Page 18 of Stick Break (Boston Bucks #8)

I burst out laughing. “Wow, now she’s living rent free in your brain.” I pick up the plastic bag. “I guess we’ll have to find some other way to pass the day then.” I open the bag and find a sundress, two-piece bathing suit, touristy hat, and water wings. “These for you?” I tease.

“The dress and bathing suit are for you.” He snatches the water wings and tears into the packaging. “These are for me.”

My insides soar with laughter. God, this man is so much fun to be around. How could his ex dangle him like she’s doing. Doesn’t she know a good guy when she sees one? “Rip you’re insane.”

He blows one up and can only manage to get it to his wrist. He holds it out and examines it like it’s a jeweled bracelet. “Perfect fit.”

I turn and look out over the water, my happiness waning a little. “Does that mean you want to go boating?”

“Hey,” he says quickly, his voice soft, full of understanding. “I don’t want to do anything you don’t want to do, but it could be fun. You remember what I said about riding a horse.”

“I thought that’s what I was going to do,” I tease and he pulls me against him.

“You were about to ride o ride Big Bear,” Rip says, voice low and rough, “Just so we’re clear, that offer’s still on the table.”

I eye the flimsy patio table between us and give it a little test rock. Creak. I pucker my lips thoughtfully. “This one?”I rock it . “I don’t know, Rip. I’m not sure it’s built to take that kind of pounding.”

He lets out a bark of laughter, clearly delighted. The kind of delighted that makes his eyes dance and his mouth curve into a grin I feel everywhere.

Pounding.

Honestly, who even am I right now?

Apparently, someone he likes. A lot.

“How did we never meet before?” he asks, still grinning.

“Well,” I say, “We live on opposite sides of the country. Also, you were apparently in a committed relationship with a woman who doesn’t appreciate your floaty-wearing, casserole-bringing, fake-fiancée-having self.”

“Tragic,” he deadpans. “So. Boating?”

He’s fiddling with his water wings again like they’re a vital part of the plan. “I promise to stay close to shore,” he says, all serious now. “And if you’re uncomfortable atanytime, we come right back in. No questions asked.”

That melts me a little. I mean, how is this man real?

“That could be fun,” I say. “You know, to pass the time.”

“Not as fun as some other things I could think of,” he says, and gives me a playful swat on the backside that sets me into motion. “We need to get moving. We’ve got to be back for Mrs. Callahan’s five o’clock early bird special. No time to waste.”

I scoop up my guitar and rush inside to stash it safely, then head to the bathroom to change. Which feels… silly, considering the man has already seen me naked. But still, I close it anyway.

I hold up the bikini he bought.Of coursehe found the tiniest one in existence. I grin and shake my head.The audacity. Still, I put it on, and damn if it doesn’t fit perfectly.

I slide on the new sundress and when I step back out, Rip’s sitting on the edge of the sofa, staring at his phone like it’s giving him bad news. He doesn’t say anything, but his face is all tight lines and tension, that faraway look again. I don’t need to ask who it is.I know it’s…her.

I make a noise and he glances up, and just like that, the weight lifts. His eyes lock on me and boom, we’re back.

“That fits you,” he says, voice a little husky.

I give a little twirl. “It’s cute. You have surprisingly decent taste for a man who voluntarily purchased water wings.”

He narrows his eyes playfully. “Am I going to get to see what’s under that dress?”

“Seriously, Rip? You couldn’t find asmallerbikini?”

He bites his bottom lip like he knows exactlywhat he did. “Kind of the point.”

I shake my head, laughing. “At least you’re honest. And no, you arenotgetting to see me in it.”

He pouts dramatically. “Maybe later?”

“Maybe,” I say, and glance at his outfit. “You planning to swim in those shorts?”

“Right.” He hops up.

“And for the love of God, take off those water wings.”

“Hell no. A deal’s a deal.” He pumps them up with all the determination of a man preparing for war. “Also, I’m leaving the door open in case you want to sneak a peek.”

“How generousof you.”

“I’m obviously the better fake fiancé,” he says with a wink.

And then, true to his word, he heads into the bedroom and leaves the door open. He turns his back, kicks off his shorts, and glances at me over his shoulder just to make sure I’m watching .

I am. Oh, I definitely am.

As he pulls on his swim trunks, I find myself staring and smiling, warmth blooming in my chest.

How did we never meet before this?

But that thought dims as quickly as it came. Because while this feels like a bubble—safe and shiny and full of promise—I know what waits outside it. The world still remembers the girl in the sex tape. The scandal career. The headlines. No man wants to sign up for that.

And Rip… Rip’s still tethered to a woman who doesn’t know what she’s got, but owns a piece of his heart anyway.

So, no. No matter how good it feels here in this cottage, in this moment, there’s no future for Rip and Charley. Not in the real world.