5. June

5

JUNE

The moment the suite door closed behind me, I messaged Missy to let her know where I was and that I was safe and sound. She replied a few seconds later.

Be there in ten.

Ten minutes was more than enough time to get my crap together. I set a timer on my phone just in case she didn't make it back to the room, then ducked into the bathroom to splash some cold water on my overheated face.

Sutton was... unexpected, and I found myself torn between worrying that I'd made a huge mistake asking him to pose as my vacation boyfriend and wondering if I would be able to sleep a wink from the giddy excitement of spending the next day with him.

I hadn't lied about the shore excursion. I did have one booked, but it was supposed to be for me and Missy. Except Missy hadn't seemed all that interested when I'd mentioned it to her. So, I'd figured I would be going alone.

Which would have been fine. I was used to doing things on my own.

When you spent most of your twenties single, while your friends found the loves of their life left and right, you learned that taking yourself out to dinner or to the movies wasn't as bad as it sounded. There was no argument over which restaurant to choose or which movie to watch or where to sit in the theater. And I didn't have to worry if my dinner had too many onions in it or share my popcorn.

Being single was easy. Lonely at times, sure. Getting sick sucked because I was still the one who had to drag my butt out of bed to make my own soup and hold my own hair, but it was mostly drama-free.

Sutton was right about the trip though. Our ruse would be more believable if we did things together, on and off the ship.

By the time Missy walked through the door holding her strappy heels in one hand and an open bottle of champagne in the other, I was half asleep on the couch in my sleep shorts and tank. Or maybe I had fallen asleep. My e-reader had gone dark in my lap, but the timer on my phone was ticking down the final minute.

"Wakey, wakey," she sing-songed. She tossed her shoes in the general direction of her room, dropped her matching wristlet on the table, and sank down on the cushions next to me. "And drinky, drinky." She held the bottle up.

I took it from her and brought it to my lips. Not only was it flat, but it was also room temperature. "How long have you been walking around with this?" I asked, setting it aside.

She shrugged. "Since I decided all men are selfish jerks."

"Uh oh." I knew this rant. She might not be slurring her words yet, but she'd had enough to drink that she was slipping into a dark mood. "Did your harem of men turn out to be assholes?"

"Who?" Understanding caught up with her a second later. "Oh, the guys from the bar? No. They were fine." She folded forward and dug her phone out of the small bag before tossing it in my lap. "Robert messaged me."

"Why haven't you blocked him yet?" It wasn't like she owed her lying, cheating ex anything.

"I don't know," she whined, letting her head fall against the back of the overstuffed couch.

I held her phone in front of her upturned face to unlock it and opened her messages.

Hey, gorgeous.

What are you up to tonight?

Can we talk?

I miss you.

Are you there?

Will you please message me back?

I still love you.

The messages spanned the course of an hour, with the last one coming in just a few minutes earlier.

"Nope. Not happening," I said. "I'm blocking him."

"Wait!" Missy cried, snatching the phone out of my hand. "He just wants to talk."

"No, the idiot is feeling sorry for himself because now he's realizing how badly he screwed up by losing you." I took the phone back. "Do not give him the time of day, Missy."

She turned toward me and curled her long legs beneath her. "But I miss him."

"Do you though?"

Her hazel eyes narrowed in a glare. She opened her mouth, but I held up a finger.

"Really think about it. How many nights did he come home late? Or not at all? How many dates did he cancel? And how many times did he gaslight you when you questioned him about where he'd been?"

She wrinkled her nose but didn't say a word.

"The divorce is final. You have no shared assets, no kids tying the two of you together?—"

"I want kids," she blurted, yanking her head up. "He knows that, too, but he kept saying he wasn't ready."

"And why do you think he wasn't ready?"

"Because he's a dishonest, manipulative dickface."

I tried to swallow my chuckle and only partially succeeded. "Exactly."

She held out her hand and made a gimme motion.

I held her phone just out of reach. "Only if you promise to block him."

"Oh, I'll block the fucker, right after I give him a piece of my mind."

I shook my head. As much as I'd rather see her feisty than mopey, that wasn't a good idea either. "If you're really done with him, don't respond. Sending anything back, no matter how cutting, will only show him that he can still get to you."

She growled a curse under her breath. "You know I hate it when you use logic and reason against me."

"I'm trying to help," I soothed.

Missy let out a tired sigh before leaning over and resting her head on my shoulder. "I know."

"If you want your phone, I'll give?—"

She shook her head. "Hold onto it for me? Just for tonight? I don't trust myself to not message him back."

"Of course." I set her phone on the couch beside me and leaned my cheek on the top of her head. "I promise, you'll feel better in the morning."

She grumbled something unintelligible, and a few minutes later, her gentle snoring tugged a smile to my lips.

The next morning, Missy was nursing a powerful hangover, but despite what she described as a skull-splitting headache, she was grateful I'd kept her from responding to Robert. I offered to stay and hang out with her in the room—she was the whole reason I'd come on this trip, after all—but she put her foot down when I told her about Sutton and the ATV tour.

"Go, June Bug. I mean it." She shooed me toward the door with her hair in tangles and circles under her eyes. "I could use some time to myself anyway."

That I was willing to believe, but I still didn't like leaving her alone.

Before I left, I made sure she had plenty of water and aspirin. "Call me if you need anything."

She rolled her eyes. "You're going to be off the ship. If I need something, I'll call the suite host."

"Are you sure? I really can stay. We can watch movies and?—"

"I'm going back to sleep. If you're still here when I wake up, I will never let you live it down." With that, she rolled over on her side and pulled the covers over her head.

It was a little dramatic, but that was just part of who she was.

"Fine, I'll go," I said. "Love you."

"Love you too," she muttered, her voice muffled by the silky duvet.

When I finally made it to the elevators, I was running fifteen minutes late and holding out zero hope that Sutton would be there. Except he was, and when he spotted me, his face lit up.

"Hey, I was starting to think I'd missed you." Dressed in tan Dickies shorts that showed off a slew of tattoos and a white t-shirt that hung just right on his muscled frame, all I could do was stare for the first few seconds.

I mean, damn. He was attractive the night before, but I'd been hoping my attraction to him had more to do with alcohol and less to do with his genetics and charm.

Based on the butterflies flitting about in my middle, that was not the case.

"Sorry I'm late. Missy is nursing a hangover, and I needed to make sure she was good before I left."

He nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Brandon was in pretty rough shape too. How are you feeling?"

Aside from that annoying flutter that wasn't going away? "I'm good. Ready to hit the road."

He motioned to the elevator. "Lead the way."

I stepped inside, his heat brushing against me as I moved past him. Visions of his big body crowding me, pushing me up against the wall in that shiny elevator, filled my mind. His cologne was subtle, just enough that I only caught the scent when I was close enough for my shoulder to brush his chest, but my god, he smelled amazing.

It was like the man had dusted himself in warm cedar and... something. It took me until the elevator doors whooshed open to name that hint of sweetness. "Are you wearing lavender?"

"I'm impressed. Most people don't pick up on it."

"It's an interesting choice."

He eyed me. "Interesting good or interesting bad?"

"Definitely good."

His chuckle made my pulse jump. "I'm glad you approve."

We made easy small talk with each other and other guests as we made our way ashore. He seemed more at ease compared to the night before, but maybe I'd just caught him at a bad moment. We were all getting acclimated to the ship, after all.

I swept aside the hum of desire that cascaded along my nerve endings every time the backs of our hands brushed as we walked side-by-side to the tour check-in. There would be plenty of time to drool over the guy later. You know, when I was in my room. Alone.

I knew I should have packed my vibrator.

I'd thought about it. Hell, I'd even had it tucked away in my suitcase for about twenty minutes before chickening out and putting it back in my nightstand. Just the thought of some random TSA agent digging through my things and pulling out the hot pink massager made me cringe.

"Overheating already?" Sutton asked.

I pressed the backs of my icy fingers to my flushed cheeks. "No." When he arched a brow, I added, "Just a little nervous."

"Does this tour use four-wheelers or side-by-sides?"

"Four-wheelers," I answered, grateful for the change in topic.

"Have you driven one before?"

"Yeah, about a million times. That's what we usually use to get around at emergency staging sites."

He nodded thoughtfully. "Maneuverability and stability. It makes sense." Then his expression turned curious. "But if it's not the ride, what are you nervous about? It's not spending time with me, is it?"

I coughed out a startled laugh. "What? No."

Okay, maybe a little, but he didn't need to know that, let alone the real reason for the blush currently burning my cheeks.

His hesitant smile was impossibly charming. "You sure about that?"

I scanned the busy area around us for any excuse to avoid answering his question and sent up a silent thank you to the universe when I spotted the sign for the ATV tour company. "That's where we need to go."

Sutton sucked air through his teeth with a knowing look in his eyes, but he didn't call me out.

Of course, the universe wasn't entirely on my side. When the tour guides were lining us up next to our assigned four-wheelers, after giving us each a bright red, ill-fitting helmet, I was reminded I'd booked this trip with the hope that Missy would join me. Which meant I'd set it up so we'd both be riding the same machine.

Sutton took the news in stride, complete with a charming smile, but I didn't miss the way his body stiffened.

"We don't have to do this," I offered. The trip was bought and paid for. We could bow out and the tour company wouldn't be out anything.

His eyebrows lifted. "You don't strike me as the kind of woman who would give up on an adventure at the first sign of discomfort."

"I'm not," I countered. "I just expected to be taking this trip with Missy. Or alone."

"And the thought of being that close to me is enough to make you want to bail?"

Yes.

"No."

His warm laugh sent a prickle of awareness through me. "Look, if you're not comfortable riding with me, I get it. You can take the tour by yourself, and I'll find something else to do until you get back. At least that way it'll look like we spent the morning together."

It sounded like the perfect solution, but I caught myself shaking my head before he'd even finished giving me the out. "It'll be fine. We said were going to do this, so we should do it."

"I don't want to pressure you," he said, looking concerned.

I glanced around, taking in the other couples climbing on their four-wheelers. Except it wasn't all couples. There was a dad and his daughter. A teenage girl and her younger brother.

It'll be fine , I repeated to myself.

I pulled in a deep breath. "We're going, and I'm driving."

His smirk both soothed and irritated me. "Is that so?"

"Take it or leave it."

"You like that ultimatum, don't you?"

"Sometimes."

"You do realize you're basically issuing me a challenge?" he asked, his eyes narrowing.

That wasn't how I meant it, but if he wanted a challenge, I would give him one. "I wouldn't think you any less of a man if you decided you weren't up for it," I taunted.

And just what the hell did I think I was doing? Did I actually want to ride all over Nassau with this guy's big, hot body pressed against my back?

I mean...

No. Bad June. That is so not the point.

I wasn't supposed to want him. There wasn't supposed to be a real attraction on either side. This was an arrangement. Nothing more.

Sutton ran his tongue along the edge of his teeth before responding in a low, almost threatening tone. "Oh, I'm up for anything you can throw at me, babygirl."

I'd never been fond of nicknames, and even less so of pet names like honey or sweetheart. So then why would hearing "babygirl" roll off his tongue send a thrill through me?