Free The Red Bikini by Lauren Christopher Page A

levels. He inched away and pretended he needed to get something out of his jacket pocket.
    A wrapped mint crinkled against his fingertips—it must have been from Javier’s Cantina down on the beach—probably his last date with Catalina Caesar. He held it across Giselle’s body to Coco, who sat on the other side. She took it and swung her little shoes back and forth under the pew.
    He leaned back and pretended he was listening to the minister. This might have been a terrible idea. He needed to talk to Giselle. Maybe they needed some ground rules.
    “As we all come here together,” the minister continued, “to grieve for Joseph, we allow ourselves to think back to all the joy he’s brought us. . . .”
    Fin surveyed the crowd. A lot of people here. Jennifer’s funeral had brought about this number of mourners, too—all those surfers from around the world. He’d been a pallbearer at the request of her parents, who had regarded him kindly but probably wished he’d never met their daughter:
If only he hadn’t convinced her of her talent. If only he’d been watching her more carefully on that last session
 . . . They probably had a million regrets about him.
    Fin accidentally met Giselle’s eyes, which seemed to carry some kind of apology. God. That look was so sweet it killed him. Sort of like Lia, only Giselle had a wisdom about her that Lia didn’t quite have yet. He knew there was another sister too, but he didn’t know much about her. Giselle was enough of a surprise—her kindness, her humor, her patience with Coco, her curves, her softness. But he knew he’d be doing her a service by getting the hell out of her way as soon as possible. He wasn’t a good person for her to have brought here. She should have brought someone with honor—someone who would impress these people, who were all losing a man who brought a crowd like this to his funeral. She shouldn’t have brought a guy like Fin, who let his life go from bad to worse and didn’t seem to know how to stop the train wreck.
    Fin glanced again at ex-husband-the-doctor and wondered what kind of man he was. Obviously a fool for letting Giselle go, but he must have had some kind of redeeming qualities to have won her over in the first place. And he sure helped create a cute kid. That, in itself, was something to be proud of.
    While he watched, the ex cast another glance over his shoulder. And then Fin saw it.
    Or
her
, actually: the young blonde at ex’s side, who leaned toward the good doctor’s shoulder, whispering something to get him to focus on the sermon.
    Damn
.
    Now he got it.
    He shifted in his seat and blew out a breath.
    Giselle was a scorned wife.
    And left for a younger woman.
    She was bringing him here to get even. She’d said so in the sand—
young enough, hunky enough, pro surfer enough
—but he hadn’t fully understood. But now he did.
    Damn
.
    What was the matter with that guy? He must be some kind of jerk to take off for that young thing there, who probably didn’t have half the grace of Grace Kelly here. And to leave a
daughter
? Who was only five?
    But this was none of his business. He needed to stay removed. She hadn’t invited him here to get involved—she had invited him here to look a certain way and play a certain role.
    The ex turned around again, as Fin figured he would. Although the asshole waited, at least, for an appropriate moment, when the congregation was turning to one another to give peace. Fin leaned forward, just as the good doctor turned, and put his lips against Giselle’s ear.
    “How sexy do you want me to be?” he asked.

CHAPTER
Six
    G iselle froze against the wood of the pew.
    Fin’s breath against her neck was so unexpected, so unprecedented, she couldn’t meet his eyes.
    Goose bumps prickled down her arms. She wasn’t supposed to have goose bumps. She was supposed to have fake feelings, with fake shivers. This was her fake date. She needed to separate her attraction to a man of twenty-eight