Page 74 of That Conflicted Feeling

“Yeah, this cove is sheltered.Andif everything has gone according to plan, the housekeeper should have left something for us right over there.”Ipoint at a group of large rocks at the base of the cliff wall that towers above us.

Polly’shands fall from my waist asItentatively jog over pebbles that rattle and shift underfoot.Ilook behind the biggest rock and drag out a basket and one ofWalker’sToastedTomatobranded coolers.

Pollymakes short work of stamping down and flattening out an area to lay out the blankets and cushions that were in the basket, using one of the big rocks as a backrest, whileIopen the champagne and pour two drinks.

Shekicks off her sandals, sits down cross-legged, leans back against the cushions, and pushes her dress down between her legs.

Ikneel beside her and hand her a glass. “Here’sto not murdering my rival on a secluded beach.”

“Reassuring,” she says as she chinks her glass against mine and takes a sip.

Shetips her face to the sun and releases a contented sigh.

Draggingmy eyes away from the sight of her glistening lips,Ireach back into the cooler.

“I’dthought there would be actual lunch in here, but it looks like this is all there is.”Ihold up a glass container, two giant chocolate cupcakes visible through the side. “Apparentlywe’re going straight for dessert.”

Pollysets her glass down on the large flat rock we’re leaning against asItake the lid off the container.

“Bringit on,” she says as she lifts out a cake as delicately as if it were a butterfly.

“Iwas really hoping for a sandwich or something.”Idouble check the cooler just in caseImissed anything. “Idon’t have much of a sweet tooth.And, goodGod, these things are as much frosting as they are cake.”

“It’sa work of art, though,”Pollysays, turning it around in her hands. “Lookhow much care’s gone into it.Theraspberry swirls in the frosting.Thislittle chocolate lattice thingy stuck in the top.Itlooks like the housekeeper made these with love.”

Wenestle back on the cushions and dig into our cupcakes silently.

ApartfromPolly’scontented sighs and groans, that is.

“You’remaking sex noises to the cake.”

Shestops mid-chew and peers at me over her sunglasses. “I’mnot.”

“Youare.Likethis.”

Istick out my tongue as far asIcan and wiggle it deep into the frosting on my cake likeI’min a porn movie, then close my eyes asItake a long slow bite and emit an exaggerated erotic moan.

Shepunches my arm. “Thatis totally not whatIwas doing.”

“Ittotally was.”

Shecrams the last huge lump of cake in her mouth as unsexily as possible, her body rocking with laughter so much that some of the frosting rubs off on the end of her nose.

Shepulls herself together and chews silently, completely unaware of the frosting-on-nose situation.

“You’reconcentrating super hard on not making any sounds now, aren’t you?”

Shenods, and snort-coughs as she tries to laugh, chew, and breathe at the same time.It’sdeeply satisfying to knowIcan read her perfectly.

“Pleasedon’t die choking on a cupcake.”Ipat her on the back. “I’dnever be able to carry your corpse back up that slope.”

Herbody shakes with more silent laughter, and she yanks off her sunglasses to reveal tears trickling down her cheeks.Fuck, she’s not just annoyingly adorable, she’s annoyingly hilarious too.

“Youare such a giggler.”

Shepoints at her hamster cheeks.

“Andyou can’t talk, can you?Becauseyou’re laughing so hard you can’t swallow that cake.”