Page 25 of Catch and Release Groom

He was a giver like that.

So was she, apparently, as she wound her legs around his waist and threw herself into the kiss.

Easton stumbled in the direction of the boat, devouring Imogen’s snarky comment about how she’d kill him if he dropped her in the water.

“Hey, if you go down, I go down,” he uttered before fusing their mouths together again. This kiss was so much more than a taste, one he committed to memory with a ragged groan as he increased the stroking of their tangled tongues. He drove his fingers through her hair, twining and twisting and, in a moment of searing perfection, eradicating that last tiny sliver of space.

Their rapidly beating hearts aligned as their chests rose and fell in unison, and his arousal throbbed as it met the apex of her clenching thighs.

An added sense of urgency careened through him, although he couldn’t quite recall why. Something about…the rocking of her hips, the scent of her neck, and hisurgent needto smear the red lipstick clean off those temptress lips.

A honk pierced the air, so loud it rattled his ears. Given the fact that every steely inch of his cock was notched against Imogen’s damp heat, it took him a few seconds to register why it sounded more like a goose than a swan.

“I thought we had ourselves a couple of slowpokes, but it turns out we’re dealing with a pair of impatient lovebirds.” Waylon Johnson, the self-anointed captain of the resort, depressed the button on his bullhorn again. “Haven’t you heard? The best things cometo those who wait.”

A few feet away, the enormous head of Imogen’s pedal boat bobbed and loudly knocked against the dock—as if their display hadn’t been attention grabbing enough.

Speaking of grabbing, Easton still had a nice, firm grip on Imogen’s ass.

A grunt sounded in the back of his throat as she unhooked her ankles and slid down his body in one torturously long drag. He’d wager she’d done so on purpose, too, giving that fishing line a tug to remind him how deeply she’d embedded the hook.

“How about now?” Imogen asked, the eyelash batting and haughty tilt of her head suggesting she’d already declared herself the winner. “Do you have a more agreeable answer for me now?”

…

Silence stretched in the air between them, and with each passing second, Imogen’s anxiety spiked that much higher. Until she was certain her only companion for her trip to the falls would be her humiliation.

To be caught at leasthalfflagrante by all the other happy couples, only for Easton to walk away as if she meant nothing…

A hollow ache radiated through her chest, even as aftershocks from the kiss continued to shiver across her spine.

At the light buzz near his hip, Easton withdrew his phone and answered, infuriatingly lackadaisical about taking the call while smack-dab in the middle of their awkward situation.

He nodded along, tossing outmmhms,yeahs, and other such generics before his face dropped. There went any leeway she’d made, and she blamed the nameless person and their awful timing.

Waiting had always been a form of torture for Imogen, whether stuck in gridlocked traffic on the interstate, obsessively checking her inbox for a response, or that elongated pause that often followed a question. Her brain used excess time to rehash and reconsider any and all information.

After a terse goodbye, Easton crammed his phone into his pocket and muttered something about hating it when his friends were right.

“Hop in the damn swan, then,” he said, not making eye contact. “We can sort out the details of our arrangement on the way to the falls.”

A high-pitched whine accompanied the clack of puppy paws, and Easton bent to pat Gator’s head. “Yeah, you too.” He jerked his chin to indicate the boat. “Go on. I’ve had my fair share of puppy-dog eyes from the both of you.”

Not one to need to be told twice, Gator bounded to the edge of the dock and leaped inside, sending the plastic swan bobbing faster.

Imogen, on the other hand, hesitated. It rankled, being told what to do after she’d resolved not to simply fall in line or go along with decisions she couldn’t get fully behind again, but it also seemed unwise to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Especially with her lips still tingling from the imprint of their kiss. Given the yo-yo-ing she was already doing, they should probably decide in advance if displays of affection would be part of the deal.

Panic welled at the idea of kissing him in front of an audience, only to be overshadowed by the worry she was about to get left behind as she watched him climb into the seat next to his dog.

Later. We can hammer out the details once we’ve reached the point of no return on this excursion.

As Imogen neared the edge of the dock, Easton shooed Gator to the other side of the boat. He didn’t join his dog like Imogen expected him to, though; rather, he braced a foot on the bow and offered her a hand.

Okay, fine. The guy could be a real gentleman when he wanted to be, and that made it easier to see through her triggers, accept his help, and place her palm in his. Electricity coursed up her arm and kickstarted her heart, and she steeled herself for the inevitable gut-punch of guilt over having kissed someone so soon after her failure to walk down the aisle.

Only, with her hand in his, too many other emotions swirled, competing for the lead. Attraction quickly pulled ahead, waving a snarky goodbye as it left everything else in the dust.

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