Chasing Paradise Read Online Jessica Gadziala

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Suspense Tags Authors: Jessica Gadziala Advertisement

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He wasn’t crazy enough to have gone all the way back to Miami.

And the alley where he’d first grabbed and confronted me had recently been overtaken by one of the buildings, being used as a storage space.

Which left… the airport to the Galapagos.

Or Santa Cruz.

Or, of course, Isla Perdita.

“You’re a pain in my ass, Wick,” I grumbled to myself as I looked back out at the rainforest, trying to decide if I should chase him then, or waited until morning.

I mean, after all, the planes wouldn’t fly to the islands at night.

Maybe it would serve him right to sit alone at the airport his whole wedding night, worrying about me.

“Dammit,” I sighed, rolling my neck.

I couldn’t wait until morning.

He would get the first plane off and I’d have no chance of catching him.

And as much as I’d like to claim I was evolved enough about not wanting to snag him, I wasn’t.

Spraying on some more bug repellent for good measure, I refilled my water, grabbed the hunting knife stored in the bean, then headed back out, trailing rose petals as I went.

By the time I emerged from the rainforest, it was nearing morning, everything was aching, and I was ready to prove to my husband that he couldn’t beat me.

The road from the rainforest to the airport was long enough for me to doze off and catch some much-needed sleep.

Even though I hadn’t wasted time, I didn’t see Wick at the airport.

Though I did find someone waiting holding a sign with my name on it, a large coffee, and something in a brown bag.

I didn’t need to look inside to know it was a blueberry muffin.

Tired, achy, sticky from old sweat, I was still smiling as I sat down in my seat to drink my coffee, eat my muffin, and reminisce about how much life had changed in the course of a year.

I’d gone from being a complete workaholic, couch surfing, zoning out with TV shows in my free time, and feeling a loneliness I didn’t even share with my closest friends, to only working when I really liked a case, having a home with Wick in Navesink Bank, but also exploring the world with him, visiting all the places he thought I needed to see, and so in love that it was almost painful to be away from Wick for too long.

The plane landed, and I was feeling a little more human thanks to the coffee and muffin.

So good, in fact, that when I saw a familiar white straw hat walking toward the docks, I broke into a sprint.

I didn’t slow down.

I ran at him at full force, knocking him to the ground and coming down on top of him.

He made a grunt as he pushed up and rolled over.

I knew a second before I saw his face that something was wrong. He smelled wrong. Felt wrong.

The man below me shot me a smile, clearly in on the game, then nodded his head over toward the docks.

Where freaking Wick was beaming at me as his speedboat pulled away.

“Damn you,” I grumbled at his retreating form. I climbed off the stranger. “Nice hat,” I said to him as he got to his feet. “I hope he paid you to get tackled.”

“He said I might get knocked around a bit,” he said, patting the sand off his clothes.

I rushed toward the dock, frustrated when I had to wait for the next speedboat to fill up before we took off toward Santa Cruz.

By the time I made it off one speedboat on the next island, Wick was already idling inside another, shooting me a playful grin.

“You’re gonna pay for this!” I called as I spotted his personal speedboat still docked. One of the workers stood there, holding the rope, ready to release it when I jumped in.

I hadn’t grown any fonder of speedboats since that first trip to the Galapagos. And I’d only gotten behind the wheel once, and hated that even more.

But there was Wick, turning his boat in a little circle, face daring me.

“Dammit,” I grumbled, rushing down the dock, throwing my bag into the boat, then climbing inside.

Before I could even get my nerve up to tease the throttle forward, Wick took off, leaving waves in his wake that rocked my boat.

“Ugh,” I grumbled, knuckles white as I eased the throttle forward. My stomach bottomed out as the boat lurched forward.

I’d love to claim that being in control of the vessel helped me overcome my fear and borderline seasickness.

But that would be a lie.

I wanted to race Wick, to beat him to Isla Perdita.

But he left me in his dust as I kept a granny hold on the throttle, getting to the dock long after he’d climbed off and tied down his boat, then promptly disappeared.

“There better be a bath drawn for me and a back rub in my future,” I said as I gracelessly climbed off the boat and did my best to mimic the tie Wick had done with the other boat before walking down the dock toward the island house.

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