The Runaway Mom

Chapter 16

"What?" I blurt out. Caspian and I are standing outside the vineyard's entrance gate with just his bike. This isn't the exercise I had in mind. Am I just . . . ? Gracious, I'm getting so wild.

"Why?" He chuckles. "What exercise do you have in mind?" He bends down, our faces so close his lips almost touch mine.

I clear my throat and look away. "Nothing. Let's just go, shall we?" I turn on my heels and start walking towards the bridge. "So, I did a bit of research on this bridge walk. Depending on how fast we go, it can take anywhere from 30 to 40 minutes to get across if we're walking at about 3 miles per hour. And if we decide to do the whole round trip, it'll be around 1 to 1.5 hours. Just thought you should know." I pretend to keep scrolling on his phone, and I hear him laugh behind me.

"Hey, you walk too fast," he comments as he catches up to my pace, messing up my hair and kissing it when he finally wraps his arms around my waist. He holds his bike by the seat with one hand on the left side of the road, while I walk beside the railings on the right; our speed now matches.

I pout and hand him his phone.

"I don't have a pocket. Can you keep it for me, babe?" He kisses my nose, still teasing.

"Stop," I say, covering my face and putting his phone in my small woven straw rope crossbody bag I bought from Saoirse's souvenir shop earlier.

"Fine," he chortles. Gracious, this guy! "But I see you're interested in museums." I shift my gaze from the distant saltwater below us to meet his. "One of your sticky notes fell on the porch table," he points out. "I don't do anything, I'm innocent here." He even lifts his two hands, as if surrendering.

"You don't have to be so defensive, Casper," I can't help chuckling and start examining him. He always looks hot, like seriously smoking in that white polo shirt. It's slightly open, three buttons up, showing off his chiseled chest—don't even get me started on those biceps, gosh! Paired with beige shorts and flip-flops, he still gives off a laid-back vibe, with a jaw that could cut steel and a lean, toned physique that isn't overly bulky. I never really cared much for muscles until now, but I've got to admit, I'm kind of into how he's got all those muscles without looking too beefy. The only thing that seems to be missing is a coconut with a little straw umbrella to complete that whole tropical vibe.

"Yes, baby?"

"Will you join me?" I ask in return.

"I'd be wherever you are, babe. You don't even have to ask." He winks and intertwines his fingers with mine. Our hands fit together perfectly, like they're made for each other. His touch makes me feel complete, like every part of my slender, rectangular body is designed just for him. It's kind of weird, honestly.

I've said it already, maybe twice, but it still surprises me how comfortable I feel with myself when I'm with him, or when he's staring at me like that. It's like his eyes have been glued to mine for centuries now, and if reincarnation is real, this might just be it because I keep getting déjà vu. The hair on my nape even rises—good heavens! I just got chills in my face too, and I literally stop walking.

"What is it, babe?" I snap out of my daze as the loud noise of his bike falling echoes across the bridge, his hands cupping my cheeks.

I blink, momentarily at a loss for words, trying to process what just happened. "Um, nothing really, just . . ." Slowly, I glance sideways at the hundred-dollar bike lying on the ground. "Your bike, babe," I manage to say slowly, my gaze scanning over it incredulously. "That looks like a hell of a pricey bike, and . . ." I pause, and bend down to pick it up. Turning back to him, I notice he's sweating, gulping like he's desperate for water. I scratch my nape awkwardly, feeling a twinge of guilt. "I'm sorry, did I startle you?"