Page 14
Story: Falling for Mr. Billionaire
Instead, I laughed. I leaned in. I played along.
And for a second—just one stupid second—I forgot about the storm. The deadline. The danger of letting someone like him get too close.
This wasn’t the plan.
But now, his hand brushes against mine as we walk, and … I don’t pull away.
As we make our way down the beach path, the winds pick up again—light at first, but enough to remind us that this storm isn’t done with us yet.
Silence stretches between us—not awkward, just easy. The steady crash of waves fills the space, and I realize how strangely natural it feels to be around him.
Then, without thinking, I ask, “So, what’s your story?”
He chuckles softly. “My story? Oh, you know—just your average guy pretending he’s got it all figured out.”
I arch a brow, smirking. “And here I thought you were just out here flexing your muscles in case the storm needed a hero.”
He grins, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Well, it never hurts to be prepared.”
The breeze whips gently around us, lifting the hem of my dress again and sending goosebumps racing across my skin.
Carter’s shirt flutters open at the collar, revealing more of that tanned chest I pretended not to notice at dinner. The fabric clings to him in places, molded against solid muscle and a broad frame that looks too good under moonlight.
I try not to stare. I try really hard.
But between the wind, the laughter, and the way his voice dips when he says my name—God help me, I’m unraveling.
And the scariest part?
I’m not sure I want to stop.
“The storm seems to be picking up. We should probably go inside,” I say with more urgency than I meant.
He chuckles. “Afraid of a little wind?”
I scoff. “I’m not afraid of anything.”
“Uh-huh.” He glances up at the sky, smirking. “Let’s head over to our room. Looks like we’ve got about five minutes before this turns ugly.”
I follow his gaze. He’s right. The clouds are rolling in fast, and the waves are rougher than before.
We arrive at the entrance leading to our bungalow and he steps aside, gesturing toward the path. “After you, Tornado.”
I roll my eyes but start walking, Carter falling into step beside me. The wind howls around us, and a sudden gust sends my hat flying toward the beach.
“Crap!” I run after it, but Carter is faster. He snatches it out of the air and holds it just out of reach, grinning.
“Really?” I glare at him. “Give it back.”
He twirls it between his fingers. “You know, you say you’re not afraid of anything, but I’m pretty sure you flinched when that thunder hit earlier.”
I cross my arms. “I did not.”
He doesn’t look convinced, but he lets it go, and I place the hat back on my head like an idiot, so of course, the wind takes it again.
He chuckles and rolls his eyes before retrieving it once more, but this time, he holds onto it. “Come on, let’s get inside,” he insists, reaching for my hand.
I hesitate for a moment, feeling the warmth of his hand enveloping mine. A jolt of electricity shoots through me at the contact, surprising me with its intensity. But I can’t deny the comfort it brings as we speed-walk through the growing storm.
And for a second—just one stupid second—I forgot about the storm. The deadline. The danger of letting someone like him get too close.
This wasn’t the plan.
But now, his hand brushes against mine as we walk, and … I don’t pull away.
As we make our way down the beach path, the winds pick up again—light at first, but enough to remind us that this storm isn’t done with us yet.
Silence stretches between us—not awkward, just easy. The steady crash of waves fills the space, and I realize how strangely natural it feels to be around him.
Then, without thinking, I ask, “So, what’s your story?”
He chuckles softly. “My story? Oh, you know—just your average guy pretending he’s got it all figured out.”
I arch a brow, smirking. “And here I thought you were just out here flexing your muscles in case the storm needed a hero.”
He grins, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Well, it never hurts to be prepared.”
The breeze whips gently around us, lifting the hem of my dress again and sending goosebumps racing across my skin.
Carter’s shirt flutters open at the collar, revealing more of that tanned chest I pretended not to notice at dinner. The fabric clings to him in places, molded against solid muscle and a broad frame that looks too good under moonlight.
I try not to stare. I try really hard.
But between the wind, the laughter, and the way his voice dips when he says my name—God help me, I’m unraveling.
And the scariest part?
I’m not sure I want to stop.
“The storm seems to be picking up. We should probably go inside,” I say with more urgency than I meant.
He chuckles. “Afraid of a little wind?”
I scoff. “I’m not afraid of anything.”
“Uh-huh.” He glances up at the sky, smirking. “Let’s head over to our room. Looks like we’ve got about five minutes before this turns ugly.”
I follow his gaze. He’s right. The clouds are rolling in fast, and the waves are rougher than before.
We arrive at the entrance leading to our bungalow and he steps aside, gesturing toward the path. “After you, Tornado.”
I roll my eyes but start walking, Carter falling into step beside me. The wind howls around us, and a sudden gust sends my hat flying toward the beach.
“Crap!” I run after it, but Carter is faster. He snatches it out of the air and holds it just out of reach, grinning.
“Really?” I glare at him. “Give it back.”
He twirls it between his fingers. “You know, you say you’re not afraid of anything, but I’m pretty sure you flinched when that thunder hit earlier.”
I cross my arms. “I did not.”
He doesn’t look convinced, but he lets it go, and I place the hat back on my head like an idiot, so of course, the wind takes it again.
He chuckles and rolls his eyes before retrieving it once more, but this time, he holds onto it. “Come on, let’s get inside,” he insists, reaching for my hand.
I hesitate for a moment, feeling the warmth of his hand enveloping mine. A jolt of electricity shoots through me at the contact, surprising me with its intensity. But I can’t deny the comfort it brings as we speed-walk through the growing storm.
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