She gave a little bow. “I’m here all week.” When she realized what she’d said, she grimaced. “Wait. I take it back.” She looked around as if trying to placate whatever higher power might be listening. “I reallydon’twant to be here all week.”
“If you’re coming, then come on.” He waved his arm, welcoming her to precede him up the beach. The sooner they got started, the sooner they could stop and she would go do something else,anythingelse, but continue to stand next to him and...tempthim. “We’re burning daylight.”
“Gimme a sec.” She balanced on one foot and then the other to pull off her wedge sandals. After dropping them into the bottom of the life raft, she shrugged her purse from her shoulder and let it fall beside her discarded shoes. Next went her linen suit jacket. It landed on top of her purse in a flutter. Finally, she bent to roll up the legs of her slacks.
Looking far more fit for the role of castaway, she straightened and blew out a satisfied breath. By contrast, he suddenlycouldn’tbreathe, because her blouse was still a little damp and it clung to the round swells of her breasts.
If he looked closely, which you better believe he did, he couldjustmake out the shape of her nipples through the cups of her bra. They were a little bigger than half-dollar size, and the centers poked up like pencil erasers.
“That’s much better,” she declared, unaware that she waskilling him.She pointed in the direction he’d gestured and asked, “This way?”
“Don’t reckon it actually matters,” he wheezed. “Seeing as how we’ll be doing a circle either way. Lady’s choice.”
He wasn’t sure if she had a reason for choosing the opposite direction from the one he’d suggested, or if she simply did it to be contrary.
Probably the latter, he decided. And why that should make him want to smile, he had no idea. He fashioned a frown onto his face instead and fell into step beside her.
They’d made it maybe twenty yards down the beach when she turned to him and grimaced. “I really stuck my foot in it with Mia and Romeo, huh? Read that situationwaywrong.”
Before he could respond, she lifted an imperious finger. “Although I stand by my initial assumption that she’s interested in more than friendship with him. The way she looks at him is like he dropped out of the sky. So which is it? Does she think he’s an angel or Superman?”
Doc snorted. “It’s probably a little of both. I mean, you’ve seen the guy, right? I think fallen angel meets superhero pretty much sums him up. All he’s missing is the halo and the cape.”
“Oh, I’ve seen him.” When she nodded, it caused her fallen bun to smack against the side of her face. Frowning, she pulled out the elastic holding the bun in place, and her long hair unraveled like a rope of black silk until it hung down her back in a wavy curtain.
He had the oddest urge to run his fingers through it. It looked so soft and shiny and cool. He shoved his hand deep inside his wet pocket instead.
“He’s beautiful. I’ll grant you that.” She inclined her head. “But not all womenlikea man who’s prettier than they are.”
“Not something you ever have to worry about,” he assured her.
The look she shot him was sharp. “Meaning what?”
“Meaning there’s not a man on the planet prettier than you are.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. And when her jaw slung open and she blinked at him, he wished he could suck them back in.
“Was that...” She shook her head. “Did you just give me a compliment?”
“Why are you acting so surprised? If I remember correctly, I complimented you plenty last night.”
“Sure.” She nodded. “When you were wearing beer goggles the size of party platters. Today you’ve given me nothing but grief.”
“Not true,” he argued. “I told you it’d be a crying shame if you only weighed ninety pounds. That might be the nicest thing I’ve ever said to anyone.”
She snorted. “Boy, do I feel sorry for the women in your life if that’s the case. And since we’re on the subject, you’re right. One minute you’re insulting me, and the next you’re trying to convince me to sleep with you so you can make up for last night. Your seduction technique is bipolar. Has anyone ever told you that?”
He chuckled and shook his head. “You’d be the first.” Then, figuring it was as good a time as any, he added, “And since you brought up last night, I really do feel like a shitheel for the way I acted. My only excuse is...” He stopped and ran a hand through his hair. The wind had dried it into a riot of crunchy tufts around his head. “Well, I guess I don’t really have an excuse,” he finally finished.
“Sure you do,” she countered. “I know a man in mourning when I see one.”
He blinked at her. Stunned that she’d so accurately homed in on the crux of the matter.
“You want to talk about it?” she asked softly.
“Lord no. Hard pass.” The words were out of his mouth before the thought behind them even had time to fully form. It wasn’t his brain that answered, it was his gut. And maybe his heart too.
“That’s what I figured.” She nodded.
Other women would have pressed him. Half of him expectedCamito press him—thirty-eight years of life had taught him many things, but one of those was that the female of the species wasn’t satisfied unless everyone was baring their souls. But she kept her lips sealed. And after a few seconds, he realized they were going to stay that way.
