“Necessary? Hopefully not. Enjoyable? Absolutely, yes.”
“It’s not necessary. Consider me charmed.” She winks and it’s all I can do not to bend down and kiss her right then and there.
“Have dinner with me tonight.” I hadn’t planned on asking again. Not yet, at least, but between the dance last night and the flirting right now, I can’t help myself. Instead of shaking her head in an immediate refusal, Willow’s face relaxes into a beautiful smile.
“I’d love to.”
My answering grin is massive, I realize, butfucking finally. “I’ll make a reservation for seven. Do you have plans for today?”
She nods. “Very important ones.”
“Well, don’t let me keep you from them.” I stifle my disappointment. But it’s probably for the best. Eddie said everyone is meeting up for lunch before most of the guests head home today. I leave Willow in the bedroom and head out into the main living area to check my phone and see if he’s sent any more details. Not that I expect the man to be awake, even if it’s now close to 10 am. He did just get married, after all.
Sure enough, there’s nothing on my phone except a text from my mom with a photo attached. I open it up, and my heart melts. There’s my girl, riding her bike with Gran. There’s nothing that kid likes more than the feeling of going fast. Whether she’s running, or riding her bike, she loves speed. It’s why I call her Rocket.
“Do I want to know what you’re looking at that has you smiling like that?”
I turn at the sound of Willow’s voice, and suddenly I’m smiling for averydifferent reason. The white bikini she’s wearing leaves little to the imagination, even with the sheer cover-up she’s got on. “Damn, woman. Need me to do your sunscreen again?” I waggle my eyebrows so she knows I’m not trying to be a creep, and she laughs.
“Thanks for the offer. I don’t plan on being in the sun; there’s a beach umbrella with my name on it waiting poolside.” She lifts her bag and pats the side of it. “I’m going to read and relax.”
“That’s your very important plan?” I tease.
“Absolutely, it is.” She nods.
My phone chimes with an incoming message, this time from the groom. Lifting it to wave at her, I say, “Well, enjoy. I’ve got lunch with the newlyweds, and then a round of golf with my other buddy. I’ll see you later for dinner?”
Maybe my mind is playing tricks on me again, but I swear I see disappointment cross her face. But she schools her expression quickly enough to make me wonder if that’s just my hopefulness seeing things.
“See you later,” she replies softly, looking at me for another second before whirling away in a cloud of floral and citrus. I watch her go, the filmy fabric of her cover-up hiding none of her alluring curves.
Fucking hell, do I ever want that woman. And tonight, maybe, I’ll finally get my chance.
Chapter seven
Willow
By the time I get out of the shower after a lovely afternoon poolside, I’ve had plenty of time to question my sanity.
Flirting with a baseball player is bad enough.
Sharing his fucking hotel suite?
Definitely skirting the lines of mydon’t date a playerrule.
Then again, I’m coming around to the idea of suspending that rule, just this once…with just this man. After all, it’s not exactly breaking it if we don’t date, just fuck, is it? I came here wanting a holiday hottie, and maybe Ronan is just the man for the job. Some hot vacation sex, then we go our separate ways to opposite ends of the country.
Opening the door of the bathroom, wrapped only in a towel with my hair dripping down my back, I come to an abrupt halt at the sight of Ronan standing at the dresser, obviously in the middle of getting his clothes.
“Sorry,” I blurt out, my cheeks turning pink. His eyes do a slow perusal of my body, but not in a lecherous way; more one of pure appreciation.
“Good shower?” he asks in a low, suggestive rumble.
“Yes,” I manage to rasp out before straightening my spine and slipping past him. I feel his gaze follow me, and it’s as if I’m wearing nothing at all. I go straight to my open suitcase that I had lifted onto the bed and pull out a purple bra and panty set, tucking them in close to my body as we stand there eyeing each other. My pulse starts to speed up, the heat from my shower, building.
His gaze on me is hungry. Predatory, even, and I shiver. There’s an obvious bulge beneath his shorts, but he makes no move toward me, his restraint both admirable and annoying.
“Are you done in the bathroom?” he asks, his voice gravelly.
