Page 20 of Strictly the Worst

The shower is turned on immediately, and it’s as loud out here as it was when I was standing under it. I guess the walls in this place weren’t built for privacy.

No, they were built for love. I tip my head to the side, wondering if we can somehow use that in the PR pitch.

“Fuck.” A loud thump comes from the bathroom, making me jump.

“Are you okay?” I call out.

“You heard that?” he calls back. He sounds kind of annoyed. Did a fish bite him or something?

“Yep.”

“Of course you fucking did,” he mutters.

I open my mouth to tell him that I heard that too, but nobody likes a smart ass, and I’m pretty sure Linc knows I can hear him. I also hear the thud of his clothes as they fall to the floor, then the change in the sound of the water spray as he climbs underneath it.

Naked. Linc Salinger is naked. And I start to blush because I hadn’t thought about how sharing this cottage with him would feel so intimate. And of course it should. This whole resort is made for lovers, including this cottage. It’s all Angela’s fault for planting that seed in my brain. If she hadn’t said I should choose Linc as my first post-divorce sex partner I wouldn’t even be thinking like this.

I know he’d be good. I just know it. He has that cockiness to him that only men who know what they’re doing in bed have. He exudes sex, and I hate that.

I try to forget what Ange said, because I definitely won’t be going near Salinger.

There’s a buzz from the sofa and I realize that Linc must have left his phone on the back of it before he walked into the bathroom. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I lean over to see what kind of notification he has on his phone.

Hi, handsome. Long time no see. Want to join me and Catriona on a yacht next week? We’ll have it all to ourselves, just the three of us. A fun time guaranteed!

It’s from some woman named Liliana. And it makes my stomach feel slightly sick. Not because I’m in any way, shape, or form attracted to this man. I’m not. It’s just the thought of him and two women.

It’s like somebody has thrown a bucket of ice cold water over me. And I’m thankful, really. I needed something to bring me back to reality.

He’s not my type. And I’m never going there. To try to push the image of Linc Salinger and two women out of my mind, I grab my own phone and check my messages, then send a quick email to Gina to make sure I haven’t missed too much at the office.

By the time I hit send the bathroom door opens and Linc walks nonchalantly into the living room, his body glistening with water, a white towel wrapped around his hips.

For a moment I openly stare at his chest. At the defined rise and fall of his pectorals, the way his stomach is ridged, and the little line of hair that dips down from his navel, disappearing into the towel.

“Want me to do a twirl?” he asks, lifting a brow.

“Why are you in the living room half dressed?” I ask tightly.

“Because I need to get my clothes.” He saunters over to his case, lifting it up easily and putting it on the sofa. He unzips it and pulls out a shirt and some pants.

“You’re still looking,” he says, even though his gaze is on the case.

“You had a message while you were in the shower,” I tell him, ignoring his taunting.

“You been checking my phone, Carmichael?”

“Your phone was buzzing. I was trying to turn it off. And then I decided not to touch it, since I don’t know where it’s been.”

His gaze lifts to mine. “You don’t know where it’s been,” he repeats. “Where do you think it’s been?”

“With two women named Catriona and Liliana?” I reply.

His smirk widens. He says nothing as he picks up the phone to read the message. Then he turns it back off.

“Aren’t you going to reply?” I ask. I don’t know why I’m so annoyed right now.

“I’ll do it later,” he says. “Now I’m going to get dressed. You want me to leave the door open so you can watch?”

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