The strawberries were a spur-of-the-moment decision, and now I was wondering if they were too much.
I scrubbed a hand over my jaw, debating whether to leave them there. I didn’t do things like this, at least not without a reason that made sense. Although nothing about our time together so far had made sense—so fine, the strawberries would stay.
The door slid open behind me.
“Please tell me this is for me and not some other lucky guest who won a medal I don’t know about.” Sawyer stepped out, freshly rinsed off, hair damp and pushed back from his face. He’d thrown on a pair of vibrant turquoise swim trunks, and they rode low on his hips, showing off his lean body that had put in the work this morning.
“Depends,” I said, trailing my eyes over him and not doing a thing to hide it. “You win anything I should know about?”
“You mean aside from crushing my brothers’ dreams of a win and proving I’m the superior Montgomery? No big deal.”
“Bragging rights for life?”
“And beyond.” He glanced past me at the setup, and did a double take. His mouth parted slightly. “This is… Wow. You really committed to the bit, huh?”
“There’s a bit?”
“Oh, definitely,” he said, moving toward the tub. “You know, hot guy shows up, fixes my shoulder, sets up a whole spa situation to prove he’s the best fake boyfriend out there. Although…you forgot the rose petals on the bed.”
“You have to earn that.”
Sawyer snorted out a laugh, but it turned into a groan as he sank into the water. “Oh my God. I’d do that course ten times over for this.”
“Count me out. Once was enough.”
“See? You’re the brains of this duo.”
He said it so casually, thinking of us as a duo, that I had to remind myself that none of this was real. I stepped in, settling across the tub from him to watch as he tipped his head back and exhaled.
“I think my muscles are actually forgiving me for the hell I just put them through,” he said.
“Good. That’s the goal.”
His eyes closed, his chest rising and falling with each deep, steady breath he took. It felt selfish to get to watch him like this. Skin glistening, beautiful body on display, completely at ease in the relative privacy of the cabin. From the front porch there were rocking chairs and a view of the lake, but back here was more closed off by trees that blocked out most of the sun—and did a good job of shielding us from the view of anyone nearby.
“This is almost perfect,” Sawyer said with a contented sigh.
“Almost?” Not me over here wondering what I could do to take it fromalmosttofuckingperfect.
He cracked an eye open. “Yeah. I really wish I wasn’t allergic to strawberries.”
“What?” Shit, I didn’t even think to ask if he was allergic to anything. I could call the concierge back, ask for?—
“Becks? I’m kidding. You should see your face, though. You look like I just told you Santa isn’t real.”
“Santa isn’t real?”
He laughed, shaking his head before his gaze landed on me and lingered. “Do you always do this? Like…this level of attention to detail?”
“Depends on the person.”
He flicked a leaf that fell in the water out of the tub. “Well, for the record, I’m impressed. And maybe a little concerned about getting emotionally attached to this hot tub.”
“It could be worse. You could still—” I stopped myself, but I’d already said too much. Every run-in we had with Sawyer’s ex made me wonder what kind of act he’d put on to gain Sawyer’s trust in the first place. It was prime manipulative behavior the way he kept waiting until Sawyer was alone to pull him aside.
“Still be emotionally attached to Peter?” he finished for me. “If you’d asked me a few days ago, I probably would’ve disagreed, but…I think you might be right.”
He stood up, reached for the platter of strawberries, and held it out to me, and only after I helped myself did he grab one off the top.