Tropical Love: Second Chance Romantic Comedy (Postscript Island Prequel) (Postscript Island Series) by R. S. Jonesee

Author:R. S. Jonesee [Jonesee, R. S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: I Live You Publishing
Published: 2021-08-12T04:00:00+00:00

11

Francesca

Bitzi Island, an offshoot landmass, was once a part of Postscript. Thirty years ago, hurricane Geneva changed the ocean floor and typography, creating a small island. Hardly anyone traveled there since spindly brush grew over most of the land. But Kingman and I took many trips there when we were kids. One section had sand so white we dubbed it Snow Beach.

Paddling the kayak worked shoulder muscles in a killer way that lifting weights did not. Add in sunshine and brightly colored fish swimming around us, a home gym held nothing compared to this natural setting.

As we paddled along, I splashed Kingman. He dipped his oar and flung water back. Just like the good old times.

“Bet I can beat you there.” A race always happened on our way to the island.

“Probably, but you need to be careful since you haven’t paddled a kayak in a long time. You might regret that tomorrow.”

With the plan I had in mind, I might regret more than sore muscles. When Kingman suggested we visit this secluded island, I hoped he was proposing more than a simple trip.

The excitement that flared in his eyes confirmed it.

A worry rose of him being hurt again. But he knew I’d head back to California, so I didn’t see why we couldn’t share a mutual passion while remaining friends.

It was his choice.

I still planned to tell him the truth, but after these fun times together, I convinced myself to wait until my final day. By then our friendship would help him with the shock of hearing his mom made me break our engagement.

“Are we landing on Snow Beach?” Even though a line of sand circled the island, because of the invading vegetation, Snow Beach had the most depth. At least it used to.

“Yes, the island hasn’t changed, so it’s still the best.” Kingman paddled through the water, and I marveled at how his back and shoulder muscles moved. His biceps bulged as he stroked the oar. A firm chest and a six-pack stomach flexed with each movement. And those long, strong fingers gave evidence they’d work wonders on a woman’s body.

Kingman should be chosen as People’s sexiest man alive.

A mad desire to run hands over that back, over that chest, and down to his belly button had me burning up. I dabbed cool water on my hot face. I felt like a horny-toad teenager again, and I welcomed it.

We rounded an outcropping of brush and came upon a canoe resting on the shore. My excitement dulled at the idea that someone had stolen our privacy. A man and a woman sitting on the beach waved at us. We rammed the kayaks up on the sand.

“Enjoying Bitzi Island?” Kingman asked.

The man nodded. “Guess so. We just got here but there’s not much to the place.”

I lifted a canvas sack out of the kayak’s front cubby and shook it, making a clanging noise. “So you didn’t see the big black snake that everyone’s been talking about?” Kingman side-glanced at me with his brows down.

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