“Ellie?” Cade muttered, startling me out of my staring contest with his nipples.
My head snapped up. “Yeah?”
A slow, distracting smile lifted the corner of his mouth. “You finished?”
“Um, almost.” I winced, but then sucked it up because I didn’t want Cade to get skin cancer. Holding my breath, I squirted out more sunscreen and rubbed it in a general arc over his smooth pecs, making sure to get full coverage of each nipple. When I finished rubbing it in, I handed over the bottle. “There. All done.”
Cade was all business during his turn. He rubbed the lotion between his palms before applying it over my arms and legs in brief, controlled swipes. No rubbing, caressing, or massaging in sight.
I glanced over at the other couples—happily taking their time and groping each other—before clearing my throat.
“Um, this isn’t believable,” I murmured.
Cade’s hands paused on my calf. “What’s not believable?”
“Us. Our acting,” I whispered, digging my toes into the sand and nodding toward the others. “Look at the rest of them. They’re all over each other, while you’re rubbing lotion on me like I’m your sister, not your fiancée.”
He straightened with a frown. “I’m rubbing it normally.”
“That’s the problem. We’re engaged, Cade,” I reminded him. “Yet you’re focusing on the lotion instead of trying to cop a feel. We should be acting madly in love.”
“That won’t work.” He went back to his precise applying, this time on my shoulders. “Harrison is already suspicious. If I start acting all starry-eyed around you, he’ll think you drugged me.”
My brows shot up. “Won’t he still question it if you don’t loosen up at all? It doesn’t have to be anything drastic. How about we hold hands after we finish with the sunscreen? That’s easy enough.”
Cade’s hands dropped from my shoulders. “I don’t hold hands.”
The finality in his tone made me squint. “…At all? What if your fiancée really liked holding hands?”
“Then she wouldn’t be my fiancée, because we wouldn’t be compatible.”
“Huh.” I paused, eyeing him thoughtfully. “That actually explains a lot.”
His eyes narrowed. “Don’t tell me your ‘services’ include psychoanalyzing, too.”
“No, that wasn’t covered in our training,” I quipped, fighting a smile. “But I’m sorry. I won’t ask you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with.”
“Now you’re being ridiculous,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not uncomfortable. It’s just a preference. I don’t enjoy holding hands.”
“Of course,” I said lightly. “That makes sense, since it can take a lot for some men to show affection in public. Not all of you can.”
He cocked a brow. “Reverse psychology again?”
I smiled innocently. “It worked last time.”
The whisper of a smirk was all the warning I had before Cade yanked me against his front. My palms slapped against his stomach to catch myself, while his hands were already sliding down my back and over my butt to grip the part of my cheeks not covered by swimsuit. He took a firm hold and massaged the lotion in, leaving me struggling to catch my breath.
The sunscreen was cool at first touch, but it warmed quickly the more he rubbed.
I couldn’t help fixating on the size and strength of his beautiful hands.
Cade’s head leaned down next to mine while he worked, and his lips brushed my ear in the softest of touches. “Comfortable enough for you?”
The low murmur injected a shot of heat straight into my veins.
“Um—” I swallowed, failing to gather my scattered thoughts.
While I tried to string two words together, Cade’s magical hands shifted to my back and continued rubbing. His thumb snuck underneath the string of my top, the touch more like a caress as it summoned an army of goose bumps in its wake.
