The Problem with Princes (The Monarchy Matches Series Book 1) by Mindy Burbidge Strunk

Author:Mindy Burbidge Strunk [Strunk, Mindy Burbidge]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: FiveJoys Press
Published: 2023-09-03T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

We toss the ball around for more than an hour, until finally my legs scream with the exertion of running through the water. So much for allowing them to relax today.

Tyrone wades toward me. “You look tired. Should we head back and have something to eat?”

I nod and he comes toward me, taking my hand. He glances at me from the corner of his eyes, almost as if he is uncertain that it is okay, after the kiss.

I give his hand a squeeze, and he tugs me a little closer.

We come out of the water, and I practically collapse onto the towel I have spread out on the sand. I lay on my back and close my eyes, stretching my arms up above my head and pointing my toes, enjoying a full body stretch.

Ty takes in a sharp breath, and I realize too late that my rash guard top has slid up, exposing a portion of my belly. I put my hand above my eyes, shielding them from the sunlight.

“What happened to your stomach?” He stares down at me.

I bite my lip.

After he’d spilled his coffee down the front of me, I’d had all kinds of imaginings about what I would say to him if he ever found out what his coffee had done to me. At the time, it had seemed completely impossible that I would see him again. Let alone show him my stomach. But now, sitting here with him, liking him a lot, I can’t bring myself to say all the snappy, cutting lines I came up with in my head.

I run the sand through my fingers and avert my eyes. “I had an accident. But it’s getting better.”

He kneels beside me, and I feel his finger gently shift the rash guard up a little more. His face blanches, and he looks from my stomach to my face. “This isn’t from—” He stops and swears in Greek.

I push his hand away and pull the rash guard down as I sit up. “It’s not a big deal,” I lie. The stricken look on his face makes it impossible to accuse him as I had planned out in my head.

“I did that, didn’t I? That’s my fault.” He sits back on his heels and looks down at my thighs, as if remembering every spot the coffee had dropped, but my board shorts keep those burns covered.

I put a hand on his arm. “You didn’t spill your coffee on me on purpose. It was an accident that was every bit as much my fault as it was yours.”

He gives a mirthless laugh. “Yeah, and I was so concerned about you following the accident.” He runs his hand through his hair and drops back onto his behind, pulling one knee up. “No wonder you thought I was such a jerk. You’ll have those scars to remember me by for the rest of your life.”

He hits his forehead with his palm. “And then I wanted to call you coffee as a pet name? How have you not slapped me yet?”

I grin.

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