They’d nearly kissed last night. The recollection struck unbidden, pushing Heath’s attention from Evan’s eyes to his mouth.
“Eyes are up here, honey,” those lips said, tongue darting out to wet them.
Dragging his gaze upward required more effort than any kayaking, but his reward was long, sun-lightened lashes and irises a deep, mossy green swirled through with golden brown.
“I’m gonna let you two work this out. I’ll meet you at the launch.”
Heath felt Isabella’s weight shift and disappear, but the magnetic pull of hishusbandheld him in sway.
He’d almost gotten a taste of that mouth. Why in God’s name had he stopped it?
“Were you really going to kiss me last night?” he heard himself ask, and though he’d been sitting in the shade the entire afternoon, such brazenness must surely be a sign of heatstroke.
Evan looked away. “Um, yeah. I figured we needed to play into it, y’know?”
Evan had absolutely had too much sun, given the shade of pink dusting his shoulders, but Heath still swore the man was blushing.
“Don’t feel like you’re obligated to do anything against your will just because of—” he gestured between them “—this.”
“Right. Noted. Thanks.” He stood quickly and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “You joining us?”
It was on the tip of his tongue to say no and continue being a stick-in-the-sand, but Evan’s expression was so close to hopeful that he agreed.
Evan’s smile turned pleased, and he grasped the hand Heath held out and yanked him to his feet as though he weighed nothing at all. It was startling and impressive, and put them both toe-to-toe and damn near nose-to-nose.
Heath could smell the coconut of Evan’s lotion radiating from his sun-warmed skin, and he had a craving for another boozeless pina colada, which he’d confirmed were absolutely delicious. Or maybe what he was craving was the salty sweetness of Evan’s skin on his tongue, and the flex of those biceps beneath his palms.
“Not so shy today?” Penelope chuckled as she traipsed past on the way to the cabana.
The tension faded but didn’t disappear. Heath could feel it crackling as they put a little distance between them. Room for the Holy Ghost, his Gramma would have said. Though even she might excuse the public display for a shot at Evan Westin.
“I’m gonna…” He averted his eyes and gestured toward the shed where they stored the equipment. “You want your own, or…?”
“Oh, um, yes. I could use the exercise.”
“You look plenty fit to me.”
“Uh… thank you.”
Evan gave him a brusque nod, then turned on his heel and jogged over to Isabella, who had a small kayak balanced on her head. Heath remained in place, a little dumbfounded and still sizzling.
What the hell was that? Had they just…? No, it was definitely heatstroke.
He downed a full bottle of water before grabbing his ownvessel and dunking himself in the crystal clear water at the launch point. Whatever steps were necessary to bring his brain back from the broil setting.
Isabella coasted next to him with mischief dancing behind the tint of her oversized sunglasses. “Wanna race?”
“Oh, I don’t?—”
Evan cruised by, splashing them both with his oar. “Snooze ya lose, pookie!”
Heath sat there in the wake, droplets clinging to his lashes. Was he snoozing? That would certainly explain things.
With a cackle, Isabella took off, splashing him a second time. Nope, it was too salty to be dreaming.
He dug the oar into the water and felt a shiver of something suspiciously like joy charge through him as the kayak took off at his command. He was pretty fit, and pleased Evan had noticed, but he was also a terrible loser.
He hoped his cohorts were ready to get smoked.
