That voice drifted over me, twisting and sliding around my limbs until it began to settle somewhere low in my belly. It was molten steel laced with a sweet, almost honeyed tone that I could practically taste. It was deep and light at the same time, the words catching on a soft purr.
My heart raced and I was finding it hard to breathe. I paused, considered running away for a brief moment, then turned back toward the tall man with the pink hair.
He was standing now.
I wished he’d stayed seated because he was even more breathtaking at his full height.
“Oh, you’re perfect. Think you could help a girl out, gorgeous?”
I…what? “Huh?”
He prowled closer, those dark blue eyes boring into mine. A small smile played on his lips. “Where'd you come from?"
Why was he talking to me? Was it because I was staring? Was he upset? I should apologize for being so rude, shouldn’t I? God, I’d only been here for thirty minutes and I was already messing it up.
“I… Th-the airport..." I stumbled over my words as my ears burned. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t averting my gaze. His eyes held mine so intensely I couldn’t even blink. “Um, I’m sorry, I—I wasn’t…trying?—”
He laughed and made some kind of sound of delight. "Oh, I like you. I meant where are youfromfrom? Like what state? Because you're definitely not a Blue Harbor native. Not with those wide, pretty eyes." He brushed the tip of his finger down my cheek.
I shuddered and raised my fingers to my cheek, then finally lowered my gaze to the collar of his shirt. “I’m from the Midwest.”
“Mm, the Midwest, huh? And look at all these gorgeous freckles on you.” I gasped when he gently grasped my chin and tilted my face up, those dark blue eyes cataloging my entire face. “What brought you to Blue Harbor, doll? I’d love to be your guide. I’ll show you a real good time.” He winked at me and stepped closer.
What? What was happening? What did he mean? Was he…
Was he flirting with me?
I was speechless. I had no idea how to handle a man like this, and all the synapses in my brain were misfiring.
No, there was no way he was flirting with me.
“Speaking of a good time, I really need your help. Can you help me?” He smiled, a playful curve of those wide, full lips.
“Um…okay…” I didn’t know howIwould be able to help him, but I would try my best.
He grabbed my hand and grinned. “I knew you’d be my knight in a white t-shirt. Come on, it’s starting in a minute.” He flashed me an enormous grin and tugged me along behind him.
I paid no attention to where we were going because all my focus was on his hand around mine. His fingers on mine. The intoxicating heat of him.
Everything was a blur until he finally stopped beside some kind of makeshift stage. It sat in the center of a parking lot thatwas cordoned off for some kind of event, and a small crowd was gathered in front of the stage, looking up at the men who were standing in a line up there. All of them were wearing white shirts or white tank tops and swim trunks. One of the men had on a bright orange speedo.
There was a coiled hose on one side, a couple buckets behind the men, and a man with a microphone who was talking to the crowd.
“—fourth annual wet t-shirt contest here in Blue Harbor!” The crowd cheered as the emcee strutted confidently to the left. “We have a goal and we need your help to reach it!” More cheers form the crowd. “Help us raise funds for the Blue Harbor Animal Rescue! Come on, people, these little puppies need you! Just look at those faces!” He pointed to a small group of dogs on leashes to the left of the stage while the crowd collectivelyawwedat the puppies.
A warm hand curved over my cheek, turning my face until my eyes met the pink-haired man’s. “So I completely forgot what day it was, but even if I’d remembered it would’t have mattered because I don’t even own a white t-shirt.” His eyes drifted down to my chest. “You, however, are in possession of just what I need. Can we trade? I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”
He looked at me from beneath his lashes and all the breath whooshed from my lungs. “Okay,” I whispered, not even knowing what I was agreeing to. All I knew was that this beautiful man needed help and he was askingmeto help him.
Me. Boring Beau from Nowhere, Kansas.
He pecked my cheek and laughed when I gasped. “You’re wonderful.” When he began undoing the buttons on his shirt, my pulse roared in my ears.
Wait, what had I just agreed to?
“Come on, love, you gotta take that off.” He peeled his shirtfrom his torso and held it out to me, giving it a little shake. “The shirt, babe.”
As if someone else was at the helm, I dragged my top off in a daze. His smile widened as he took it, gently pushing his shirt into my empty hand. “There we go. I have a feeling Hawaiian shirts are your thing. Let’s see it.” He pulled my t-shirt over his head. It was a little on the small side for him, and my gaze caught on the hard sliver of stomach that the fabric wasn’t able to cover. I swallowed thickly.