Page 39 of Hot Saltwater Kisses

I assessed my options. “Will you tell Nia if I have a piece of the arepa dulce? The cake thing over there.”

“What’s it to her?” Tom asked.

“We encourage each other to make healthy choices. This?” Ipointed at a slice of the sweet, dense cake made from cornmeal and coconut milk. “Is the opposite.”

“Your secret is safe with us,” Logan said.

“Awesome.” I gulped down another mouthful of coffee, about to serve myself when Logan slid the cake onto a plate for me. “Favorite person,” I repeated. Even though it was a joke—obviously—I ducked my head immediately after to will down an inopportune blush.

For fuck’s sake, get it together. It’s just sex.

The bubbling warmth in my chest begged to differ.

“I am soproudof you!”Nia fanned herself. “My little boy, all grown up.”

“You’re a riot,” I said flatly and began laying out fins. Lined up like soldiers ready for an inspection, each pair needed to be matched with two tanks, a regulator, and a dive vest. It was a routine we always followed for double dives, when we served a boat lunch in between. “Also, I am not little.”

“That’s what the neighbor’s boy said.” Nia sniggered. “And lo and behold, he wasn’t.”

“Oh myGod.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m here all day.”

Against my better judgment, I laughed. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“Yet I’m not the one who got laid last night.”

“That’s a first.”

“Sure is.” She shook her head, mild disbelief tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Look at us—it’s like someone flipped the script. Like, I drive Tom back, and all I get for my trouble is a kiss goodnight. Meanwhile, you slink back home in yesterday’s clothes sporting a love bite.”

“That obvious?” I touched the slightly tender spot at the junction of my neck and shoulder, blinking away the ghost impression ofLogan’s hot breath on my skin, his body pressing me into the mattress.God.

“Just a little.” Nia held her thumb and forefinger apart by half an inch. “Not like anyone will care, though.”

”Guess not.” I nudged her on my way to grab the masks. “Anyway, enough about me. Tom’s interested—just seems he’s someone who likes to take things a little more slowly.”

“One,” she said, “good to know. And two, we haven’t talkednearlyenough about you. I want details, my friend.”

Details, yeah. Details like the slight scrape of stubble against my thigh, or the slow slide of Logan’s fingertips tracing patterns down my lower back. Darkness wrapping around us as jungle sounds drifted through the open car windows. The taste of salt on his skin and lips, a hint of beer on his tongue. My hand around the nape of his neck.

I exhaled and tried for a casual tone. “Let’s just say it was a double feature, and I woke up feeling a lot happier than usual.”

“Huh,” was all Nia said, in a voice that carried a strange note of speculation. I wasn’t going to ask. Nope.

“What?” I asked. Well, damn.

“You stayed the night.” It landed somewhere between a question and a statement, and I did not like where this was heading.

“Astute observation,” I said.

“You never stay the night.”

“‘Never’ is a big word when referring to something that happens a couple times a year. If that.”

“You’ve also never hooked up with a resort guest,” Nia continued as if I hadn’t said a word. “And don’t tell me it’s because you didn’t have the opportunity—you did. So that’s two lines you crossed for Logan.”

“Is there any way I can stop this conversation from happening?”

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