Page 70 of 21 Nights with Billionaire Boss

Chance turns off the main highway into a narrower street. The road is winding and the air is cooler, more salty. Around us, the dense trees thin, giving way to palm trees.

It doesn’t take long to hear the churning of the ocean. I glance at Chance, my brows furrowed. Maybe he forgot the way to where we’re supposed to go.

But he drives confidently and pulls up at the beach, then the car stops.

I look at him until he turns to me. His brow goes up in a silent question.

“What are we doing here?”

“What do you mean? We’re here to have fun at the beach. You looked like you wanted to come the other day.”

My jaw drops. “You remember that?”

“Don’t make it a thing.” He looks away and exits the car.

I follow suit, still gaping. I spare the ocean a wide-eyed look before turning to the man looking off into the distance.

“Chance, this is sweet.” It’s hard to walk with my shoes in the sand but I manage to reach him.

He looks down at me, a line between his brows as if he disapproves that I called his gesture sweet.

“But I’m not dressed for the beach.” I point to my gown and shoes. “And neither are you.”

He takes off his jacket and shoes and tosses them in the car. “You can just take off the shoes.”

“And ruin my dress?”

His gaze slides over me. “I’ll get you another.”

“Chance, you don’t—”

I’m whisked off my feet before I can finish that thought.

He throws me over his shoulder. His hand clamps down on my legs and my hands and torso hang down his back.

A scream tears from my throat. “What are you doing?”

He takes off my shoes and then we’re moving.

“Chance!” I slap his back. “Put me down.”

His chest rumbles with laughter but he doesn’t stop.

I only understand his plan when I hear the waves very close.

“No, don’t you dare.” I grab the fabric of his shirt tight. “Don’t throw me down. Don’t—”

He throws me.

I’m screaming my throat raw and holding him so firmly that we go down together. The water instantly swallows us and then recedes.

It’s refreshing, but I’m mad. I face him, fury battering my chest. “What did you do that for?”

He’s laughing, eyes squinted up to the sun. He’s soaked from his head to his bare toes. He swipes away the hair plastered to his forehead and looks at me with bright eyes.

“You have to admit. That was a little funny.”

“It’s not!” I hop to my feet. “Look at my dress.”