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Kenna wrenched the passenger side door open and I felt like an asshole for not assisting her up like I’d been doing every damn day since she’d come to town. But I knew if I touched her, I’d pull her into me and there would be absolutely nothing I could say to myself to stop me from kissing her this time.
“I made cookies last night.” She put a cookie tin on the console between our seats, shooting me a happy grin. “Justin never let me make cookies. Said it wasn’t good for my waistline.”
My jaw clenched harder than a gator’s when they found a small animal on the banks of the water not paying attention. “We could fly out there and inflict pain on that asshole, you know.”
Kenna laughed. “We should. Those papers he sent the other day were the first negotiation lobbed over. He wants the house, both cars, and all the furniture except my grandmother’s antique chair. Seems equal, right?”
I turned the truck on and backed out of the driveway, happy to latch on to a feeling other than total lust. Kenna’s ex-husband sounded less like a piece of work these days and more like a psycho villain from a movie. “We could knife all four of his tires.”
Kenna nodded enthusiastically. “We could put hair removal cream in his shampoo. He has a total pinhead and would make a hideous-looking bald guy.”
That made my lips twitch into the first smile of the day. “Let me guess, he has Italian loafers?”
“Of course he does. Only the best for Mr. President.”
I grimaced. “He’s a politician?”
Her head tipped back and the sound of her laughter made today a thousand times better. “No! Can you imagine? No, he was president of his fraternity in college.”
“How many polo shirts did he own?” I could just imagine his type.
Kenna shot me a look. “Let’s put it this way. He took the bigger of the two closets in the primary bedroom of our condo.”
“Total loser,” I grumbled.
“Agreed.”
We stayed in happy silence all the way to the marina where Harley was already on the Afishinado, getting everything ready for a day at sea. Carl was on the dock, being more of a nuisance than a help. This time I helped Kenna out of the truck, careful to keep my gaze averted and my touch brief.
“Who’s the hottie?” Sam called from the concrete picnic bench.
I rolled my eyes, assuming Kenna was about to unload a barrage of scathing remarks on the old man. Instead, she jutted her hip out to the side and gave him a sexy, playful pose. My gaze instantly dropped to her ass in those shorts, seeing the crease where each cheek met the top of her thighs.
“Hurry up, loser!” Harley shouted from the boat, startling me.
I quickly averted my gaze and grabbed the cooler out of the back of the truck. Harley helped Kenna board the boat and I took the line from Carl once I placed the cooler behind the captain’s chair.
“Don’t let the gators get ya!” Sam shouted as we backed away from the dock.
Kenna snapped her startled eyes in my direction, but I shook my head. “He’s joking. Those are the gator boys, Sunshine Key’s troublemakers.”
She slumped back against the seat and strapped on her hat. “Thank God. I think I might freak out the first time I see one.”
“Don’t worry, Kenna,” Harley said over the sound of the motors, leaning across the aisle and getting far too close to Kenna. “We’re just going to tour a few keys and maybe throw a couple lines in and see what’s biting. You ever fish from a boat before?”
Kenna’s laugh rang out. “Not only have I not fished from a boat, I’ve never fished!”
Harley, laughing with her, reached over and put his hand on her arm. Not quite out of the wake zone, I shoved the throttle down and banked right, throwing Harley back in his seat with a thud that made me smile. Of course, Kenna almost slid right off her seat, but I was ready for her, reaching across and putting a steadying hand on her hip. As I straightened out, she shot me a thankful look. I swiveled my head the other direction and sent a death glare to Harley. The fucker just burst out laughing.
The tour of the keys went well. Harley kept his hands to himself and we were able to show Kenna all the good areas for fishing and sunbathing, depending on what one liked to do out on the keys. I had to remind her to put on sunscreen again when her shoulders started to get pink. By the time we ended the tour at our favorite honey hole, Harley had Kenna agreeing to thread a worm on her hook.
I let him show her how to get her hook ready and even how to toss the line into the water. But when he didn’t move away afterward, just stayed hovering around her while her line floated, I stepped up and tossed my head at him.
“Get your own line going, jackass.”
Harley smirked at me over Kenna’s head, knowing exactly what had gotten under my skin. Kenna looked up at me from below that wide-brim hat, a soft smile on her face. She hadn’t bothered with makeup today and she looked years younger with the hint of freckles dotting the bridge of her nose.
“I just thought of something. If I catch a fish, do I have to eat it?”
