Page 25 of Trust Fund Baby

I reached the bottom step just as she disappeared through the sliding glass doors. Sunlight hit her as she stepped outside, catching the highlights in her hair, the smooth line of her back beneath the gauzy fabric. She was doing everything she could not to notice me. Which, ironically, only made me more aware of her.

James’s voice snapped me out of it.

“Seb, do you want to go into town with us to the store?”

I glanced at him, pretending for a moment to consider his offer even though I already knew exactly where I was going.

Go buy groceries with two people who definitely didn’t want a third wheel tagging along? Or stretch out beside Roxie, needle her just enough to get a rise out of her and get to admire her curves that had only grown more beautiful with time?

Was that even a question?

I gave a small nod. “I think I’m going to catch some sun,” I said, casually enough. “I’ve been stuck in the office for too long.”

James narrowed his eyes, seeing right through me. “When was the last time you actually went into the office?”

But I was already moving toward the door, sunglasses sliding into place, not bothering to answer.

I didn’t care if he believed me.

The only thing I cared about was the woman currently laying out her towel poolside like she owned the whole damn world and whether I could get her to let me back in.

Because something told me this weekend, she just might.

10

Roxie

The sun was too bright, the chaise was too hot, and Sebastian Whittaker was way too close.

I flipped the page of my book even though I hadn’t absorbed a single word. My sunglasses shielded my eyes, thankfully, because they kept drifting to the lounger beside me. Where he was basking in the sun like he didn’t have a care in the world.

He’d ditched the suit, but of course he hadn’t ditched the ego. Linen shorts. Half-buttoned shirt. Tan skin and tattoos on full display. I now had an answer to the question I’d wondered about when I’d seen his tattoos in McGuire’s. They started at his elbows and climbed all the way down his arms to the backs of his hands. They were hot, and I hated to admit that. He looked unfairly relaxed, reclined just far enough to show off a few inches of abs, a smirk playing at his mouth like he knew I was looking at them.

And maybe he did.

I couldn’t tell where he was looking behind those stupid sunglasses.

I adjusted my own and shifted further away on my chair, dragging my towel with me like a barrier. He didn’t say anything. Just reached for his water bottle, unscrewed the cap, and took a slow drink. I watched the way his throat bobbed up and down as my own mouth grew dry.

This is so stupid.

“Don’t you have somewhere better to be?” I asked flatly, turning away like I hadn’t been admiring the way he’d been drinking his water.

“Are you offering suggestions?” His voice was a lazy drawl laced with cockiness. It set my blood on fire.

“Literally anywhere but next to me would be a start.”

He chuckled. Chuckled.

The absolute audacity.

I flipped another page.

“Are you always this pleasant when you’re on vacation?” he asked after a beat.

I didn’t answer.

The tension stretched between us like a tightrope. If I moved too fast, I’d fall off. If I stayed too still, he’d win. And I couldn’t have either option.