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“Oh…” A fragile whine cracked in Lydia’s throat as her eyes fluttered shut. “Zann…”

Zann nuzzled her cheek. She knew that Lydia was more than capable of taking care of herself, but there was no silencing the voice in the back of her head that said she should protect her at all costs. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” She kissed her again, and her heart squeezed at the way Lydia whimpered and pulled her down on top of her. “What do you need, Lyds?”

Long fingers wound into her hair and drew her in for another kiss as Lydia exhaled, “You.”

You have me, that little voice replied, but Zann was too busy kissing Lydia breathless to admit it aloud.

Lydia brushed her hair from her face as she relaxed in her chair beside Zann. The group had gathered around the long, farmhouse-style table on the winery’s flagstone patio after touring the property Alder had insisted they visit because of its cavernous, natural rock wine cellar. She grimaced at the way the wine in Kit’s glass sloshed dangerously as she lifted her hands energetically to match what appeared to be the conclusion of the tale she was taking turns telling with Jack.

“So then, the boat nearly fucking capsizes and—”

“We’re, like, scrambling to try to not fall overboard—”

“It’s a miracle we didn’t, honestly.”

Though she doubted the veracity of their story about the time they, Zann, and Aspen had been caught in a tropical storm while sailing the Virgin Islands, Lydia had to admit that it was an entertaining yarn. But her attention was soon pulled from their antics by the heavenly feeling of Zann’s lips ghosting across her cheek to nuzzle her ear.

“This is all completely bullshit, by the way,” Zann murmured, a gentle burr texturing her voice. “It didn’t happen like that at all.”

She pursed her lips against a smile as she turned her head to whisper, “How so?”

Laughter danced in Zann’s eyes as she leaned in close enough that her voice didn’t carry beyond the two of them. “It was a storm, yeah, but the boat was anchored in a protected bay. There was no threat of capsizing—nearly or otherwise.”

Lydia arched a brow as Kit continued her tale, “So, there we are, middle of the Caribbean, waves knocking us sideways, wind whipping like a pissed-off motherf—”

“Again,” Zann chuckled, rolling her eyes, “we were perfectly safe.”

Zann was absolutely breathtaking this close, with an easy smile bowing her lips and the mid-afternoon sun casting a warm glow over her olive-toned skin. Lydia raked her lower lip between her teeth as her gaze dipped from Zann’s eyes to her lips and then lower to appreciate the way the three buttons Zann had left undone on her black dress shirt provided a tempting peekaboo glimpse of her chest. She let her lip slip free as she looked up at her through her lashes and teased, “Says the woman who almost fell out of a helicopter.”

Zann snorted. “That was one time. And I was wearing a harness.”

“I’m just saying,” Lydia drawled, playfully poking her in the stomach, “your definition of ‘perfectly safe’ is a little suspect.” She giggled when Zann huffed and rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on. You know I’m right.”

“Are you, though?”

“Were you wearing a harness on that boat?”

“Didn’t have a reason to. Why?” Zann’s brow twitched as she leaned in closer. Her voice dipped into an unfairly seductive husk as she asked, “Do you like the idea of me wearing a harness?”

Oh… Lydia licked her lips. That wasn’t even close to what she’d been thinking—really, she’d just been enjoying their easy banter and giving Zann a hard time—but now that the idea was out there, she couldn’t deny that she was, in fact, very much interested in seeing Zann in a harness. Still, she’d brokered enough deals over the years to know better than to show all her cards, and she affected a perfectly unaffected air as she replied, “Do you like the idea of wearing a harness for me?”

It took all her self-control not to visibly react to the way Zann’s throat bobbed heavily at the suggestion, and she held her breath as Zann’s dark, dark eyes dropped to where her hands were folded demurely on her lap.

Game. Set. Match, she thought triumphantly.

Though she didn’t want to surrender the high ground just yet, there was no stopping the ever-so-slight hint of a smile that quirked her lips when smoldering brown eyes lifted to meet and hold her gaze, and she arched a brow in a way that dared Zann to up the ante of this unexpected little game they were playing.

Before Zann could, however, they were interrupted by Kit laughingly shouting, “Jesus fuck, you two. Are you going to mount each other right here?”

Lydia blushed and flipped Kit off. “You’d like that too much, Kit.”

“She would,” Zann concurred as the rest of their group laughed.

Lydia crossed her legs and leaned into Zann’s side. There was no mistaking the mischief that sparkled in Kit’s smile and, knowing that the best defense was a good offense, she hiked her chin challengingly as she deflected, “Rumor has it that you embellished that tale quite a bit, Hawthorne.”

Kit gasped and gaped at Zann with a look of hilarious affront. “I did not!”

“You kind of did,” Aspen chimed in.