That position wasn’t any better for my libido.
‘Um, nothing,’ I said quickly. ‘Come on then, let’s do it.’
‘The photos, right?’ Max smirked.
‘Of course the photos!’
He opened the first envelope and tipped them out on the bed.
‘It’s better if we go through them together. Come up here.’ He patted the space beside him.
Shit.
It’s fine. I’m just lying next to him. That’s all. No big deal.
I kicked off my sandals and scooted up on the bed.
He moved closer and our thighs touched. A shot of electricity rocketed through me and as his scent surrounded me, I squeezed my eyes shut. Thank God I was wearing sunglasses so he couldn’t see my reaction.
I wanted to pick up the photos, but I was worried that my hands might shake.
Max was so close to me right now and although my brain was trying to remind me of all the reasons being attracted to him was a bad idea, my traitorous body was aching to reach out and touch his arms. To slide my hands over his solid chest. To…
Jesus.
‘Shall we start?’ I said, desperate for a distraction.
‘Yep.’ He started sifting through the sandcastle competitionphotos and we quickly chose our favourites: one in front of the finished castle and another showing us both deep in concentration as we sculpted the towel.
Next he started going through the pics from yesterday.
There were the photos on the bridge that we’d paused to take which came out just as brilliantly as we’d both expected. But it wasn’t just those ones that caught my eye. There was a shot, taken from behind, of the two us: holding hands.
Rather than going to the next photo straight away, Max paused.
‘Cute,’ he said.
If this was a couple of days ago, or maybe even yesterday, I would’ve added a smart comment or protested. But he was right. It actually was cute. If anyone else saw it, they’d think it was a photo of a couple in love.
Of course we weren’t. It just looked that way.
Max moved to the next photo and my jaw dropped.
‘Awww,’ he said. ‘We both look so peaceful.’
It was a picture of me with my head on his shoulder where I’d fallen asleep on the coach. Max’s eyes were closed too.
‘I’m guessing that Jasmine’s responsible for these.’ I suppressed a smile. ‘At least you can’t see me dribbling on your shoulder.’ I laughed.
‘It’s a nice pic,’ Max said.
‘Yeah.’
‘I think that one’s my favourite,’ he said and my eyes bulged beneath my sunglasses.
‘Not the one on the walk?’
‘Holding hands?’ he asked.