Page 40 of Sterling Fight

“Put on your suit. I’ll wait.” Judd doesn’t budge, standing like a palace guard, stone still and glaring at me to move along.

When he doesn’t back down, I slink from the stool, taking my time to enter the guest room and rummage through my suitcase for the bathing suit I’d tossed in last minute. I hadn’t planned to swim anywhere, but packing the suit is like bringing along that little black dress you can wear for any occasion. One should always be prepared when traveling.

In some respects, I should just go home. Accept that this was a lost cause trip and return to where I’m familiar. My apartment awaits. But my apartment is also lonely at times, especially as I work in such an isolating industry. Being a creative is a solitary job, and another reason working with Greetings Ambassador sounds appealing.

I wouldn’t be alone day in and day out anymore.

Slipping into my bathing suit, I don’t bother looking at myself in the mirror. I’ll only be critical of my appearance in the Kelly-green two-piece tankini. I’ll only see what my mother called me and not a proudly single person, embracing her sexual freedom as a woman of the modern era. The damning insult insinuates that I’m not particular about who I converse with, or date, or sleep with. I am selective because the last thing I want to become is her, desperate and vying for a man’s attention to replace the man before him. Or bitter and angry because no one lives up to her standards.

I toss on a coverup and reenter the great room where Judd is waiting, staring down at my phone from his seat in a highbacked stool. The device looks small in his larger hand.

“I want to smash this to pieces.” He looks up at me. “No one should ever speak to you like that, firefly. I don’t give a fuck if she is your mother.”

“Firefly?” He called me the same name last night.

“Genie, you’re a bright light even in broad daylight. Don’t let anyone diminish that spark.”

Okay then.

Judd sets the phone face down on the counter as he stands up. Then, he holds out his hand. When I take his offering, he tugs me forward and I stumble into him. Wrapping his arms around me, he tucks my head against him. The position is dangerous. Cheek to bare chest. His heart hammers beneath my ear. His winter mint and lake water scent is strangely intoxicating.

I could get lost in Judd. Or maybe I’d feel found.

I shake the thought as we linger in this position. My arms wrap around his cool flesh, and I flatten my hands on his shoulder blades. Judd hisses at the contact, so I loosen my arms, thinking he doesn’t want me to touch him there, but he tightens his grasp, pinning me to him.

I swear he kisses the top of my head, but I can’t be certain. Then he releases me.

“So . . . um . . . swimming.” He swipes a broad hand down his face and clears his throat.

My gaze drifts lower on his body, noticing our closeness has an effect; however, I don’t want to turn this moment sexual. I don’t want to feel like the slut my mother called me.

Judd waves toward a door to the right of the fireplace, and I lead the way until we step out onto his back deck. He reaches into an outdoor wardrobe to retrieve additional towels and tucks them beneath his arm, then he guides us across the grass to the dock jutting into the lake.

The late morning is beautiful. The sky is crystal clear, and the water reflects the brightness, giving off a silvery sheen.

“How deep is this thing?” I question, not a fan of spaces where I can’t see what’s below me.

Judd has dropped the excess towels to the dock, plus the one at his waist, to reveal a Euro cut swim trunk that rivals fitted boxer briefs.

Sweet succulents. Judd’s body is sinful. The muscles in his legs are apparent. Those abs still on display. He’s just too much.

“Maybe six feet closest to the perimeter.” He points vaguely at the space closest to the dock. “But don’t worry, I’d never let anything happen to you.”

His gaze catches on my eyes, and I sense he means something deeper than letting me drown or be attacked by the unknown.

Slipping off my coverup, I glance self-consciously at Judd. His eyes are wide and bright, blending with the sky behind him.

“Your body is downright deadly.”

I tilt my head. “Is that a compliment?”

“Yes.” The answer is strained. “You steal my breath, firefly.” His voice is rough as he drinks in every curve and dip of my body. The subtle swell of my hips. The short length of my legs. The hourglass shape of my waist and breasts. I’m not flat-bellied and toned, but Judd’s appraising gaze makes me feel like a supermodel.

“That sounds a little like a pickup line,” I joke, feeling a slight relief after the tension of the call with my mother.

“Really?” Judd tilts his head and steps closer to me. “This feels more like a pickup.” Instantly, I’m swept up into his arms.

“You wouldn’t,” I shriek, wrapping my arms around his neck.