The Summer Deal (Wildstone #5)(56)

She blinked away the sexual haze he always put her in so effortlessly and put the paddle into the ocean, trying to plow it through the water.

“It’s backward.”

She shifted the paddle the other way and still could barely force the paddle through the water. “How in the hell do you make this look so easy?”

With his left hand still on her belly, giving her goose bumps, his right hand traced its way down her right arm, better positioning her hands on the paddle. “Loose knees,” he said, bending his a little, which forced her to do the same. “Now stroke like you mean business.”

“I know how to stroke.”

His laugh rumbled from his chest into hers. “Yeah, you do. You’re doing great.”

She was. Thanks to his hand on hers, guiding the paddle through the water. They were parallel to the shore, at least a hundred yards out. If she’d been on her own, she’d have been terrified. But when she was with him like this, she could do anything. “Deck?”

“Yeah?”

“Take the paddle.”

When he took the paddle, she carefully turned to face him.

Deck, quiet, tough, practical, resilient, self-sufficient . . . stood there with all his tats and muscles looking like a pagan god as he gazed down at her, one brow raised like he was thinking, Now what are you up to, woman?

She kissed the part of him she could reach. A pec, right above a pierced nipple. Then his throat. God, his body was a work of art. He ran most mornings. He lifted weights at least three times a week. His body was a temple, and she was always ready to worship it. With a little tiptoe action and some careful balancing, she fisted her hands in his thick, wavy hair that was weeks, maybe months past needing a cut, and tugged his face down so she could kiss him.

She felt his muscles bunch and shift as he adjusted, since she’d basically abandoned her post, leaving it up to him to keep them upright.

“Thought you wanted to do this,” he said.

“Yes, but what I really wanted to do was see you all wet and gorgeous.”

He grinned down at her. “That’s my line.” He ran a callused finger over the bruise in the center of her forehead, the one her sister had given to her in their volleyball game.

She’d never admit it, but she’d loved every moment of that game. Nipping Deck’s lower lip to distract him, she stuck both of her very cold hands down the front of his board shorts, taking hold of his very favorite body part.

This had him going still while sucking in a breath, carefully hissing it out through his teeth.

She smiled and gave him a playful tug.

“You’re a cruel, heartless woman.”

This had her laughing out loud. His words didn’t match the reaction she’d gotten out of him.

At her smile, his expression softened—unlike what was in her hand!—and he bent his head and nuzzled his face in her hair. “Love it when you laugh.” He stopped paddling and one hand slid down her back to her butt, which he squeezed.

“Deck—”

“You started this, babe.”

“We’re going to fall.”

“Trust me, I’ve got you.”

Trust him . . . That was the thing. She did. So much it was terrifying. “Pretty full of yourself.”

“Maybe I just know I’m right for you.”

That had her heart squeezing painfully hard. Because he was right. But she wasn’t right for him. “Remember what you promised me.”

A look of pain and frustration crossed his face. “Kins.”

“You promised me, Deck. You did. On our third date, when I tried to cancel on you. You came and got me anyway and then took me up in your friend’s helicopter, letting me sit in the copilot seat so I could be on top of the world. I made you promise not to fall in love with me.”

He wasn’t paddling now. They were drifting freely, the two of them staring at each other, inches apart.

“Tell me you won’t break your promise,” she said softly.

“You made me an oath as well,” he reminded her instead.

“That one doesn’t count.”

“Bullshit.”

On their fourth date, they’d gone horseback riding in the green, rolling hills that backed Wildstone. They’d had a picnic for dinner and watched the sunset, and she’d had the time of her life. Seriously. The time of her life. And she’d known then that she’d never be able to protect her heart from him. So afterward, when he’d taken her to a friend’s pub, she’d gotten drunk. It’d been a rare misstep, something she wasn’t supposed to do, but she’d needed the escape. And somehow he’d gotten her to promise that she wouldn’t die before she was old and gray. “Promises made under the influence don’t count.”

He let out a rough breath. “Fine. We’ll drop it. For now.”

“There’s something else I’d like to drop.”

“What?”

“You,” she said sweetly, and then she shoved him into the water. Only she didn’t count on him grabbing her as he went, so that they both flew off the board.

She was laughing when she surfaced and hooked an arm on the board to hold her upright. Which didn’t turn out to be necessary since Deck surfaced with her, keeping one arm tight around her, and one hand on the board as well.