“How?”
“He gets super focused when he’s close to figuring something out. We can assume he’s got something if he’s not answering. As soon as he gets it all sorted, he’ll call. Until then, we are wide open to all the possibilities that Miami has to offer. Which, obviously, needs to involve a walk on the beach. But we didn’t get a chance to wash our bathing suits, so, I have a surprise for you waiting up in your room.”
“You need to stop buying me things,” I insisted, even as my heart tripped faster and I pulled my legs out of the pool to go investigate.
“That’s not gonna happen,” he said. “But you can repay me with a fashion show, if you want.”
“Well, I can’t deny such a small request, now can I?”
I didn’t realize the fashion show would involve four separate designer swimsuits, matching cover-ups, sandals, and a new pair of sunglasses.
“Oh, I think that’s the one,” he said when I walked out in a black one-piece with white trim and straps. I didn’t know what kind of magic was sewn into the bra portion, but the girls were high and proud.
“At least this one isn’t a thong.”
“I maintain that there was absolutely nothing wrong with the thong. In fact, there was a lot right about it.”
Admittedly, I’d only put it on to show him. Despite my earlier decision to stop that foolishness. I wouldn’t wear a thong bikini bottom out in public. Not because there was anything wrong with them, per se. But, I had an ass. And I didn’t need every Tom, Dick, and Harry noticing it. But Raff? Raff had earned a little sneak peek of it.
“This is all too much,” I told him as I pulled on some shorts and the cover-up that matched the suit.
“Nope. It was just the right amount. Now, beach?”
He’d changed into an absurd set of trunks featuring rubber duckies in bathing suits and a white ribbed tank top that reminded me that while he was on the thinner side, he still had some great arms.
I’d never been a fan of tattoos. But I couldn’t seem to stop looking at his. Some were gorgeous pieces of work. Some were absurd… like a slice of pepperoni pizza on his ankle.
“Yes, beach.” I emptied the essentials into the new slouchy crochet beach purse that had also been with the clothes.
“You know, I’m probably going to need you to slather sunscreen on my back,” he said as we crossed the backyard of the beach house toward the sand. He shot me a devilish look.
“You have a shirt on.”
In one swift motion, the shirt was off and tossed back toward the beach house property.
“No, I don’t.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“You love it.”
The scary thing?
I think a part of me might have been starting to.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Raff
Had some part of me (namely my dick) been pissed with me ever since rolling off that bed? Yep. But I was convinced it was the smartest decision. Even if every bit of me was dying to just be alone with her again, I’d made it a point to fill our time outside of the car with experiences. And, perhaps more importantly, audiences. So I would keep my damn hands to myself.
Especially because, more and more, I caught her looking at me when she thought I couldn’t see. Sometimes, it was with a curious, confused sort of look. But just as often, it was something else—deeper, and maybe a little intrigued.
The part of me that was worried about getting my hopes up tried to remind me that it could be nothing.
But the part of me that had been watching Lula for years knew what I was seeing. Interest. Attraction.
Which was why I was cutting off any chance of intimacy.
