When in Rome(68)

I laugh and bump his shoulder. “That would be your idea of fun.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, but it’s clear by his tone that he’s playing along.

“You just don’t seem like the type of guy to pursue fun. So something sedate and peaceful like this would be considered fun to you.”

“I’m very fun,” he says deadpan. “Forget Mr. Hospitable. Everyone else calls me Mr. Fun. You just haven’t been around long enough to hear it.”

“Mm-hmm. Sure.”

He raises an eyebrow, his full lips turning up at the corners. “Want me to prove it?”

“Yes,” I say with a firm nod and then have to blow my bangs out of my eyes. “I would pay good money to see it, in fact.”

“Well, you’re in luck. It’s free of charge today.” Noah sets down the fishing poles and quickly hops to his feet. I frown up at him as he extends his hand to help me stand. I slide my palm into his and my heart flutters wildly. He tugs me up to my feet until we’re nearly chest to chest. I stare up at him expectantly. “Okay, Mr. Fun. What’s it gonna be?”

I watch in awe as his face opens into a full smile, eyes crinkling at the corners. He then puts his hand softly to my abdomen, and I gasp—which is perfect since the next thing I know, he’s pushing me off the dock right into the water.





Chapter 27


    Amelia


I surface from the water in complete disbelief. Noah actually pushed me into the water. I drag in a breath and stare up at him standing proudly on the dock, eyes squinting and hands on his hips—smile marking his mouth.

I point at him as I tread water, pushing my wet hair back from my face. “What if I couldn’t swim?”

“But you do.”

“You didn’t know that, though!”

He waves me off. “I would have saved you. I was a lifeguard in high school.”

Of course he was. So dependable. And I bet he looked amazing in those red swim trunks.

“I hope you know you’re in trouble now. You just wait until I—” I cut off my own threat as I watch him reach over the back of his head and tug his shirt right off. “Uh…what are you doing?” I ask, deeply in shock at the sight of his tan, sculpted torso so easily on display. I wish more than anything I was up there on that dock where I could run my fingers over his bronzed skin. First, I’d tenderly touch his tattoo on his ribs because there’s something about it that makes me feel like it should be revered. And second, I’d touch every other centimeter available. (Because in this fantasy there are no barriers between us and I’m his girlfriend who he’s deeply in love with.)

But apparently, Noah wants me to see more of him. He grins mischievously as he unbuckles his jeans and shucks them down over his hips, leaving him only in black boxer briefs. “I’m jumping in, what’s it look like?”

It looks like this grown, toned, gorgeous man is stripping down to his underwear in broad daylight! My mouth is gaping open. My cheeks are turning into boiling flesh. It’s a wonderful thing he was a lifeguard because I’m at real risk of drowning as I try to tread water while confronted with his fantastic, strong body. I don’t care, I will sink to the bottom and die a happy woman because I have now seen perfection.

Noah is built of lean lines and cut muscles that aren’t bulky or overdone. They’re natural muscles. Not the kind that are meticulously crafted each day in the gym, but the unfair kind that come from a mixture of genetics and push-ups in the living room. His shoulders are bold and broad—stomach taut and a whisper of a V dipping down into the waistband of his boxers. He’s not a hairy guy, either, just a few light patches of golden hair here and there. But I don’t look to where there is leading or my pupils will dilate and blind me and Noah will know immediately what I’m thinking. And what I’m thinking is I’d like to climb right up that sturdy man. Even just his exposed wrists have been making my mouth water all week, let alone his powerful, rugged body.

I’m relieved from having to rely on my willpower to stop ogling him when he runs and jumps off the dock, cannonballing into the water. He comes up with a smile and shakes his head to throw the water off his face.

“I cannot believe you just took off your clothes and jumped in the water.”

Noah—pie shop owner, stern face, and grumpy mumbler—just stripped and jumped into the water with a childlike grin on his face. This adds a new layer to him. Something exciting and lively to his comfortable-calm. Unfortunately, it’s making his sexy meter ring off the charts.

Noah’s shoulders and pronounced collarbones hover above the surface of the water, and now I’ll have to find a way to forget how his hair darkens two shades when it’s wet. The way droplets cling to his eyelashes and firm skin. “You challenged my ability to have fun. I had to prove myself.”

“But how come you got to take your clothes off first and keep them nice and dry, but I didn’t?”

His eyes darken when they fix on me. “I think you already know the answer to that question.” Because he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off me. Because this heat I’ve been feeling between us is not one-sided.

But the way he’s looking at me—I feel naked. I watch with appreciative eyes as Noah raises his hand and pushes it back through his hair, wicking water away and flashing me his bicep in the process. Flash away, biceps. I’m at your mercy.