Mason glanced at me with a perplexed expression. “Uh. I can’t remember. I know that’s rude, but I couldn’t help it. I had to get out of there. Lennox is terrible at matchmaking.”
“Umm,” I mused. “What number is this?”
“Too many. I’d rather hang out with you any day.”
I smirked but kept my eyes on the road. He hummed along to the song on the radio. It was selfish to enjoy every failed encounter. But he ended up with me, either getting food, watching a ballgame, or just talking. But what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, and I was trained to keep my mouth shut.
Present Day
“Let’s go, slowpoke. Show me those NFL skills.”
Mason barked a laugh as I kicked up sand in a burst of speed on the sand in Coronado. I’d been saving it for the end of our run. He might have an age advantage, but I had the edgeof surprise and a sudden burst of energy. It was only a matter of time before he would overtake me, but I didn’t care. He was built more like a tight end than a lineman, so catching me was inevitable.
When he ran by me, then turned to run backward, I grinned. “Show off.” His infectious smile sent an electrical charge through my body. I found myself wanting more of that from him.
Reaching out, I put my hands on his shoulders to hurry him along, but all I managed to do was send us both to the sand, with me on top of him. Mason huffed another laugh as he held onto my arms. My eyes caught on his, sending a warm feeling through my body.
“If you wanted to wrestle, Agent Kingsley, all you had to do was ask,” he teased. “But I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”
“You wish,” I laughed, then rolled onto my back, gasping for air. My arm brushed his as we both sat up, the sensation heightened by the sand that clung to our sweat-covered bodies.
“You know what we should do?” he asked.
I turned to look at his profile as he gazed out at the water. His hair was damp along his hairline, but I was distracted by the droplet of sweat that trickled down his corded neck. I watched it disappear under the neck of his T-shirt, turning the single spot on the light gray shirt dark. It was fine until he looked over at me and grinned.
“What are you doing?” he singsonged like he caught me doing something inappropriate.
I snorted and looked at that water. “Nothing. I thought you had a sand fly on your neck.” Lie. Big lie. “I should have smacked it.”
I could detect his grin without looking at him. So, I looked further down the beach where the SEAL recruits were starting to gather. “You didn’t answer my question, Agent Kingsley.”
“What question?” I stalled.
“I asked if you knew what we should do. You never answered because you were busy staring at my muscular Adonis neck.”
I snorted. He was right. “Was not.”
“Whatever. Answer the question.”
I turned to glare at him. “What do you want from me?”
He grinned. “I want you to go swimming with me.”
My face scrunched in confusion. “What? Why would we do that?”
He looked pointedly down at his arm. “Because you threw me down in the sand, and I have it all over me now. It’s quite uncomfortable.”
My eyes trailed down to the sand that coated his arms. Reaching out, I brushed it off. “You’re getting a fancy spa treatment here. For free. I’m extrapolating your skin as we speak. You should be thanking me.”
“Ex what?” Mason asked, grinning at me.
“You know,” I brushed harder. “When you take all the dead skin cells off.”
I was completely aware I’d used the wrong word, and my friend took great delight in pointing it out. “I think the word you’re looking for is exfoliate.”
I grunted. “Whatever.”
Mason jumped to his feet and stripped his shirt over his head before tossing it on the sand. I rolled my eyes when he started to make a production out of undressing in front of me. “Come on, Agent Kingsley,” he said, sucking in his stomach and puffing out his chest. “We can pretend you’re drowning, and I’ll save you like they do on Baywatch.”
