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Dodging the playful whack she aimed his way, he held out his hand. “Come on. Let’s head back to the car.”
She didn’t hesitate to slip her hand into his and as he curled his fingers around hers he marvelled at how right it felt after all this time.
She might be singing the anti-marriage tune but this maestro had every intention of conducting them straight into a happily ever after concerto.
“Is there anywhere to change around here?”
He shook his head. “Sorry. It’s behind the car door or wait until we get to the house.”
The corners of her mouth curved into a deliciously naughty smile. “You could hold a towel up for me, but only if you promise not to peek.”
The blood from his brain rushed south and he tugged on her hand until she stood flush against him. “No deal,” he murmured in her ear. “And it’s no use asking me to turn around because I’ve got eyes in the back of my head.”
She chuckled “It can’t be too hard, right?”
She wriggled within the circle of his arm around her waist, the wetsuit soaking water through his T-shirt, the damp a welcome relief for his skin burning up from the inside out.
“I think you know exactly how hard it is.”
He could’ve shown her if he shifted his pelvis a fraction to the left but she was driving him beyond the limits any red-blooded male could tolerate so he settled for a quick, blistering kiss, chuckling when she gasped after he released her, and twirled her toward the car, giving her a gentle pat on her very cute ass for good measure.
“I’ll give you two minutes to change. But if you take any longer, I won’t be responsible for my actions.”
She flung a saucy look over her shoulder. “Is that a threat or a promise?”
“Change.” He growled and pointed to the car before his good intentions to romance her in the style she deserved went up in flames along with his libido.
“I’ll be waiting over that sand dune.” He held up two fingers. “Two minutes, that’s it.”
With a fake pout, she huffed an exaggerated sigh before reaching for the zipper and slowly, agonizingly, drawing it downward inch by excruciating inch.
Blane stood rooted to the spot, unable to tear his gaze away from her fingertips, the nails short, practical, and unadorned, wrapped around that tiny piece of black metal, sliding downward in a deliberate, unhurried tease.
She reached the tantalizing dip between her breasts, the hint of cleavage making him grit his teeth to stop from groaning.
“Remember that time we went skinny dipping after the Labour Day picnic?”
Remember? How could he forget? Memories swamped him: sharing hot nachos down by the creek, licking the spicy salsa off each other’s fingers, flickering moonlight playing over her exquisite features, him daring her to join him in the frigid water, buck naked…
“Cam.” He took a step toward her, barely managing to stop when she waggled a finger at him and pointed over his shoulder.
“I think there’s a sand dune over there with your name written all over it.”
With a frustrated growl, he turned away from her teasing grin and marched over the hot sand, putting as much distance between the gorgeous temptress and himself as possible.
He may be a romantic but he wasn’t a saint, and if that zip had gone any further he would’ve stored his romantic ideals along with his builder’s permit and gone for it.
Cam might like to tease him, to push boundaries, but he had all the time in the world.
Like forever.
Chapter Nine
Camryn wondered if she’d made a mistake.
When Blane drove through the tiny, coastal town of Barwon Heads half an hour ago, with its single main street dotted with a bakery, pub, grocer, and a few cafés for the holiday makers who frequented the town in the summer, she’d had the distinct feeling he was trying to recapture their past.
The streets had been almost deserted, the foreshore home to a few seagulls too lazy to raise a squawk, and as the car stopped at the lone roundabout to let a helmetless kid on a bike through, it had taken every ounce of her willpower not to interrogate him on the spot.
