I meet her gaze, letting the silence stretch between us. “I like taking care of people. There’s a difference.”
Her lips curve. “Is there?”
“Bigdifference.”
She laughs. “Keep telling yourself that, and maybe one day you’ll convince me.”
Minutes later, when we reach the gift shop, Sienna heads straight for the revolving display of temporary tattoos at the back.
She stops short, eyes bulging as she takes a sheet off the stand and holds it up. “Oh my God. They have dick tattoos, Milo.”
I exhale through my nose and look down at the sheet she’s holding. There are penises in various ridiculous sizes—glittery, holographic… even one wearing a goddamn pool floaty around it.
“Now… we could be adults about this, or we could be absolute legends.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose and shake my head. “No, Sienna.”
“You’re so tempted!” she counters, stepping closer until the hem of her dress brushes my thigh. “Admit it. You want the dick tattoos as much as I do.”
I hold her gaze. “I’m tempted by many things when it comes to you.”
Her breath catches. For a second, the air between us feels thinner. “So… no dick tattoos?”
“No dick tattoos.”
With a reluctant groan, she turns back to the display and hangs the sheet back up. After five minutes of deciding, she finally chooses a sheet of small red hearts.
I beat her to the cashier, plucking the sheet from her hand and slide my card across the counter before she can protest. I can feel her glare on the back of my head the entire time I pay.
Outside, she loops her arm through mine like it’s the most natural thing in the world and steers us toward the beachside bar cart. She orders two hollowed-out pineapples filled with rum and topped with edible pink glitter. When I reach for my wallet, she’s faster—already tapping her phone against the card machine with a smirk aimed my way.
She hands me one of the pineapples, and we walk down the beach until we settle into wooden chairs under a palm umbrella, our knees brushing as we sit. I take a sip of my drink and wince as it hits my tongue.
Holy fucking shit. It’s not even noon, and this woman is determined to get me drunk before we even finish the first task.
“Too strong for you?” she teases, biting the corner of her lip to stop herself from laughing.
“It’s fine,” I mumble, my voice dry. “Just not used to getting day drunk before noon.”
“The perks of being on vacation,” she grins cheerfully, her lips brushing the edge of the pineapple as she takes a sip. “There’s no time limit on drinking—what’s that saying? It’s five o’clock somewhere, right?”
A bead of glitter clings to her lower lip. She licks it off without thinking. My eyes follow the motion far too long.
“Oh fuck,” she curses, already on her feet. “We forgot the water for the tattoos.” She jogs back to the cart, then returnsmoments later with a cup of water and paper towels, looking triumphant. “Ready to get matching tattoos with me, Milo Reyes?” she asks, dropping back into her chair so our knees press together again.
“As ready as I’ll ever be, Sienna Harlow.”
“Do mine first,” she grins, already tearing out two small, sparkling hearts. “And make it look pretty.”
I wet the paper towel and press it against the inside of her wrist, holding it there for the full thirty seconds. Her pulse flutters wildly beneath my thumb. When I peel off the backing, a perfect red heart blooms on her tanned skin.
Without wasting words, she picks up the second heart and reaches for my arm. Her fingers are cool against my skin as her thumb traces my wrist before she presses the paper towel against it longer than necessary.
When she peels the backing off, she instantly reaches for her drink and takes a long sip. A droplet of rum slides down her chin. She catches it with her tongue, and my eyes follow the motion.
Sienna sets the hollowed-out pineapple on the table and looks at me. “You keep staring at my mouth.”
God. She has zero filter whatsoever.
