“Sharks.”
William banked the smile that tugged at his mouth. He gestured to the window. “Not too many sharks in a freshwater lake.”
“I don’t swim.” She shook her head, her hair tumbling in a wave over her shoulders. “Not my thing.”
“Because of sharks?” His fingertips prickled with the desire to run through her hair.
“Originally, yeah.”
“More, Luce,” he said.
Her eyes warmed, and her mouth went slack. He had noted she did that whenever he called her Luce.
That was better than the frown.
“I lived by the ocean growing up. Lots of sharks. They scared me, so I never learned to swim.” She shrugged.
Since that first day at the truck stop, this was possibly the most she had ever shared with him.
“You lived by the ocean?” He dropped to the bed and propped himself up on an elbow.
“Uh…yup.” She started unpacking the remnants of her bag into one of the dresser drawers, and her shirt lifted just enough to expose the small of her back as she bent over.
His gaze lingered. “Your parents didn’t teach you to swim even with a giant body of water right outside the door?” Living next to the ocean and not learning to swim was ludicrous—like being from Colorado and never going skiing. Sacrilege.
“Nope.” She rubbed her hands together.
“I’ll teach you to swim.” He leaned toward her. “At the lake. It’ll be fun.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Sharks.”
William grinned. God, she was adorable.
“We need food. I haven’t eaten in hours.” She obviously angled to change the subject.
“Right, I forgot.” He removed the spa voucher from his wallet and handed it to her.
She glanced at it. “What’s this?”
“Spa voucher. Compliments of the resort for making us move. I’m not into pedicures, and I figured you’d enjoy it.”
“I say, ‘I need food’ and you hand me a coupon for a pedicure?” She studied the slip of paper.
“They also comped our meals while we’re here, so we can head to dinner whenever. Or they said they’d deliver something tonight if we want since it was their screw up.”
“I need food,” she said again.
“You want to order?” He snagged a menu from the nightstand.
“I hoped if I said it again, you might pull a manicure from your wallet next.” She grinned now, and if he didn’t know better, he’d say she was flirting. Damn, she had a killer smile when she used it—which wasn’t often enough.
“You’re cute.” He tossed her the menu.
She caught it in one hand.
