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Luke narrows his eyes. “Are you saying you’re no longer impressed by my humongous stature?”
After the word humongous and before the word stature, I can’t help it… my eyes dip down.
When I look back up, he’s grinning like a fool.
I flick the surface of the water. “Don’t be crass.”
He lets out an open-mouth laugh. “Tsk, tsk, Princess. I’m not the one who looked.”
I try not to smile.
The water distorts the image of what’s below the surface, so it’s not like I saw anything other than the bright orange fabric of his swim shorts.
“So… Minnesota Sleet, huh? That where you’re from?”
Luke nods, his wet hair plastered to his forehead in a way that should be dorky but is obnoxiously sexy. “Born and raised. Now, let me guess.” He narrows his eyes at me. “You’re from Chicago.”
I gasp.
His brows shoot up. “Really?”
I snort at his reaction and shake my head.
His shoulders slump like he’s actually disappointed. “Alright, Miss Wagner. Where are you from, then?”
“Naperville.”
He blinks at me. “Where’s that?”
I pause for a moment. “Just outside of Chicago.”
Luke blinks once, then drops his chin and looks at me like I just told the worst joke in the world.
He looks so put out.
I bite my lip, trying to stop my laugh.
This man, with muscles and tattoos and an interest in romance novels… He’s adorable.
He slowly lifts a hand above the water, then dramatically positions his fingers before flicking the surface, sending drops of water my way.
And I can’t stop the laugh this time.
My shoulders shake, making it hard to keep treading water, and the harder I try to stop laughing, the worse it becomes.
And he’s still staring at me, narrow eyed.
It’s like trying not to laugh in church. The more you try, the more impossible it is.
I spin away from him in an attempt to compose myself.
“No, don’t turn away,” Luke deadpans. “I love it when beautiful women laugh in my face.”
I shake my head and smile as I look out at the never-ending horizon. “Something tells me your ego can take it.”
“Maybe,” Luke replies. “But my heart can’t take being this far out.” He hooks his arm through mine and starts towing me back toward the shore.
I don’t know this man. This Luke Anders, professional hockey player, if he’s to be believed. And yet… I don’t stop him.
