“Well, someone needs to. God knows you’ve been too busy running your mouth to kiss her proper.”

“Something I plan to remedy,” Jake said, his face already dipping toward hers.

The reporter in the coral suit had a microphone between them before they had time to react.

“Um, excuse me, Mr. Malone, Ms. Brighton … one more question? There’s something I think the readers are dying to find out.”

“What?” Jake grumbled.

“Well, um …” The reporter glanced at Camille, who nodded emphatically. “The final poll question is, will they or won’t they? Would you guys like to weigh in?”

Jake frowned. “Will we or won’t we what?”

The reporter frowned and looked around in confusion. “Um …”

“You know what? Screw it,” Jake said, turning back to Grace. “We’re doing it. That’s our official answer. We’re doing all of it.”

The reporter gave a relieved smile before turning back to the camera. “And there you have it, folks. They’re doing it. All of it.”

“Well, that sounded good and properly dirty,” Riley muttered once the cameras had been turned off. “Camille’s going to poop a cow.”

Grace and Jake weren’t listening.

And Riley was right. Some of it was dirty. Later.

But mostly, it was wonderful. All of it.

Epilogue

One week later …

“What’s with the frown?” Jake asked, turning to glance at Grace.

“This isn’t a frown, it’s my thinking face.”

“Must be some serious thoughts.”

“Very,” she replied, tossing aside the cocktail menu before stretching out more comfortably on the chaise lounge. “I can’t decide if I want a piña colada or a margarita. I’m kind of feeling like coconut, but I really like the way they shape their lime garnishes into those fun little shapes on the margaritas.”

Jake rolled his eyes before pushing his sunglasses back onto his nose. “You know, for someone who claims to not have the travel bug, you seem to be acclimating quite well to Costa Rica.”

“A hardship I endure for you, dear.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, watching with interest as she began to smooth sunscreen over her legs. “Need help with that?”

Grace ignored him. “You know, I can see why you get all worked into a lather about this vacation business. This is the life.”

“Don’t get used to it. This is the last freebie we’ll be getting for a long while.”

She wasn’t exactly sure how Alex Cassidy had swung it, but following the spectacle at the baseball game, Jake’s boss had not only managed to convince the Costa Rican resort to let Jake return a week later than planned, but also allowed him to bring her along.

It was without a doubt the most decadent vacation she’d ever had, and for a girl who’d vacationed on the French Riviera most spring breaks, that was saying something.

But it wasn’t just the bungalow perched over the water, or the two-person jetted tub, or the daily massages that made it wonderful.

It was Jake.

She rolled onto her side to look at him, resisting the urge to run a hand over his flat stomach just because he was all hers to touch. “Do you regret it? Turning down the travel gig?”

“Depends. You going to put out later?”

In response, she dipped her fingers into her ice water and flicked them over his stomach, earning a muttered oath. “Damn it, woman. Don’t make me regret bringing you.”

“Please. You had nothing to do with it. This was all Cassidy and his handsome magic.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure he only got you the free pass because he thought you’d be making his star columnist happy.”

Grace quickly sat up. “Oh? Is Cole here?”

This time it was her turn to get flicked with ice water.

“So you never answered,” she said minutes later after a halfhearted water fight and a not halfhearted make-out session on his chaise.

“Hmm?” he asked, strumming a hand over her back.

“Do you regret turning down the travel gig? I mean, we are on our private section of a private beach outside a private bungalow, with an honest-to-God butler …”

His fingers toyed with her messy beach hair. “I’d give all of this up a hundred times over again if it meant being with you.”

“You say that now, but—”

Jake tilted her face up to his. “Are you asking if I want to be with you until I’m old, gray, and saggy in interesting places?”

Grace’s heart lurched in her chest. “Well—”

His brown eyes went soft as he searched her face. “I love you, Grace. That won’t change if we’re in a private Tuscan villa or a smelly hovel, or spooning on the couch in my apartment—”

“I think you mean my apartment. Better lighting.”

“Done.”

Grace’s brow furrowed. “What’s done?”

“Me and your apartment. Going steady.”

“You’re moving in?”

His eyes flashed in doubt. “Or not. I could—”

She cut him off with a kiss. “How soon can the movers be at your place?”

Jake grinned in relief. “As soon as we get back, but I should warn you, Grace Brighton, you better treat my body with respect. I’m not your plaything.”

She whispered a lewd suggestion in his ear, and he reconsidered.

“Okay, I will be your plaything, but I’m to be your only plaything …”

Later—much later—Grace sleepily reached for Jake in the big bed, only to find his side empty. Wandering into the living room of the bungalow, she saw Jake on the couch, his face lit by the glow of his laptop. She watched him for several minutes, loving the little line he got between his eyebrows when he was writing.

“What are you working on?” she asked softly.

Wordlessly he patted the seat next to him on the couch, and she curled up beside him. She almost rolled her eyes when she saw the site he was posting to: HeSaidSheSaid.

Then she saw the title of the post he’d just published: “Falling for Grace: A Love Story.” She smiled up at him. “I guess I should write one too.”

He stretched his arms cockily over his head before dropping one over her shoulder. “You can try, but mine will probably be better.”

Grace settled against his shoulder, smiling at his ego. “Is it always going to be like this?”

“What, me being effortlessly good at everything? Probably.”

“No, I mean this. Us. Will things always be this good?”

He shut his laptop and pulled her close. “Nah. This is only the beginning.”