Page 22 of Not You Again
One hundred thousand dollars.
“Kit’s already down there.”
Of course he is. I force a smile and close my sketchbook before I stand.
“Andie.” Cassidy stops me as I head to the door.
“What?” I just barely cover the annoyance in my voice.
“Maybe wear something less …” She gestures at my outfit.
I look down at my terry cloth pants and cotton tank. It’s a comfortable outfit, and I’m on vacation.
At my hesitation, Cassidy explains, “I know you’ve already married him, but maybe trying to look good for him isn’t a bad thing.”
I mutter a curse under my breath and duck into the bathroom to change. When I emerge in a red bikini and a long, flowing skirt I made myself—with pockets, of course—Cassidy gives me a wide grin. “That’ll do.”
She clips the pack to my waistband and attaches the mic to my bikini strap over my heart. When she’s satisfied, we make our way down to the pool to drink cocktails and have our conversation directed by the producers on the sidelines.
What I find when I get there, however, is Jamie in a Hawaiian shirt and swim trunks, assembling what appears to be a giant game of Jenga. The tower is as tall as he is.
“Hey, Andie”—Kendra waves me over with a megawatt grin—“you made it!”
Kit rounds the corner of the pool—on his way back from the bar, with a beer in his hand—and stumbles over his feet when he sees me. He recovers with a lighthearted chuckle, and I register that he’s not wearing a shirt. I swallow as he approaches, my heart clanging against my rib cage so hard I’m surprised Steve isn’t flinching at the noise.
When Kit is close enough that I could run my fingers along the tan line right above the waistband of his shorts—not that I’m thinking about doing it—he reaches out and plucks at my bikini strap right below my collarbone. My lips fall open in a gasp. I suppose I should have expected it with how he’s been teasing me, but that touch was playful.
His skin barely brushed mine, but my nipples tighten. I cross my arms over my chest to hide them from the cameras.
A sly grin crosses his face. “You look beautiful.”
My tongue darts out to wet my lips, and his gaze follows it like his life depends on it. “Thanks. You look … comfortable.”
He laughs good-naturedly, and I can’t take my eyes off the muscles in his throat. “It’s a comfortable kind of day.”
An image of our limbs tangled in bed overtakes me so fast I swallow to push it down. Back to the depths of hell.
“We’re about to start a game. Can I get you something to drink?” He plucks my bikini strap again. Alcohol. Right. That’s probably why he’s so relaxed.
I can see Cassidy out of the corner of my eyes, so I give Kit a smile. “Can I share yours? If you don’t mind, I mean.”
“What’s mine is yours,” he says with a twinkle in his eyes. It’s not fair how good-looking he is, truly. He’s only gotten better with age, a veritable god standing in front of me.
I take the beer when he offers and bring it to my lips. His brown eyes darken as I take a slow drink. It’s crisp and bitter on my tongue. I hold out the glass so he can take it back. With his free hand, using his thumb, he wipes a bit of foam off the corner of my mouth.
I expect him to wipe it on his shorts, maybe, or shake it off in the sun. But no. He brings that thumb to his mouth and makes a point of licking the foam off, never once breaking eye contact with me. My cheeks burn and my nipples go hard again. My body can’t decide if I’m hot or cold.
That was a dick move.
“Quit flirting and come show us what you’re made of,” Patrick booms, adjusting his backward baseball cap on his head.
I take a step back from Kit and clear my throat. He gives me one last smirk before turning to the game. “I’ll tell you a secret.” His fingers brush my lower back. “I’m a Jenga champion.”
I snort, rolling my eyes.
“I mean it.” He nudges me with his elbow. “In grad school, a bunch of us from my architecture program would get together to see who could stop the tower from falling. I’m undefeated.”
The spark in his eyes reminds me of the Kit I used to know, and it makes my heart ache. I reach to rub away the pain but get scolded by Cassidy for messing up the microphone. She ducks in to readjust it. When she’s back out of frame, I tell Kit, “Don’t let me down, then. I don’t like to lose.”