Page 19 of Official

And I snap the shot before she tells me she’s ready.

I check my handiwork and nod. “You’re a natural.”

“I didn’t do anything.” She looks over at me, her eyebrows furrowed.

“That’s why I said natural.” I tilt my head with an underlyingduh.

She licks her lips and reaches up to tousle her hair, loosening the curls at the end. “A couple more after I’m ready.” She eyes me and adds, “Please, Sir Xander.”

I chuckle and wait for her signal as a few people pass behind me, murmuring about a snuba excursion they went on this morning. I’m immediately interested in hearing more, but Sam draws my undivided attention back to her.

And she hasn’t even said anything.

She scoots farther back onto the hammock until her feet dangle in front of her, her bare heels and toes barely grazing the ground. A soft wind sweeps under her dress again and lifts the material just slightly, like it’s keeping the color of her panties a secret.

I find myself leaning in to find out.

“Did you take it?”

Are they pink like her toes?

Is she wearing a thong like in her viral video?

“Hello? Earth to Mr. Logan,” she calls out to me, sitting upright.

“Hmm?” I clear my throat and shift from one foot to the other. “I’m ready. Tell me when.”

She gets back into position and looks away from the camera, her glossed lips barely parted, her skin tan and radiant.

I never really knew the meaning of the wordsun-kisseduntil now. Until I stare at Sam and her golden-brown skin, her legs long, lean, and toned.

Like a gift from the sun itself.

It’s hard to take my eyes off her, but once she gives me the go-ahead, I manage to snap a few shots.

She smiles, and I take a few more, feeling like I’m intruding for some odd reason, even though she’s the one who asked for pictures.

At the end, she hops up, grabs her strappy sandals, and sashays toward me, an extra bounce in her step that I hadn’t witnessed before we got here.

It’s like taking a few pictures by the beach is better than lying on it. Does she really enjoy this more than the water tickling her toes while she sips on sweet specialty drinks out of coconuts?

When she reaches me, I ask, “You like doing this, don’t you?”

“It’s fun. It makes me feel like I did when I modeled a few years ago.” She grips my shoulder and uses it to balance herself as she slips her sandals back on.

I quirk my brow. “Modeling, huh?”

“A couple years before Teddy met you and brought you into our lives—”

“Much to your excitement.” I wink.

“—I was picked up by an agency.” She smiles, a twinkle in her eye like the sparkling stars making their appearance now that the sun has started to set. “They hooked me up with a few gigs, and although I had a good time, it wasn’t for me. I felt so much pressure to stick to a strict veggie diet and cardio routine. But I fell in love with weights somewhere in the middle, and I didn’t fit their mold anymore.”

“Your agency dropped you?”

“I decided to pursue other avenues,” she says sarcastically, like she’s quoting a manual. Which I infer to mean they didn’tofficiallylet her go, but they did prompt her to quit. “It worked out in my favor, anyway, because I can lift weights and still model. But this is better since I can do it on my own terms and call the shots myself. I don’t have to deal with an agent’s nasally commands to eat my celery.”

I chuckle as we walk side by side toward the restaurant, brushing shoulders with other vacationers every so often.

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