Page 44 of Love in the Lab (Delaneys in Love #2)
Four Months Later
W hen Jonathan suggested taking a belated honeymoon that could double as a celebration of my thirtieth birthday, I thought it was a great idea.
My new lab is at a stage where it can afford to do without me for a week or two.
We’re waiting for confirmation of funding after I spent most of January and February creating the budget requests.
Until that confirmation, I can’t hire staff or start any research, so I’m in a bit of a holding pattern.
Jonathan has quickly become a fieldwork star in his new job, so much so that they want to send him to Alaska for three weeks for an ecological assessment of Kachemak Bay. He agreed with the caveat that he could take this time off with me first.
So, we packed our bags and drove to Florida—a week and a half relaxing in St. Petersburg before we need to be in St. Anastasia for Nicole and Adam’s wedding at the end of April.
The problem is, I’m not sure I’ve ever actually tried relaxing before, and I find that I’m not particularly good at it. We’ve spent the last three days driving all over the city visiting amazing museums and restaurants, and Jonathan showed off the beautiful campus where he went for undergrad.
Today, the plan is to take advantage of our beachside hotel and park ourselves in the sand and water for the day.
Thirty minutes in, Jonathan is dozing contentedly in his lounger under our rented beach cabana, and I’m… well, I’m totally bored and scrolling aimlessly on my phone. I tried reading a book, but even a light beach read couldn’t hold my attention.
I end up on a new social media site where scientists have started their own community to share research and chatter. I’m browsing the posts tagged with the “coastal science” hashtag, glad Jonathan is asleep so he can’t scold me for doing something work-adjacent while we’re on vacation.
On the site, a former colleague from NOSU has posted an article link, so I click it to learn more. I skim the headline and first sentence. Gasping loudly, I sit up and flail my arm toward Jonathan, smacking him square across his bare chest.
He bolts upright, simultaneously groggy and on high alert. “What happened? What’s wrong?” He darts his eyes around for any threats.
“Babe! You’ll never guess what just happened at NOSU!” I practically shout.
Jonathan stills, blinking toward me. “What happened to who where? Are you okay?”
“Me? Oh yeah, I’m fine, but you have to hear this!” I hold my phone up and wave it in front of him.
He rubs his eyes. “Wait. Are you on your phone looking at coastal science news?”
I purse my lips. “Maybe.”
He levels me with a stern expression. “We’re supposed to be relaxing.”
“I hate relaxing!” I whine. “I’m so bored!”
Jonathan checks the time on his phone. “We haven’t even been out here a whole hour yet!”
I toss my hair. “Regardless, the important thing is this news from NOSU.”
“Fine,” he sighs. “What is it?”
“Dr. Perron has been fired!” I announce dramatically.
“Wait, really?” Jonathan turns so he’s sitting upright with his bare feet on the sand in the space between our two chairs.
I hold back a smirk. “Yes! Apparently that new lab he was forming to study blue carbon offsetting—”
“The one he wanted me to run?” he interrupts.
“Uh-huh. It was funded by a huge fossil fuel company.” I name one of the most prominent big oil companies in the country. “ But … Dr. Perron didn’t accurately disclose that fact to the university.”
“Uh-oh.”
“Yep.” I’m skimming the article on my phone now and paraphrasing the information out loud. “When the administration found out, there was a big investigation. They didn’t want to be associated with the study because they were concerned about potential bias—”
“As they should be,” Jonathan cuts in.
“Turns out, Dr. Perron lied on the paperwork for the university about the funding organization for the project because he didn’t want them to find out who was paying for it.”
Jonathan leans forward, his elbows balanced on his thighs. “So, what happened?”
“The university completely shut down the project. They also fired Dr. Perron. Turns out that in addition to lying on the forms, apparently he was getting personal kickbacks from the fossil fuel company. He bought his own boat!”
Jonathan’s mouth drops open. “No way!”
“But here’s the best part. Guess who’s taking Dr. Perron’s place as the dean of the College of Coast and Environment?”
Jonathan’s eyes glimmer. “Is it—?”
“Yes!” I shout. Catching myself, I lower my voice as I read directly from the article. “‘Dr. Phyllis Gantt, a longtime faculty member, has been permanently promoted to the position.’”
“Good for her. Well deserved.” Jonathan nods thoughtfully. “Can you imagine if I had taken the position in that lab, though?”
“You wouldn’t have taken it,” I argue. “Not without knowing the funder, and once you found that out, you definitely wouldn’t have been involved.”
“No, I know. But if I had . My career would be over. Who would hire me after a blot like that?” His eyes grow comically large as he teases me. “You saved me when you married me!” He feigns a prostrate bow, both arms out.
I hold up a finger. “Not necessarily. You could totally pull off the whole slick-and-charming-evil-scientist thing if you had to. Even your name sounds like a corrupt oil baron.”
Jonathan squints at me in confusion. “The name Jonathan sounds like an oil baron?”
“J.P. Stanch,” I reply, enunciating each syllable.
He leans back in his chair, considering. “Huh.”
“Right?”
“Total villain vibes,” he admits.
I tsk. “With your charisma and pretty face, they’d be eating out of your hand. You could get away with murder.”
Jonathan sits up again, facing me. “I’m pretty sure that you’re teasing me, but you know I wouldn’t actually do something like that, right?”
His expression is so earnest I can’t keep up the farce. I take his hand between both of mine and squeeze. “Of course I know that,” I tell him softly. I lift his hand and press a kiss onto his palm.
He exhales. “Okay, good.”
“But I might murder someone if I have to keep lying on this beach ‘relaxing’ for much longer.”
He laughs. “What do you want to do?”
“Go for a swim, build a sandcastle, pack up the beach things and go kayaking. Anything else. Please.”
He stands and pulls me to my feet, tugging me toward the water.
“Wait!” I stop to remove my cover up, leaving me in a black one-piece swimsuit with a scalloped deep V-neck.
Jonathan looks me up and down, a ravenous glint in his eyes. “A swim is definitely a good idea,” he says huskily.
“This is a family beach,” I scold him.
Jonathan looks around. The beach isn’t crowded by any means, but we’re within sight of several other couples and some families with young kids. “Okay, new plan. A quick swim and then back to the hotel room.”
I tap a finger against my chin. “How about a long swim, then sandcastles, then back to the hotel room to shower and change for lunch, and then kayaking?” I remove my glasses and drop them into my beach bag.
He pulls me against his chest. “You drive a hard bargain, Dr. Delaney, but I’m in.” I can’t see his face, but I feel his muscles tense just before he drops his arms and takes off running. “But you have to catch me first!”
I try to chase him, but my feet slide in the sand, and I can’t stop laughing. I finally make it to the shoreline where Jonathan waits for me, hands on his hips.
“What took you so long?”
I take in the sight of him as he comes more into focus the closer I get.
My husband. His skin is tan and gleaming, accentuating the strength in his arms and legs.
His torso is chiseled above his board shorts, leading up to muscular shoulders.
His lips are open in that heart-stopping smile I love so much, the one that makes me weak in the knees.
His eyes are mischievous, the swirls of green and brown electrified against the water behind him.
His dark curls are devastatingly handsome as they fall across his forehead.
More importantly: his fun-loving spirit, his sense of humor, his thoughtfulness, his magnetic personality. The way he loves me as I am.
I shake my head. Why did it take me so long to see this man clearly?
I walk up to him, my feet skimming through the shallow water where it meets the sand. Standing on my tiptoes, I kiss his chin, then his cheek. Finally, I brush his lips with mine.
I pull back enough to meet his eyes. “I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere.”