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Sawyer regains his voice. “You should take your shirt off.”
“Excuse me?”
“Relax, Miss Mind-in-the-Gutter.” He dangles the bottle of sunblock in front of me. “I need to get the rest of your back.”
“I’m fine like this, thanks.”
“You’re just going into the water fully clothed?”
I nod, like it’s a perfectly normal thing to do.
“Did you bring something to change into?”
“No,” I answer, biting the inside of my cheek. I’d thought I’d be spending the day tanning on a beach, and while I put on more practical clothing in my quick-change before leaving the ship, I didn’t think to change the bikini underneath. No chance I’m baring more skin with Denny’s eyes and Sawyer’s hands nearby.
“So, just to make sure I’m following here. You’re going to sit in there—” he points to the water as it swells onto the beach, “in that.” He gestures toward my tank top and shorts.
“Mhmm.”
He rolls his eyes and drops the sunscreen back into my bag. Then he looks past me, peels his shirt off, and tosses it into the sand with a smile. Sunlight plays with the beads of sweat along his collarbone, and he’s totally showing off.
“What was that about?” I ask. He steps toward me, his expression growing serious and his hands finding my hips. “What are you doing?”
He leans down and presses his forehead to mine.
I’m glad he’s got such a firm grasp on my hips, because otherwise I might disintegrate. I’m hot all over, and my insides are goo, just melty and gross, and for what? Because he’s touching me? No, not touching… holding me. And his eyes are deep like melted chocolate, warm and enticing.
His stupid, ridiculous mouth is inches away from mine, and I wonder what would happen if I angled my chin higher…
“I win.” There’s still a hint of coffee on his breath.
“What?”
“I said, I win.”
I pull my fingertips from his hair—not sure how they got there in the first place—and take a step back.
He reads my confusion and half smiles. “The competition. With Meathead McMuscle. I don’t think he’ll be bothering you anymore.” He releases my hips but takes my hands instead and leads me toward the water’s edge.
We sit side by side in the shallows of the crystalline harbor, our outstretched legs only half covered by the lapping water. Maybe he wants to tan the six-pack I totally did not take notice of, or maybe he wants to save my shirt from getting soaked through, but whatever his reasoning, it’s nice, just sitting together and talking.
Sawyer
I can feel the creep’s eyes on us even now, as the water laps over our legs in gentle undulations. There’s no real way to escape him, since we’re stranded on this beach with him until we’re stranded on a boat with him until we’re back at the port.
She looked so uncomfortable when Denny approached her, and I panicked, I guess, and threw myself in to fend him off. The “baby” probably could have been enough. The kiss may have been overkill, and there probably wasn’t really a need to put my hands on her hips.
But now that I have… Well, I have.
Her hand skims the water’s surface in slow, graceful strokes, and her head is low, eyes glued to the ripples she makes, as we trade travel recommendations. So far, I know she loves New York and Washington, D.C. She’s also a fan of amusement parks and ‘any place with museums.’
“I’d figured you for a secluded-cabin-in-the-woods type.”
She meets my eyes, grimacing. “Like some middle-of-nowhere place with no cell service so I can’t call for help when the ax-murderer in the woods comes to get me? What on earth makes you think that?”
“Who said anything about an ax-murderer? I was thinking more along the lines of cozy cottage, surrounded by a peaceful stream and colorful wildflowers, with a wraparound porch—”
“With a swing?” Her eyes are big and bright, and she’s pulled her legs to her chest, resting her head on her knees.
