“The article is going great,” Brinton offered, which was true. But the kissing? Oh, the kissing was even better.
“I know you’re here to write this story, and I’m supposed to be impartial. But I feel like y’all have something special, so I’m gonna tell you what I told him. In the interest of the album, and his daddy, if y’all are gonna sneak around, be…” Sammi tilted her head. “Careful.”
Brinton’s cheeks flushed. “Oh…we haven’t, like, slept together.”
Not that her temporal lobe wasn’t smoldering with impulse.
Sammi threw back her head and cackled. It still managed to sound pretty.
“Honey, I meant to be mindful in public.” She casually swirled her pointer finger across the bobbing heads and gyrating bodies around them. “Eyes everywhere. So, you gotta be discreet.” She winked for added measure.
“Noted,” Brinton said, grinning.
They embraced again as Rhett approached with a plate of chicken sliders. Sammi’s eyes lit up. She took a bite and groaned with delight. Bumping her hip against Brinton’s, she whispered, “Don’t look now, but here comes the birthday boy.”
Their eyes locked as he approached, as they always seemed to.
Brinton couldn’t tell if she was too warm from the sunshine or the liquor. Or was it Jamie himself?
He wore navy swim trunks and flip-flops but no shirt, daring her to trace the map of taut muscle and lightly sheened skin. He’d gotten some color, which brought out the ash highlights in his elegantly disheveled hair.
Too stunned to speak, she briefly considered the firmness of their no-sex policy. Then she considered the firm V carved into his hips and firmabdominals that flexed as he breathed. Her mouth went dry.
Clearly, she needed to ban the word firm from her vocabulary until this article was done.
“Hey,” she said, breath as floaty as the butterflies in her belly.
“Hey yourself.” He nodded upward at Sammi and Rhett. “Sammi, thank you for the party. I don’t deserve such a beautiful day.”
“Well, that’s certainly true.” She giggled.
He pulled her in for a hug and she squealed, lightly batting him away. Jamie’s eyes settled on Brinton. Slowly, he scanned her body, appreciating things nobody else had. Things she’d never even thought to appreciate.
His teeth scraped over his bottom lip. Her core jumped another hundred degrees.
“You like the drink?” he asked.
She took a long, languid sip. “I like it a lot.”
He smiled at that, picking up on what had become their silent code:I want you. I see you.
“Perfectly balanced,” Rhett said, eyeing his now-empty glass. “That zip at the end”—he hooted again—“that’ll put some hair on your chest. How’d you come up with it?”
Jamie laughed, then raked a hand through his hair. Brinton could watch his bicep jump from the motion all day.
His eyes latched to hers again. “Mother Nature’s got a way of putting things together just right.”
She sucked in a breath.
“He’s a poet and a gentleman.” Sammi laughed and took Rhett by the hand. “So,we’refixin’ to head out. You two have fun though.”
Sammi was, undoubtedly, the best wingwoman who ever lived.
Rhett drained his drink in about a millisecond before Sammi dragged him on the path to the main house.
“Nice seeing y’all again,” he called out.
Jamie pointed out across the lake. “I could take us on the boat for another interview, by that swimming platform. It’s a little quieter, so you can record it. Plus, the boat is covered, so it’ll be nice to get some shade.”
