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My teammates spring into action without hesitation. Seeing everyone working in smooth unison soothes my nerves. We've got this.
Wyatt's strong hands make quick work of digging a winding moat around the perimeter of our castle. I have to drag my eyes away from the distracting flex of his arm muscles and focus on using wet sand to cement the parapets in place.
Meanwhile, Emrys constructs an impressively sturdy gatehouse, his broad shoulders rippling beneath the sun. With his hair tied back and shirt discarded, the intricate tattoos covering his torso are on full display. I swallow hard, forcing myself not to stare.
Get it together, Kat! Ogling the eye candy will have to wait.
Wilder returns triumphantly with two big pails overflowing with seashells. "Will these work for beautifying our masterpiece castle?"
I grab a handful of the colorful shells, impressed. "These are perfect! Nice find."
Wilder winks. "Only the best for you, darlin'."
Under my direction, we embed the shells artfully into the castle walls for added flair. As I stand back surveying our creation, satisfaction swells within me. The end result exceeded my expectations. Turrets, towers, a working drawbridge, even a fully dug moat now surrounds our majestic beach castle.
"Not too shabby, team," I proclaim proudly, hands on my hips.
Just then, Dad's voice booms out. "Time's up! Step away from your castles."
A small pang of wistfulness hits me as we back away. Our sandcastle may be temporary, destined to melt away with the tide, but the memories we created building it together will remain.
As the judge makes the rounds, I exchange grins with my teammates. "No matter what happens, I already feel like a winner with you jokers by my side," I admit.
And I mean every word.
As the judge approaches our castle, I hold my breath nervously. Our hopes ride on the stern-faced woman–my aunt Greta–holding the scoring clipboard. She surveys our creation for a long minute, occasionally scribbling notes. Her face gives nothing away, schooled into careful neutrality. The silence stretches on agonizingly.
Finally, she looks up and cracks a smile. "Well, this is certainly a castle fit for royalty. The moat is an especially nice touch. Well done."
I blow out a huge breath of relief. We did it! Without thinking, I turn and wrap Emrys–who happens to be closest– in an exuberant hug. His arms instinctively fold around me, warm and secure. Caught up in the thrill of victory, I don't even think to be embarrassed.
Wilder lets out a whoop of celebration and lifts me up as soon as I’m free, spinning me around. I land breathless with exhilaration, feet unsteady in the sand. Wyatt grips my shoulder, smiling that rare heart-stopping smile at our achievement.
It’s another few minutes of judging before Dad stands and raises his hand, bringing all idle chatter to a stop. “Drumroll, Sharpes!” There’s a few moments of pseudo stomps and shouts before he grins. "And the winners are...Kat and her decidedly loyal band of soldiers!" Dad announces proudly.
The beach erupts into cheers and applause as we're declared champions. I grin so wide my cheeks hurt. Winning tastes even sweeter alongside my fake boyfriends.
"So, what'll it be? How should we make the losers suffer?" Wilder rubs his hands together gleefully.
I tap my chin thoughtfully as we watch Joey and his crew–who just so happened to find a dozen crabs emerge from the sand at the center of their castle in the last five minutes of the competition–begin the walk of shame, hanging their heads in defeat.
"I'm feeling generous today. How about we go easy and just make them buy all the drinks tonight?"
My suggestion is met with enthusiastic agreement. As we amble back towards the resort, riding high on victory, Emrys casually drapes his arm around my shoulder. I tense briefly at the sudden display of affection, taken off guard, but eventually relax into it. His inner heat scorches deliciously through my now stiff, sun-dried dress.
On my other side, Wyatt's fingers intertwine loosely with mine like it's the most natural thing. Tingles skitter up my arm at the contact. Meanwhile, Wilder playfully flounces ahead of us, singing a terrible–yet hilarious–rendition of We Are the Champions by Queen, his eyes glimmering mischievously.
Surrounded on all sides by temptation yet filled with contentment, I let myself sink into the charade of intimacy. Just for today, I'll soak up every delicious second of playing house on the beach and imagine what if...
Tomorrow, my sensible brain reminds me, I can return to reality.
Chapter 18
As I lounge in the chair at lunch beside Kat, I can’t take my eyes off of her. Despite the tropical heat, a chill runs through me at the memory of last night–the charged moment Kat and I shared by the bonfire, her lips parted enticingly close to mine. A moment we left unexplored, but one I crave to revisit.
I must find a way to steal her away, if only for a little while. She’s far too tempting.
As Kat laughs at something Wilder is saying, an idea strikes. The resort offers all sorts of private wildlife excursions–it's perfect. There’s even one going on pretty soon. I'll suggest an intimate adventure, just the two of us. No competing distractions or prying eyes.
