Page 29 of Rating the Book Boyfriend

I realize my fingers are digging into the fleshy man-meat of Riggs’s behind, and I slowly loosen my grip, trying to think of something—anything—to alleviate this awkwardness. So I begin babbling nonsensically. Because that’salwaysan outstanding idea.

“Welp, everything looks good back here. Your ass is fine. And I don’t mean it’s fine as inyou have a fine ass, though you do. It’s a very fine ass. Probably the finest I’ve ever seen. Very tan. You must sunbathe naked. Not that I’m thinking aboutyou naked. And there’s hardly any hair. Do you wax? Anyway, looking good in the buttocks region.”

As if that isn’t bad enough, I smack his right cheek twice before yanking his pants back up.

Mortified doesn’t even begin to cover what I’m feeling right now. Riggs leans the fishing rod against the boat and turns slowly, lifting one dark, stern eyebrow. But do I shut up? No, no, I most certainly do not.

“Look, I know that got awkward for a minute.”

His other eyebrow raises to the level of the first one.

“But the good news is that you don’t have to go to the hospital to get a fishhook out of your booty.” I do enthusiastic jazz hands and put on my brightest smile. “Yay for silver linings!”

The edges of Riggs’s lips curl up slowly until he has a full-fledged grin on his handsome face as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Liberty Hill, when you said earlier that you like kinky shit, is this what you were talking about?”

My eyes turn into dinner plates, and I slap a hand over my mouth, but I’m unable to contain the giggle that erupts from my lips. And in the next moment, we’re both laughing. Like, hysterical, hands-on-knees, barely breathing laughter.

“I can’t… believe… you spanked my ass,” Riggs gasps.

“Stop it,” I giggle. “I was trying to think of a way to wrap up the entire situation without making it weirder.”

“Oh, then that was definitely the way to go,” he commends sarcastically, still chuckling. He picks up the fishing rod and nods toward the cabin. “I’m gonna get Darryl to cut this hook out of my swim trunks. And try to explain what happened.”

“Poor man is probably traumatized.”

“Or he’s impressed with myvery fine ass,” he offers, sending my words back to me with a mischievous grin.

“Oh shut up,” I chastise, lightly shoving his shoulder.

We spend the next few hours fishing without further butt-groping incidents. Riggs caught more fish than me, but I caught the biggest, a red snapper he estimated to weigh over thirty pounds.

As we wipe the fish and squid guts from our hands, I decide it’s time to get back to work. “What kind of coffee does Lucinda drink?” I ask casually.

Riggs throws his wipe away and looks at me with confusion. “Venti iced skinny hazelnut macchiato with sugar-free syrup, light ice, and no whip,” he recites with ease.

“Wow, and I thought my coffee order was complicated.”

“What’s yours?”

“Macchiato with one cream and two-and-a-half sugars.”

He nods as he retrieves a basket and begins pulling out sandwiches and chips. “Why did you ask me that?”

“The other girls and I were talking about how a lot of men don’t pay attention to the little things like their women’s coffee order or favorite color. You’re already a step ahead.”

“Huh. Just seems like a normal thing to know. And her favorite color is white, in case you were going to ask that next.”

I grin. “I was.” Walking to the cooler that holds our drinks for the day, I open the lid. “Is it too early for beer?”

“Is it ever?”

Pulling out two Coors Lights, I take a seat on the deck in front of the spread. “This looks good. I’m starving.”

“Fishing is hard work,” Riggs comments, selecting a sandwich from the tray as I do the same.

Attempting to not stare at the way his strong jaw moves when he eats, I get back to business.

“You said Lucinda likes shopping. Do you go with her?”

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