Not only was the good cheer gone, Jack was suddenly looking so serious that Blair felt the need to do something about it. So she took the mature route and reached her hand over the edge of the tube and splashed him.
He sputtered, but he was laughing.
She sent another scoop of water at him.
“Now you’re in trouble,” he said.
“Oh no, what? Are you going to splash me back?” She pretended to cower.
Laughing, he started doing just that. “I should tip you over, but apparently I’m not that much of an asshole.”
She squealed as the water hit her face, and soon they were splashing and laughing. Deciding she was too much of a sitting duck on the tube, she scooched herself off it. A tussle ensued. It didn’t last long. A few more splashes, and she found herself being pulled towardJack, who was holding on to the inner tube with one arm. He reeled her in and arranged her so she mimicked his position, looping one of her arms over the tube. They floated, facing each other, smiling and breathing hard. The sun was making the droplets of water on his face and in his stubble look like diamonds.
Who was this man? This steady, solid man who had written something as gossamer and gorgeous asIn Time? And who, despite his self-professed misanthropy, was floating in a lake with her and smiling like shewasn’tthe personification of all things hollow and Hollywood?
His free hand floated up out of the water and pushed a wet hank of hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. From there, it settled on her cheek. She leaned into it.
They stayed like that for a long moment, just looking at each other. It should have been awkward. Instead, Blair just felt… tenderness.
She wanted to object when he broke with her gaze, but when she realized it was because he was towing them in, she went silent. She knew what was happening next.
“You’re freezing,” he said, as he extended a hand to hoist her up once they’d reached the shallows.
“This surprises you?” she said, trying to quell her shivering.
“No. Lots of things about you surprise me, but that isn’t one of them.”
He took her hand again once they’d scrambled to shore. He was matter-of-fact about taking them through the next steps. Foot rinses were followed by full-body rinses in the shower, which, although it was old and utilitarian, was hot. He struggled to get the world’s ugliest bathing suit off her, and when she made a joke about being a pixelated mermaid, he either didn’t hear it or chose to ignore it. On the surface of things, the shower should not have been an erotic experience. Whereas in her early days with Reggie, a shower might have been an opportunity for foreplay, Jack was all business, directing herto wash herself. They each did their own soaping and rinsing. There was no touching. But there was a great deal ofwatching. Intense watching. At one point he even urged her to hurry.
It was sexy as all get-out.
It made her crazy, in fact, like she might explode the moment he touched her.
Jack threw a towel around her and led her out to the main room, where he grabbed his backpack before steering them into the bedroom. She headed toward the bed they’d used last night, which was still mussed, and said, “This doesn’t need to be some big, drawn-out thing like the last couple times.”
“Oh, would you like to register a complaint about how things have been going?” If she didn’t know him so well, she would have said his tone was genuinely combative.
She tried and failed to tamp down a smile while he tried and failed to look stern. He grabbed the duvets off both beds and pointed back toward the main room.
“I would never do that. I’m just saying that this can be more…”
“Efficient?” He steered her toward the ladder to the loft and patted her butt. It was the gentlest of pats, but she felt it everywhere.
“Condensed,” she said.
He barked a laugh but quickly reined it in. “Concerted.”
She ended the game early, because “Concerted soundsgreat.” She was shivering, but it wouldn’t matter soon. She climbed the ladder. “I guess we’re going for concerted in the loft?”
“Yes. We need more space this time.”
He contemplated her for a moment in the damp light cast by the single overhead bulb he turned on by tugging at a string. She glanced around, getting her bearings. She hadn’t been up here yet. The loft featured a queen-size bed, a small dresser, and an antique vanity that was going to be a perfect spot for Sunny, who was anaspiring makeup artist, to do her face. They wouldn’t even need to change the furniture.
But time to turn off her scouting brain. There was a more urgent task at hand. She dropped her towel, and Jack’s pupils dilated despite the fact that he’d turned on the light. A curious mixture of smugness, lust, and joy surged through her.
Jack turned his attention to the bed, unmaking it from the bottom, undoing the snug hospital corners of the quilt.
“What are you doing?”
