"Are you some sort of unicorn? Because I feel like I just won the lottery." I rub my nose against hers.
She giggles and throws her head back, and I kiss her cheek.
"Why should men have all the fun?" she asks while fisting my hair in her hands.
"Excellent question. I don't think they should."
"So, do we have a pact?" Her blue eyes shimmer and tease.
"Remind me of our pact. I'm a little distracted right now."
"We demand nothing from each other."
"Pinkie swear. No demands." I raise my hand out of the water. She still has her legs clamped around my waist. We link pinkie fingers.
"No falling in love."
I shake my head. Why is my heart slamming against my chest? Is this for real?
"No living together, no marriage, no controlling each other. We both respect that we have other important things to focus on. My business, your river tours. Our attention needs to be on those." Her voice is serious, punctuated by the small waves lapping against our bodies.
"None of that. Promise. You focus on your business. I'll keep on fishing. We'll keep things respectful and fun."
She blinks, then nods. "Respectful fun between friends. I want to see what I've been missing."
I growl and draw her into my body, my hand on her jaw so that I can position her lips right against my cheek. "Beautiful, I'll show you what you've been missing and more."
So much more.
TWELVE
Remy
I'm scrubbing down my fishing boat after a charter, and I'm sweating buckets. It's three in the afternoon on a Florida July day, and I think Hades is less steamy than Cypress Grove right now.
It's been a great day so far, but I'm bone tired. I'd taken a rich British tourist out on the water early this morning to fish for largemouth bass. The water had been calm, the fishing hot. A perfect day. It had seemed like everything in the water was biting, and the client was stoked. Tipped me real big, too.
As I'm just about to clean a portable cooler with a hose, I hear the slap of flip-flops on my dock.
"Hey you," comes the woman's voice.
I grin before turning around. Leilani.
"What are you doing here?" I dump the ice in the cooler overboard. The cubes practically melt on contact with the warm river water, which is kind of a metaphor for what happens to my insides every time I see her.
"I was running some errands and remembered you said in your text this morning that you'd be back around now. Came by to say hey."
Oh, yeah, I did text her before I went out at six a.m. It had been one of those rare nights when we didn't stay together, because I had a late night playing poker with my brothers. I don't text her all the time, not really. It's not like I have to check in with her. I just like to see what she's up to, and this morning when I'd texted, she had been asleep and had responded with an adorably grumpy message, something about needing her beauty sleep.
"Sorry for waking you this morning."
She steps into the boat, the hem of her little, pink sundress kicking up and showing me a swath of her tanned legs. I want to groan out loud because she's a sight for my sore, sea-struck eyes.
She stands on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek, and her perfume washes over me. Her fingers graze my bare chest. Suddenly, I'm not so tired anymore.
"How'd it go on the water today?" I love that about her, how she always asks how my fishing trips went.
"Caught a lot of bass. They were biting like crazy. Oh, and we saw a manatee, too."