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He knew she was right, that getting physical with her was a bad idea, that they were a bad idea. Knew he’d only hurt her if given the chance. Just because he was confused didn’t mean he had to drag her into it. She knew what she wanted—a steady boyfriend with the promise of a future. He couldn’t give her that. He didn’t know how, didn’t know if he was ready even to try something like that.
It didn’t matter how badly he wanted to get naked with Carly Jensen; it was a terrible idea.
But a tiny voice from somewhere deep down inside asked: if it was a bad idea, why did it feel so right?
* * *
It had been just over twenty-four hours since the kiss. Just over twenty-five hours since the neck kissing and raging salmon incident. And Carly was probably about to set a world record for the number of times someone could play back a memory in a twenty-four-hour period, because try as she might, she couldn’t stop thinking about it. She’d replayed the kiss by the pool yesterday. At dinner. Having drinks with everyone in the lobby. Lying awake in bed, Dean breathing peacefully beside her from his side of the pillow wall. This morning on the beach. Now, sitting by the pool with the group.
She’d kissed Dean. And he’d kissed her right back, and God, his mouth had felt incredible, both on her neck and against her lips. Knowing he kissed like that wasn’t doing anything to help her increasingly confusing crush on him. They’d awkwardly avoided talking about the kiss for the rest of the day, neither of them bringing it up, both of them acting as though they’d been zapped with an electric shock any time they touched.
She replayed it again, the feel of his tongue sliding against hers, his strong hands on her bare skin. The heat that had exploded over her skin, the mammoth-sized butterflies that had flapped mercilessly in her stomach. The way she’d wanted more, but knew she couldn’t have it.
And as she replayed it, she reminded herself that it wasn’t real. That he’d only brought her here because his family didn’t trust him not to screw the nearest available woman. Clearly, she wasn’t even on his radar, even if he was on hers. He’d brought her here because she was apparently the one woman on the planet he didn’t intend to sleep with.
Yay.
Whatever. It was fine. It was a just a kiss. No big deal.
She leaned back in her lounge chair, letting the mesh cradle her as she pulled in a deep breath of warm air. The pool was busy this afternoon, with most of the loungers occupied with people, beach bags, and towels. The pool itself was gigantic, organically shaped with several winding arms snaking off of the main body. A bar sat in the center of the pool, staffed with a couple of friendly bartenders and constantly surrounded by people hanging out on the tiled stools in the pool. Latin-tinged pop music pumped from the bar’s speakers, echoing off of the water.
Ellie—whom Carly had found to be sweet, friendly, and funny—tapped her arm and pointed at the people by the pool bar. “Two things. One, check out the sunburn on that guy. Ouch.”
Carly giggled and grimaced in sympathy. She’d managed to avoid burning so far, but she knew what a bad sunburn like the one the tomato-hued guy in the pool was sporting felt like.
“And two, I don’t even want to think about how much urine is in that pool. No way they’re all getting out to go to the bathroom while they sit there drinking all day.”
Carly wrinkled her nose. “Ugh. Good point. Maybe I’ll try to avoid that general area.”
Matt approached, several plastic cups of golden beer in his hands. He handed one to both Ellie and Carly. “Where’s Dean?”
Carly tipped her head in the direction of the pool. “Playing with Ethan. Luke and Christie had to go approve a few things for the wedding.”
“Gotcha.” Matt settled back into his lounger.
Mark, Steve, and Dave had gone golfing, while Ellen, Grace, and Rose had gone into town to do a little shopping, along with Mike and Ashley, leaving the rest of the group to hang out by the pool.
Carly’s eyes drifted over to where Dean stood in the pool, his hands over his eyes. “Marco!” he called, turning in a slow circle.
“Polo!” Ethan was only a few feet behind Dean, who lunged back to tag him a second too late. Ethan swam away, a big grin on his face.
“Marco!” Dean kept his eyes closed, his hands planted on his hips. Droplets of water clung to his chest, sliding down over his abs.
Ethan scooted up the ladder, leaving a single toe in the pool. “Polo!” He called out in a goofy voice.
“Hey! Fish out of water!” Dean pointed in the direction of Ethan’s voice. Dean opened his eyes. “Aha! I knew it. You can’t trick me!”
“Aw, man!” But Ethan was laughing as Dean approached him.
“You know what we do with fish?” For some reason, Dean put on an overly exaggerated French accent. “We srow zem back in zee watair!” He slung Ethan over his shoulder and then tossed him back into the pool.
Carly watched Dean playing with Ethan, and it tugged at something low in her stomach that she brushed away with a sip of beer.
Luke reappeared, pulling off his shirt as he walked toward them.
“Where’s Christie?” asked Matt.
Luke pointed toward the resort’s main building with this thumb. “Dress, hair, and makeup stuff. Jenna went to go help her.”
