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“Subtle,” Beck said dryly.
“Baby girl?” He sat in front of her, presenting his back.
Whoa.
All that gorgeous, tanned skin in front of her made her mouth go dry. She studied the tattoo winding around his side. She’d seen it last night but hadn’t taken the time to study it.
It was filled with swirls and flames. Kind of abstract. She longed to run her fingers over it.
“Baby girl?”
“Oh, sorry. Of course.” She put some sunscreen on her hand and started running it over his warm, smooth skin.
Damn. She clenched her thighs together.
“That feels so good,” he groaned.
“I’m hot too.” Judd suddenly sat next to him, his shirt gone.
Her mouth dropped open. He was wider than Owen. Slightly more muscular.
Dear Lord.
She moved so she could put some sunscreen on Judd’s back too. Her mouth went dry.
“You’re an asshole,” Owen told Judd.
“Right back at ya.”
She ignored them and concentrated on getting every inch of skin she could reach. Wouldn’t want to miss any.
“There,” she said huskily. “All done.”
“Sure?” Judd asked.
“Uh-huh.” She had to stop herself from offering to do their chests.
“Beck?” she asked. “What about you?”
“I’m good,” he said hastily from where he sat on the blanket. He still had his T-shirt on. Might be just as well, otherwise she might self-combust.
“What do we do now?” Owen asked.
“I have an idea,” Beck said. He was searching around in a cooler bag.
“What are you doing?” Judd came over and brushed his hands away. “I have everything arranged in there. What are you looking for? A shake? A bar?”
“Freckles? What do you feel like? A protein bar? A piece of fruit?”
Judd turned so quickly that she felt sure he was going to give himself whiplash. “You’re hungry?”
“Um, not really.”
His eyes narrowed. “Are you lying to me?”
“No.” She wasn’t. She didn’t feel that hungry.
“She hasn’t eaten breakfast,” Beck said. “Or dinner last night.”
“What?” Judd snarled. He practically pushed Beck out of the way. He looked almost . . . feral.
She gave him a shocked look before turning to glare at Beck. What had he just done?
Judd muttered to himself as he set out a veritable feast of food. Her eyes widened as she looked over everything. There was cut-up fruit. Huge sandwiches wrapped in Saran wrap. And then he drew out some other sandwiches with the crusts cut off. These were cut into shapes. There were hearts, triangles, circles, and something that looked a bit odd. What was it?
She moved closer, knowing he’d made these sandwiches for her. Which was adorable. But what was that shape?
Judd was busy glaring at Beck. “Why didn’t you tell me she hadn’t eaten breakfast straight away?”
“I told you almost as soon as we got here,” Beck said calmly. “I only just found out myself.”
Judd turned that glare on her and she froze. “And you.”
“Me?” she squeaked.
He pointed a finger at her. “Not eating is unacceptable. You’ll be eating right now. Butt down, mouth open, get ready to swallow.”
Beck groaned. “Judd.”
“What?” she asked.
“I’m disturbed by my reaction to that,” Owen said, shifting around in his chair.
She went bright red. Poor Judd still didn’t seem to realize quite how he’d worded that.
Judd unwrapped a sandwich, then paused. “Any allergies?”
“Um, no.”
“Anything you really hate?”
“Not really. I’m not fussy.”
“Good.” He held a sandwich up and she took it from him, studying the shape. “What is it meant to be?”
“Ah. Oh,” Judd said.
Were his cheeks red?
“Ah, well . . . hmm. It’s meant to be a llama.”
“Oh, that’s cute.”
Judd eyed her strangely, then he glanced over at Owen. “Do you like llamas?”
“Of course. Who wouldn’t?” She kind of saw that it might be a llama. Maybe.
“I think he was trying to make it look like the llama that you sleep with,” Owen said casually.
She gasped in horror.
“Oh shit,” Beck said. “Owen, that might have been something that she wanted to keep private.”
“Amy is not a llama,” she said, ignoring Beck.
“What?” Owen asked. “What the heck is it then? Strange looking horse.”
“She’s not a horse. She’s an alpaca.”
“Isn’t that the same thing as a llama?” Owen scratched at his chin.
“It certainly is not. Amy Alpaca is insulted. She will expect an apology. She likes roses.”
Owen gaped at her.
Yep, she was acting crazy. But seriously . . . what an insult to an alpaca. She knew they were always getting mixed up with llamas, but that didn’t mean they liked it.
“It’s like calling a camel a horse,” she muttered.
“Um, sorry?” Owen said.
“Like I said . . . apologize to Amy. With roses. Preferably white. Although she isn’t fussy.”
She turned back to Judd. “I can understand why you struggled since you didn’t have accurate information.”
“Ahh, thank you.”
“Have I really got to buy roses for an alpaca?” Owen was asking Beck.
“I think so, man. The alpaca sounds pretty upset.”
Oh Lord.
They thought she was nuts. She thought she was nuts.
But when she risked a look at Beck, he just winked at her. Owen was nodding thoughtfully. He brought out his phone. She reached over to grab for it.
