He leaned close to her, so close their noses were almost touching. Fire and challenge burned in her eyes, but something else simmered there too. Something he wasn’t sure he had the right to examine too closely. Not when this was their last weekend together before he left.
Her breathing increased, her cheeks flushing under his appraisal. Fuck, all he wanted to do was reach up, cup her face, and press his lips to hers. He wanted to taste her again—had wanted to for so long. It’d been years since he’d last had his mouth on hers, and it’d felt likedecades. If he got another taste of her now, he had no idea how he’d actually force himself to leave.
Needing to right this ship before it crashed, he answered her question instead of doing what he desperately wanted. “You’re right. Is it workin’?” he whispered.
She blinked, and, just like that, the spell was broken. Shoving him in the chest, she rolled out of the hammock, giving it the perfect amount of momentum so he tipped backward and crashed to the ground. “Hopethatworked for getting your overinflated, sumo-sized ego under control.”
He lay there for a minute, chuckling under his breath, as she gathered up their gear.
“Hey, Mr. Sore Loser. You gonna get up anytime soon, or should I go on without you?”
“Gimme a minute, would ya? You just landed me on my ass.” Once on his feet, he strode up next to her and took the cooler, bag, and tackle box from her hands, ignoring her sounds of protest. “Before you give me any shitty attitude about that, I’d just like to remind you that this isn’t me saying youcan’tcarry these things. It’s me being a goddamn gentleman, so just let me.”
She stared at him for a moment before snapping her mouth shut and shaking her head. A smile tipped up the corner of her mouth as she bumped her hip into his. “I think when you’re trying to be a gentleman, you probably shouldn’t swear so much.”
He chuckled. “Well, shit. There’s no hope for me, then.”
She transferred the fishing rods to her opposite hand, then wrapped her other arm around him and nestled into his side. A grin split her face as she looked up at him. “That’s all right. I like you ungentlemanly, too.”
He wasn’t so sure she’d feel that way if she knew exactly how ungentlemanly his thoughts were while in her presence—and exactly how ungentlemanly he wanted to get with her.
For as long as he could remember, Kenna had been coming with him to the cabin, which meant words weren’t necessary as they readied to depart the dock. When they’d been younger, she’d tagged along with his family. As the two of them had gotten older, they’d snuck out there on their own. They probably hadn’t needed to sneak, because usually all they did was fish or swim or laze head-to-toe on the hammock and relax.
Usually.
Except for the time two summers ago when they’d come here to lose their virginities. Yeah, Daddy Haven probably wouldn’t appreciate that very much.
“Since you’re bein’ an ass about me winnin’, I guess that means no bets on how many fish we catch.” Kenna reclined back on her hands in the boat as he motored them toward their favorite fishing spot.
“Aw, c’mon now. Don’t ruin all our fun.” He shot her a smile as he killed the gas to the engine and let them come to a stop in the hidden alcove they’d found years ago. “Tell the truth—you just don’t wanna lose again.”
She bolted upright, and he tried his hardest to ignore the way her breasts bounced with the movement. “Again?” She gripped the sides of the boat and leaned forward until they were nose-to-nose—and he couldn’t lie…this was nearly as hot as it’d been on the hammock. “I can beat you in anything you throw at me, and you know it.”
“If you say so… I just figured you cuttin’ off the bet before it could even start was ’cause you were scared.”
“Scared? Ha! State your terms.”
He almost laughed at that but held it in. Barely. “All right. Bet takes place for two hours startin’ when the first person casts. Whoever has the most fish when time’s called wins.”
“And what’re the stakes?”
Hudson shrugged. “I’ll let you pick your own punishment.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, her jaw tightening. And then she brightened as a smug smile swept over her lips. “Loser kisses all the winner’s fish.”
He tugged on her ponytail before reaching for his fishing rod. “You’re on.”
“Don’t you dare cast that line. I still need you to put sunscreen on my back, and if you want me to do the same, I suggest you do it now. Because I won’t hesitate to watch you turn into a lobster while the bet is runnin’.”
Just listening to her challenge him already had him half hard in his swim trunks. The minute he put his hands on her, he’d be at full salute in about thirty seconds flat. Thankfully, he’d gotten damn good at hiding his dick’s reactions to her over the years. Either that, or she’d gotten damn good at ignoring them.
She tossed him the sunscreen, then turned and presented him her back, already golden and sun-kissed from spending her summer days outside. She pulled her ponytail around front and bowed her head, waiting for him to do as she’d asked.
Once he had his hands full of sunscreen, he rubbed them together before pressing them against the small of her back. And then he just…rested them there. She’d arched her back at the first touch but gradually relaxed into his palms. He’d done this before—a thousand times, no doubt—and hadn’t thought much about it. Had always done it on autopilot, more concerned about hiding his body’s response to her than paying attention to who he was touching and how he was touching her.
He was paying attention now.
“It doesn’t work unless you rub it in.” Kenna’s voice had a breathy quality he hadn’t heard…maybe ever.
