Page 32 of Strictly the Worst

“Put the baby down. That’s the mama coming for you,” our captain shouts at him. “She’s angry at you.”

Linc’s eyes widen in fear. And I have to admit, I zoom in on his face for a moment, before zooming out to see him gently putting his new best friend on the ground, before he starts running for his life as the angry momma pig chases him down.

He races to the shoreline, his feet splashing in the ebbing waves as he attempts to evade the pig. As he turns around to check if he’s put enough distance between himself and the pig, one of his feet gets caught beneath the other and he does a magnificent face plant into the shallow water.

The pig, sensing she’s won, grunts and turns around, ambling back to her little piglet, who follows her as they walk to where the rest of their gang is sunbathing.

I can’t help it. I double over in laughter, because if I don’t bend I’m almost certainly going to pee myself. Through a veil of tears, I watch as Linc slowly gets up, his face crusted with sand that he tries – and fails – to wipe off.

At least I have the evidence recorded in case I need a future laugh.

LINC

“Seriously, I’m going to need you to delete that video,” I tell her. She hasn’t stopped grinning since I fell face over ass into the sand. She showed everybody in the boat on the way back to Grand Exuma, too. The only one who looked sorry for me was Maya.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do that.” Tessa puts her phone into her beach bag and turns to me with an eyebrow raised. “I’m keeping it as leverage.”

“Leverage for what?” I ask her.

“Any time you annoy me at work, just remember that video is one fingertip away from being sent to all of Hampshire PR.” Her smile widens. “Although I think they’ll be impressed by how fast you can run when you’re being chased by a mad mama pig. Thank goodness you went to the gym yesterday.”

We’re sitting in a cabana overlooking the ocean. She’s still in that bikini, which is very distracting, with her laptop on her knees as she looks through the shots she took yesterday and today.

Thankfully the hat is off. She’s put it on the sand next to her because the brim kept hitting the back of her sun bed. I keep willing a breeze to come along and spirit it away.

“I’ll find a way to delete it.” I know a few tech geniuses. Or is it genii? Whatever, they can probably break into it if I ask them nicely.

“My phone only opens with my fingerprint,” she says smugly.

“There are ways around that.”

“Like what?” She looks at me, interested.

“I guess I could chop your finger off,” I say, pretending to be serious. She rolls her eyes. “Or your phone could take a short walk off a long pier.”

“You wouldn’t.”

I lift a brow. “Wouldn’t I?”

Fact is, I wouldn’t. Growing up with five brothers, I’ve learned that being humiliated isn’t as bad as it sounds. Hell, I can easily swing it back my way if the whole office sees that video. Within five minutes of it being released, I’ll spin a story about me saving the others from the pig, and then get the sympathy vote from at least half of our co-workers.

But I’m not telling Tessa that. Because she’s more relaxed than I’ve seen her in years. Sitting with her laptop on the sun bed, her long legs in front of her.

Her phone starts to buzz.

“What’s that alarm for?” I ask.

“Time for more sunscreen,” she says.

“You just put some on.”

“An hour ago.” She reaches over to take the huge ass bottle out of her bag, dolloping a huge blob onto her palm.

“You’re gonna end up with a vitamin D deficiency,” I tell her, watching from the corner of my eye as she slowly slides the white lotion down her arms, on her chest.

On her stomach.

Fuck, I want to turn around and watch her fully.

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