“The only thing that would make this trip better are nonvirgin piña coladas,” I say with a sigh, rolling to my side since I can’t comfortably lie on my stomach.

At my comment, Tyler lifts his head and pushes his sunglasses up into his hair to look at me. “Baby . . . you, sunshine, and alcohol don’t mix, or do I need to remind you of our honeymoon?”


“Our honeymoon,” I parrot. “A week of sun, sand, and hot sex.”

“The first day, you were hungover.”

“Yes.” But just that first day. After that I learned not to drink so much while spending time under the hot sun. “Hot, dirty, drunk sex was phenomenal,” I remind him.

His eyes light in a different way. “You got me there.” His grin and his large hand coming to rest on my hip make my stomach flutter. “I’m pretty sure you don’t need a drink to get dirty for me.”

“No, I don’t think I do,” I whisper as his palm snakes up my side to rest just under my breast.

“Let’s see if that’s true,” he rumbles before he kisses me. Then he pulls me from my lounger and takes me inside to our room, where he proves I don’t need a drink to get dirty for him.

Four days later, feeling relaxed and revitalized, we pull into our garage. As soon as I open my car door, he’s there to take my hand in his, and I smile while he places a soft kiss on my lips. When we get inside, our beautiful girl runs to us down the hall, shrieking, “Mommy and Daddy are home!” while she throws herself into us. Tyler picks her up, and we hold her between us, showering kisses on her chubby cheeks and listening to her say how much she’s missed us. I look at my husband over our daughter’s head and know I found my happily ever after and that I caught something beautiful when I caught the guy next door.

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