“First, I’m going to sketch you.” He lifts a sketch pad and pencil from the basket. “If that’s all right?”
“You want to sketch me?”
Before I give him permission, he’s already putting pencil to paper. “I like to sketch. It’s my way of documenting and capturing my favourite moments or places, like a photographer would with a click of their camera.”
He works the pencil, concentration etched on his features as I pick at the Halloumi. “So this is a favourite moment?”
“I’m enjoying it so far, turtle girl. Are you?”
I smile as I pop an olive into my mouth. “The cheese board is definitely a win for me.”
He silently laughs to himself and continues to sketch. I lean back and enjoy the gentle rocking of the boat and the sun warming my face.
Eventually, he suggests, “How about a swim?”
My spine bristles. “I don’t have my swimming things.”
“It doesn’t matter. There’s nobody here. You can skinny dip.” His lips curl in the corner as if imagining me naked.
I swat his thigh. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”
“I’ll skinny dip too, if it makes you feel better.”
“That won’t be necessary. Nobody is skinny dipping. Least of all me.” I look around the boat. “How would I even get back on the boat?”
“There’s a ladder at the back.” He points to the stern. “Just swim in your underwear. It won’t take long to dry off in this heat.”
“Is this your big plan to get me to shed my clothes?” I raise an eyebrow over my champagne glass.
“Is it working?” He unbuttons his shirt, revealing the ink that I love.
“Nope.” I sip on my drink, enjoying the striptease in front of me.
Finn stands and unbuttons his pants. Black boxer briefs cling to his muscular thighs. Kicking his shoes off, he strides to the edge of the boat. “Suit yourself.” He dives into the water, creating a splash that sprays my arm.
He floats on his back. “The water’s a perfect temperature. You’re missing out, Shell.”
With the olives in hand, I sit on the boat’s edge, feet dangling over the ladder opening. “I’m all right here.”
Finn grabs a rung on the ladder, pulling himself up. I squeal as the boat tilts. “We’re going to capsize. What are you doing?”
He grabs an olive from the tub with a chuckle. “Well, that’s one way to get you wet.”
He doesn’t know I’m already wet from looking at him, and with him so close, dripping water onto my clothes, I’m burning up.
“I’ll turn around until you’re in the water if you don’t want me to see your underwear.”
“Fine.” I lean back to toss the empty olive tub into the picnic box. “Turn around.”
He lets go of the ladder and swims away from the boat. I lift my dress over my head and fold it on the seat. My nipples pebble under my white cotton bra and I know this is a bad idea, but the pulsing between my thighs tells me otherwise. And I desperately need to cool off.
Shuffling my bottom to the edge, I push myself off theledge and drop into the water with a splash. My head bobs under, but when I come to the surface, Finn’s there before me. I swipe the hair from my face and pat myself on the back for wearing waterproof mascara. On the one day I wear makeup, I needn’t have bothered.
We both tread water, our heads bobbing above the surface, but the cool sea does nothing to tamp down the heat running through my veins.
“Are you playing footsie?” He chuckles.
“I’m not touching you.”
