’s all fun and games until you shower in someone else’s room.” He taps his long, thick fingers on the desk again. Weirdly, they’re more like workman’s hands—thick and weathered—definitely not the kind you’d expect from a guy who takes spa days. “What do you like to do, Miss Renee? So I know where to take you.”

“Oh. Well, I don’t have to like it, necessarily. I just need to see the places there aren’t already two thousand videos about. Go for uniqueness. I told you, traveling is about getting outside of your comfort zone. And if you don’t try new things, how can you know what you like?”

His piercing blue eyes connect with mine, stealing my attention.

He’s very good at that.

He’s also talented at making me feel like an unwanted piece of modern art he can’t quite decipher.

Something about the way our gazes fuse feels too close. Too intimate.

Everyone who praises an overactive imagination doesn’t know it’s a curse.

“There’s some truth to that,” he admits. “Still, if the point is salvaging your trip, having some idea what you enjoy would help immensely.”

I shrug, drawing a slow breath.

“I like sharing the world, honestly. More views, more messages, more subscribers. Just get me anywhere with good scenery and some sun. Oh, and birds.”

For the briefest second, he smiles.

I’m so taken aback I tilt my head.

“Birds, huh? I appreciate that you’re all business. I didn’t know we spoke the same language. I should be a social media influencer,” he growls.

I start laughing because I can’t even imagine it. He’d have to grow a real personality first.

His phone buzzes and he plucks it from his pocket. He stares at it for a moment before he pounds out a message with both hands.

“Something wrong?” I venture, taking another drink of my adult smoothie.

“The joys of management,” he says, never looking up at me. “If you’re feeling up to it today, we can start our tour this afternoon.”

“If it’s not a lot of hiking, sure. Let’s get this over with.”

The angry look he throws back should make me smile, but I wonder why a twisted part of me is actually looking forward to this.

“Finish your drink and we’ll hit the beach. Or pack it up and take it with, I don’t care,” he snaps.

“Management must be brutal if you can flop down on Lanai beaches in the middle of the day,” I say sarcastically.

“I don’t have a choice. Some smart-ass influencer stole my room, blamed me for a murder plot, and then threatened to torch my livelihood if I didn’t fall down and worship her.”

For a second, I’m not sure he’s joking until I see the spark in his eyes.

Then I burst into laughter.

“She sounds like a real bitch.”

“I know. Yet she looks so innocent with her round cheeks and that hint of blue in her hair. You never see it coming. It’s almost like false advertising—or those bright jungle frogs that kill you with one touch.”

Not a nice comparison. I’m no frog.

But considering his jerkface good looks and the harem of supermodels he probably has on the side, he might think I am.

I can’t help feeling shriveled up.

But I down my drink in a couple more gulps, ignoring his crap.

At least jabbing at each other makes this ever so slightly less awkward.

It also makes me more prone to count my blessings.

I’m in Lanai with a gorgeous insider who’s sharp, funny, and my private tour guide for the day. Even the devil had his charms.

I finish my drink and set the empty glass on his desk.

“Okay then. Take me to the beach.”

“If I show you a secret exit, do you promise not to record it?”

It takes me a few seconds to realize he’s dead serious.

I make a pouty face. “Boo. I thought the point of these super exclusive hacks was to get me likes and subscribers. How does that work if I have to hide the coolest stuff?”

“Have faith, Miss Renee. I’ll show you plenty of breathtaking places you can video until you’re blind. This is a security matter,” he explains. “Several other luxury resorts have been the target of major break-ins and thefts in the last ten years. Some of them armed and violent. When they built this place, I made damn sure my staff had a secret exit in case of trouble. The island is exclusive and I doubt anyone with bad intentions would ever get far in Lanai. Still, I want my employees taken care of in the unlikely event tragedy strikes.”

“Oh. Wow. Maybe I won’t be a resort manager if you’re fighting off supervillains. I don’t like thinking about things like that.”

He chuckles. “You could have fooled me last night when you came charging with that lamp.”

“I really don’t.”

“Yeah? Even when you were ready to attack because you thought I was a serial killer?” He stares me down.

“Please. I’m thousands of miles from anyone I know, and some psycho broke into my room in the middle of the night. I had a right to freak out.”

That cocky smile I want to rip off his face reappears.

“Are you done, Miss Renee?” He stands and goes out the door of his private office, calling “Follow me” over his shoulder.

With a shrug, I trail him as he pushes a service door open and we step through it.

We head down a long hallway and I look around, wondering where the secret passage is.

The hall is long and dark. We haven’t come to another door or even a bend, but he stops anyway. “Here we are.”

“Here? I think whatever was in your glass was stronger than brandy,” I say sharply.

He gives me an arctic look.

I scan the long empty hallway around us, training my eyes on him. “Not to point out the obvious, but we’re in the middle of a hall.”

He doesn’t answer.

O-kay then.

“You usually say, ‘here we are,’ when you’ve arrived somewhere. But we haven’t. We’re still standing around having this conversation.” I wrinkle my nose.

“You think so?”

I nod.

“There’s a reason influencers aren’t paid for their security talents,” he clips.

What the hell does that mean? I’m about to ask, but I’m caught off guard when he moves, his massive body lurching forward.

He places both of his huge hands on the wall and shoves it so hard his body rocks.

Even as muscular as he is, he shouldn’t expect to be able to move a wall. I’m about to say as much when the wall shifts aside, revealing a blue square of light that leads into a courtyard of greenery and bright flowers.

“Whoa,” I whisper.

“Told you it was supersecret.”

“I’m honestly impressed,” I admit. “I never would’ve guessed that was there in a thousand years.”

“Glad you approve, Your Highness. Never breathe a word.”

I hold up my right hand, a little annoyed. “I solemnly swear, Prince Asshat.”

He gives me a heavy look like he’s disgusted that’s all I can come up with.

Then I follow him through the large garden.

Out here, it’s a painting come to life. Most of the flowers have large drops for petals and they come in every color and fragrance you can imagine.

I stop after a few paces, frozen in awe.

“So beautiful,” I gush, leaning in to sniff the sweetness.

“They’re verbena. Not exactly native to the islands, but they grow all over it now.”

I notice a peach and yellow flower with a bright-orange center. “Is that verbena too?”

“Hibiscus. It is native to Lanai, but there was none in this courtyard until I had it planted. The verbena were already here.”

“What? You’re the gardener too?” I laugh at the idea, genuinely shocked he knows as much about plants as he does.

“I review all of my lead employees personally, and that includes the gardener,” he says, straightening his tie.

“Can I pick one?” I ask.

“Normally, I’d say no. But since I owe you, take one.”

I try not to squeal with delight as I pluck a small hibiscus and tuck it behind my ear. “What’s the point in having a garden this beautiful and keeping it a big secret?”

“That exit I took you through is a secret, but we rent these gardens out for weddings. This is a popular spot for photos. There’s another entrance guests use,” he tells me.

Interesting.

Brock leads us down a path that snakes directly to a long line of white shimmering sand. “This is the same beach your balcony overlooks.”

“I don’t see anyone there. How does a beach this beautiful not get used?”

“It’s the closest you can get to a private beach on this island. The garden is the only real access that doesn’t involve tromping across natural fences of rocks, and since there’s no wedding on-site, you’re in luck.”

I stop and stare, taking it all in, smiling at the thought of some blushing bride enjoying the ceremony of her dreams.

“This would be wedding heaven,” I say.

“Today, it’s yours. You should watch your step, though, Miss Renee, there’s—”

I don’t let him finish.

White sand sprawls out in front of us. I run toward it at a ground-eating pace, feeling like I might break into song.

“This is so awesome!” I belt out, loving the warm sun on my shoulders.

“It’s a beach. And be careful, you’ll want to keep your sandals on to avoid any stray lava rocks. They can get sharp,” he warns.

I can tell by his tone he thinks I’m overreacting, but who cares?

Once he catches up to my reverie, I hold my phone out.

“Can you get a video of me, please?”

He takes my phone and stares at it like it’s an alien object.

“I’m your photographer now? Damn. I would’ve thought you’d be the selfie queen with what you post on your channels.”

“Oh, I am. But it’s windy out here and it’d be hard to get good video without fighting my hair the whole time. Let me know when you’re recording.”

He messes with my phone for a minute.

“Okay, go.”

I fall backward into the warm white sand.

“Hey, Pippa party people!” I chirp, flashing my brightest smile. For once, it’s not forced. “It’s your girl, coming to you from the beau-tiful Hawaiian island of Lanai. We’re practicing the best beach angels ever. Watch this!”

I move my arms and legs in the sand, my eyes closed, totally lost in the moment until I feel his gaze drifting over me.

Before I even look at him, I know.

He eyeballs me like he’s found tonight’s dinner, standing on this beach like he owns everything on it—including me.

Before him, I never understood how a look could be mesmerizing.

The kind of pure sorcery that reaches down inside you, strokes something deep, and makes every last bit of you shudder.

Something else he said hits me then.

Didn’t he mention my channels? Like he’s watched them?

Now, I’m burning for a different reason.

I don’t even know what to think or feel or hate about that.

“Are we still rolling?” I ask weakly.

I’m not sure if he hears me in the loud wind. He doesn’t move for at least ten seconds.

But Brock nods and taps the phone before holding it out to me.

“Here. I’m not responsible for any unflattering angles,” he says.

Shaking my head, I get my phone back and take a quick photo of my sand angel. “Don’t worry, I always do a little editing.”

“A little? Don’t influencers edit everything they post?”

“Some do, but I make an effort not to. Authentic, remember?”

He stares at me like he’s shocked.

“I love being an influencer, but there’s a dark side,” I say, turning to face the rolling ocean. “There’s a lot of talk about the toll social media has on mental health, and the way people suffer when this stuff gets so embedded in our lives.”

He nods slowly.

And I feel his eyes roaming me again. I’m bracing for another dick comment, but he just waits for more. It’s weird having a real conversation with this man.

“I like to share travels. They help the people who help me travel by watching my stuff and viewing ads. They also give me honest feedback about where I’ve been. I mean, if someone saved up for two years to take an amazing vacation, I hope my feedback helps them fall a little more in love with their free time.”

“You’re not in it for the comps,” he says vacantly, as if he’s surprised.

My hair tumbles in the breeze as I shake my head.

“No way. Life is hard enough, and we never get enough breaks.” I clear my throat, something harsh and sad at the edge of my words. “But a vacation is only a break if it’s the right experience at the right time. That’s why so many people come home saying things like ‘I need a vacation from my vacation.’”

“Miss Renee,” he whispers, grabbing me suddenly and pulling me closer. “If I send you home feeling that way, I’ll drop down in a pile of dirt and give you a hundred mud angels on the dirtiest part of this island.”

Holy hell.

He’s too good at this when he wants to be.

I’m glad my strange, sexy stalker man doesn’t look down as he lets me go, or he’d have enough ammo to make my life miserable for the whole trip.

God help me, my pigs are already scrunched up in my shoes.