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“Yes. How did you know?”
“You said your mom gave you the bug, so I assumed you’ve had this dream since you were little.”
“Well, yes, I did. I used to make notes at night—ideas for fragrances, ways to promote it.”
I turned on one side, watching him curiously. I had a direct view of his bicep, and that mouthwatering chest. The cocktail made me feisty. I was imagining myself licking those abs, showing my appreciation for every single muscle. Shit, and I was accusing him of forgetting we’re not alone.
“What finally made you start it?”
I whipped my thoughts back into line. “After Landon and I graduated from a local community college, we sold the pub and got jobs. We were better off financially. I kept working on my business plan on the side, and then one evening, I told Landon I’d like to try, that I’d start small, with a cheap website and production in our garage. He supported me all the way.”
“He sounds like a great guy.”
“He is. I couldn’t have done any of this without him. We worked together at first, and then he went on to start his own business in the software industry. Eventually he sold the company and opened an investment fund. He was in San Jose for a few years, but now he’s back.”
“That makes you happy.”
“Very.” I grinned, tilting my head awkwardly to sip from my glass. “Life’s always better when your twin is around to tease and annoy.”
I wasn’t sure why I was telling him all these things. Probably because he was truly listening. With Carter, I could be myself, and I loved it. I’d felt this on that first morning, when I hadn’t even known his name. Also, he wasn’t judging me, which was a plus. Some of our friends at the time had insisted that I was selfish to even think about opening a business with everything going on.
“Your turn,” I said.
“What do you want to know?”
“Confidential information, of course.” I’d said it jokingly, but Carter shifted on one side too, training those blazing eyes on me.
“That wouldn’t be fair, would it? You haven’t shared any secrets.”
“Yes, I did,” I assured him. “I don’t talk this much usually—not with people I’m not related to, anyway. So you can consider everything confidential information.”
Still pinning me with his gaze, he inched closer to the edge of his lounge chair. I was at the edge of my own, so our chests were almost touching. Our hips too. I could feel the heat radiating off his body like a physical force.
“I want to know something you haven’t shared with anyone, ever,” he whispered.
I scooted away, because being that close to him was dangerous. He smelled delicious, and the Mai Tai had been strong. Dangerous combo. Who knew what I might end up telling him?
“You, sir, are very demanding. And you haven’t earned the right to know any real classified info yet.”
“Oh, but I’ll earn it. You know I will.” Amusement danced in his eyes. I hadn’t moved far enough to be out of his reach, and my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth as he drummed his fingers on top of my thigh as if it was the most natural thing in the world. It felt as if he was promising me that one day soon we’d finish what we started in the captain’s cabin. I didn’t need any words. The heat in his eyes and the barely-there restraint in his touch was more than enough.
“Somehow I doubt that,” I teased. His eyes flared, and he pushed himself up on one elbow. His nipple was almost level with my mouth. One lick wouldn’t hurt, right? Wow... my thoughts were out of control. I wasn’t touching my glass again.
I cleared my throat, attempting to sound serious. “Yep. So, tell me about yourself.”
“You’re demanding too.”
“It’s the cocktail’s fault, so basically, your fault, since you made it. But to prove I’m not entirely unfair, I’ve changed my demand from classified information to just... anything about you.”
He gave me a charming smile that did
nothing to temper my imagination. I was beginning to think it wasn’t the cocktail’s fault. The man was just irresistible.
He went on to tell me more about his childhood, about his sister Hannah and his nieces. The more he spoke, the more I realized we had a lot in common. I was getting to know the real Carter, but I couldn’t help doubting myself. What if I saw everything through rose-colored glasses? I tended to do that, to trust too easily, romanticize everything. I was hanging on to his every word. I’d come here today for a few hours of relaxation and fun (and maybe some flirting), but I was getting more than I’d bargained for.
Late in the afternoon, it was time to bring out April’s cake. She’d refused to have any candles, explaining that those were for kids. But apparently no one was too old for a food fight. I instigated it, of course, though in my defense, it was by accident. Sort of. Carter had teased me, and in return I smeared his cheek with frosting. Things escalated quickly. My inner seven-year-old had come out to play.
“I can’t believe you’ve roped me into this,” he exclaimed.
