4
Roscoe
The sun on my face reminded me of summer days at the pool with Jack. We’d done everything together, including choosing the same career path.
I rubbed my left shoulder. A permanent reminder of why I was doing this. I wasn’t letting anyone or anything get in my way.
A few people were swimming or sunbathing. But not Representative Carter or his wife. And there was nothing but silence from my contact.
A lone figure by the pool bar caught my gaze. The cutie—Stewart—was dressed in brightly colored swim trunks and a loose T-shirt. Had he seen me? His shoulders were stiff, so probably.
My resolve to keep my distance crumbled. All part of the job, right?
He moved toward the pool with his drink in one hand and his phone in the other. He was texting someone. A boyfriend? Or was he single?
Stepping up beside him, I bumped my shoulder against his. “Hello, gorgeous.”
He turned, tripped over his feet, and fell. His eyes were wide with panic as I grabbed his arms and pulled. He stumbled into me and almost took both of us down.
I wrapped my arms around him, tucking him against my chest. Did he whimper?
“Are you okay?”
“Define okay,“
he said breathlessly.
I should release him, but I didn’t want to. Not yet.
People were staring at us. I held up my hand. “He’s fine. Everyone’s fine.”
Stewart pulled away, and I reluctantly let him go. “Um…thanks, mate.”
“You’re welcome, beautiful.”
He rolled his eyes, but his cheeks were pink. Why was teasing him so much fun?
“Are you looking for someone?” I asked.
“Just hanging out.“
The words were stiff. He was a terrible liar.
I let the silence settle for a moment. “So you’re not waiting for a smooth-talking Daddy?”
“What? No. I…no.“
He clamped his mouth shut and glared, an expression that was already one of my favorites. Much better than that fake smile. Or the insecurity that sometimes flashed across his face. It made me want to kiss the hell out of him or punch whoever put that look in his eyes.
I raised a brow at his stumbled words.
His dismissive look was hotter than it should have been. “Thanks, but I don’t need a Daddy.”
I choked out a laugh and leaned in, ignoring my better judgment. “Two men battling for dominance is more my style. If you ever want to fight, sweetheart, just say the word.”
His pale skin, already pink, flushed a deeper red. Embarrassment? Or did he like that idea? I resisted the urge to check. Technically, I was still on the job.
But that was hard to remember when he glared at me with such intensity. “Do you flirt with everyone?”
“Just uptight Brits with gorgeous blue eyes.”
“I’m not—“
Stewart shook his head with a hint of a smile. I wanted to coax that smile, like the barest of flames, into something alive and bright and maybe a little reckless.
Something to match this feeling in my chest. When was the last time a guy intrigued me?
His gaze caught mine, and for a moment, I couldn’t hear anything but the beating of my heart and the roar of the fire—flames licking my body, heating my skin.
Chirp. Chirp.
I jumped and grabbed my phone from my back pocket. Stewart’s brows rose. Was that judgment?
But then his phone beeped several times, and he fumbled, trying to silence it.
I pulled up the notification and held back the swear. Candy had posted on Instagram. Instead of swimming, they were now getting massages.
Stewart let out a frustrated sound, his eyes on his phone. Was this the person he’d been texting earlier? Or did he get the same IG notification?
“Are you following Representative Carter?”
His face didn’t change much. A slight tightening of his jaw. A wariness in his eyes. “No,“
he said firmly as if drawing a line in the sand. One I shouldn’t cross. But pushing boundaries was kinda my thing.
Both of our phones pinged again. I raised a brow.
“I follow his wife,“
Stewart said with a huff. “She’s good for a laugh. And she has twice as many followers as he does.”
I wanted to pretend he wasn’t lying. Continue flirting with him. Ignore his interest in the representative. But I couldn’t. I didn’t want him anywhere near Andrew Carter.
This possessive feeling was stupid. I barely knew the guy.
“What’s your plan for the rest of the afternoon?“
I asked, raising my arms to stretch out the knot in my back. His eyes followed the movement and came to rest on the sliver of exposed skin at my waistline.
Damn. How was I supposed to focus when he looked at me like that?
He closed his eyes and took an unsteady breath. “Maybe sunbathe. Not swimming.“
His crooked smile charmed me, and I couldn’t look away.
“You probably burn easily. Your nose is already pink.”
He blinked and laughed with a shake of his head. “Right. I…um…forgot sunscreen. I’ll just pop back to my cabin—”
“No need,“
I said, not wanting him to leave. But only so I could keep an eye on him. For the job. “I’ve got some.”
I gestured to the lounge chair I’d snagged. And then I headed that way, expecting him to follow. As if it were a done deal. A foregone conclusion. That didn’t always work, but in this case, it did. Which was good because falling to his feet and begging him to stay would have been ludicrous.
“What kind of sunscreen do you have?“
he asked, and I tossed it to him. He caught it easily and studied the bottle. “It’s reef-friendly.”
This smile was real. Genuine. Like my meemaw’s chocolate chip cookies, straight from the oven. Warm. Delicious.
And maybe that was the reason for my temporary bout of insanity. “I can do your back,“
I said, then quickly added, “We don’t want your pretty skin to burn.”
Instead of the glare I’d expected, he laughed. “You’re an outrageous flirt, Roscoe.“
But his shy smile told me what I wanted to know. Stewart enjoyed my attention. He shook his head as if he could read my mind. “Fine.”
I grinned, feeling like I’d won something. “Then why are you so far away?”
He stepped closer and held out the bottle. Our fingers brushed, and hell, I must have been a little touch-starved because I felt it throughout my entire body. Not just the usual places. My elbow. The tips of my ears. The bumps along my spine.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m perfect, sweetheart,“
I said, recovering quickly. “But not as perfect as you.” I let my gaze roll over him until his skin turned a darker pink that had nothing to do with the sun. “Ready, Stewart?”
He swallowed and nodded.
“Take off your shirt.”