Page 125 of Rule 4: Never Get Stranded with a Sports Reporter

I nod multiple times. “My pleasure.”

“Immigration lawyers are expensive,” Dmitri says. “I had bad experience with team one...”

“I can’t make promises,” I say. “It’s my expense, not yours. Please let me.”

Dmitri’s forehead creases, then he smiles. “Well, if it would make you happy...”

“It would.”

Finn looks at me, surprise evident on his face, before turning back to the screen. “Jason’s been different lately. In a good way.”

“New boyfriend will do that,” Dmitri says with a knowing grin.

“How did you know?” I ask.

“We have the internet in Sweden.” Oskar smirks. “Your interview was super romantic.”

I glance toward Cal, and the soft smile on his face makes something warm bloom in my chest.

I wave Cal over. He settles behind me, and I allow myself to sink into his generous form, his comfortable padding and non-angular limbs. He sweeps his arms around my waist, his citrus scent filling my nostrils. I tangle my fingers around his, then raise our joined hands and kiss his hand.

Awes break out immediately, a happy rumble around me that settles every cell.

“Look at you, being all domestic,” Troy calls out, his eyes shimmering.

“Shut up,” I say, but I’m smiling.

And for the first time in longer than I can remember, I’m exactly where I belong.

EPILOGUE

Jason

One Year Later

Off the Coast of Fiji

The morning is pure Hollywood glamor as I lead Cal to the jet ski. The sun hovers over the Pacific, spreading a golden haze like a medieval king throwing gold coins into the crowd. The wind rustles through the palm trees and plumeria; the foamy waves shimmer like crushed crystals; the colorful fish leap over the coral, wriggling their jeweled scales like Marilyn Monroe at her prime. Birds burst into cheerful songs, bouncing over tree limbs, shimmying and chirping with all the enthusiasm of a Broadway chorus.

I grin and resist the temptation to pat my shorts pocket as I slide onto the jet ski, then take his hand to help him on.

“I still can’t believe you brought us back here,” Cal says, wrapping his arms behind me, so his salt and citrus and coconut scent, courtesy of the hotel’s bodywash, wafts around me, reminding me that he’s there, and that everything is wonderful.

My heart does that fluttering thing it always does in Cal’s presence, like it still can’t believe this is real, that Cal is mine.

I grin. My heart’s really going be shocked in the next hour.

I thought about renting two jet skis, but there’s no point. I want as much of Cal’s skin behind me as I can.

“I read the safety inspection report twice. Besides, I got a tracker.” I hold it up. “We’ll be fine. Promise.”

“You said that before,” he grumbles, but I can hear the humor in his voice.

“Well, I wasn’t lying.”

He snorts, and warmth fills my body that has absolutely nothing to do with the hot Fiji sun above us.

Jesus Christ. Maybe I should drag Cal back to the hotel. We haven’t had sex since before breakfast.