Bran had seen Ireland dressed in beautiful clothes with her large breasts dragging his gaze down. He’d always stuck with the rule of not dating overly sexual women due to his weakness where they were concerned. But Ireland wasn’t trying to be sexy, she just was. Her bikini peeked through a buttoned-down top. And she was killing him.
For the last thirty minutes, he’d managed to keep her distracted by driving the boat along a few hot spots on the lake, going just slowly enough for her to get a view from the stern. As long as they stayed apart, things would be fine. But if he was doing his job, he’d need to stop at Emerald Bay and offer her snacks, more liquor, and the opportunity to swim.
Which meant potential removal of clothing and more flesh he didn’t need tempting him.
Bran dragged out the stop at Emerald Bay as long as he dared, then finally slowed at a pristine location near the island in the center of the bay.
He killed the engine and white-knuckled the wheel.
“Everything okay?” Ireland called.
Bran loosened his grip and stood. “Thought you might like a snack and a swim.”
“Oh.” Her voice was closer now.
He glanced back and caught Ireland duck beneath the opening to the cabin.
“I’m up for food.” She held up her empty beer. “And another one of these.”
Ireland walked forward at the same time Bran moved toward the cooler. The proximity was tight. But what really did him in was the large wake that caught the boat.
Bran placed his hand on the ceiling for support. Ireland, on the other hand, held Bran for support.
Her lush body pressed against his as she scrambled to find her balance. Meanwhile, Bran gritted his teeth.
Stupid wake.
Anyone could have lost their balance with a bump like that, but she took things too far. Too far, if he had any hope of maintaining his control. Her face was practically pressed to his neck. “Do you mind?”
Ireland lurched back and grabbed the seat opposite, weathering the smaller waves that came after the larger one. “I’m so sorry.”
Bran strode to the cooler and grabbed her a beer and—fuck it—one for himself. His brothers would kill him for drinking and boating. That rule had been ingrained in their heads when they were teenagers. But if there was ever a time when Bran needed a beer, it was now.
He popped the top off the first bottle and handed it to her. “Take a swim. You look like you need to cool off.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He shrugged. “You look a little hot and bothered.” Bran popped the top of his beer and took a massive gulp, eyeing her. More likehewas hot and bothered.
“Excuse me? You-you…” She let out a harsh sigh and breathed in through her nose, closing her eyes. “Are you suggesting I grabbed you on purpose?”
“Didn’t you?”
Her face flushed. “I lost my balance! Why are you so mean to me?”
“You’re mistaking my normal disposition for me caring about you.”
He strode past her toward the outboard. To get some air. And space. He could still feel her body against his, and it was stirring shit that needed to remain on lockdown.
He heard her stomp behind him in her bare feet. Pretty feet, with toes painted in red toenail polish. Not that he’d noticed.
Fuck.He’d noticed. Her feet were cute for a woman as tall as she was.
She’d told him her height and weight earlier as though it were a bad thing. What she didn’t know was that without the rules he lived by, she’d be his physical female ideal.
Pretty he could manage. But beautiful and sexy? No. Not happening.
“You-you…” She took another breath, and he glanced back.
