Quick & Dirty (The Quick Billionaires Book 1) by Whitley Cox

Author:Whitley Cox [Cox, Whitley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-03-28T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

It was day six, and we’d finally managed to get out for that hike he’d been promising me. Hopping in his Jeep after another glorious morning of swimming, sex and breakfast cunnilingus, we parked at the base of the mountain, tossed on our sunglasses, SPF and backpacks and set forth up the trail.

We’d reached the top of The Belvedere Lookout, having made good time, and even though I was slightly out of breath from the trek, had I not been, the view alone would have done the job. It was stunning. You could see everything from the viewpoint, the entire island, in all its heart-shaped beauty.

It was busy at the top, loads of eager-beaver vacationers trying to snap that perfect shot, while at the same time avoid having an unknown person photo-bomb their attempt at a postcard-worthy photo (weren’t we all?). Sunset was the best time to come, Tate had said as we meandered around the top, dodging other weary but bright-eyed hikers, as it painted the sky into a rainbow of reds, oranges, pinks, yellows and purples. But if you wanted to hike (which we did), that was best done in the daylight. He promised that another night we’d drive up and enjoy the sunset. I didn’t really care either way; I was on top of the world and feeling amazing. The hike had been exhilarating, awakening muscles and challenging my lungs in ways I just didn’t experience doing the front crawl every morning in the pool. And the reward at the end was totally worth it. We were at the pinnacle of paradise, and I couldn’t imagine experiencing it with anyone else. My heart felt light and my mind clear as I swept my hair off my neck and dabbed a towel on my chest to mop up the thin layer of sweat that had accumulated.

“Tell me about your family,” Tate asked, handing me a water bottle out of his backpack.

“Thanks,” I replied, taking a healthy swig from the bottle, running the back of my wrist over my mouth.

We wandered over to the edge and elbowed our way to the front. The din of marveling and awestruck tourists along with the snap and click of cameras filled the warm breeze, while the unfettered view of the Opunohu Valley left many others in introspective silence. I was one of the quieter ones.

“So? Your family?” he asked again.

At this point, I’d pulled out my own camera and was adjusting the lens and specs to account for how bright it was. “What’s there to say?” I finally said, moving to the left just a smidge and out of the shadow of a big tall blond man behind me. He looked part mountain, part man. “Mom was sixteen when she had me. Never met my dad.”

Obviously that was not the answer Tate had been anticipating, because his eyebrows nearly shot clear off his tanned forehead. “Oh.”

I couldn’t hide the wry smirk that tugged at my lips as I continued to take pictures.

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