Page 31 of Love on Deck

She started walking toward the side of the boat, where the water shone against the sun so brightly it was impossible to keep looking at it. “This is what you get for being contrary, then. A nice, oily rub down.”

“Could you make it sound worse?”

Challenge lit her eyes. “Naked. With your—”

“Worst enemy?”

“Your best friend and his fiancée and an incredible woman who doesn’t enjoy being in the same room as you.”

“Yet.”

“Never,” she said, looking out over the water.

Why was banter with her so enlivening? It was rapid and smart, pulsing through me, sparking the air between us. “Don’t give me a challenge if you don’t want me to achieve it.”

Lauren spun on the deck so her back was to the railing and put her finger up. “Not a challenge. A fact.”

“You find me charming.”

“As charming as a third-degree sunburn.”

That wasn’t the way it had felt last night when she was struggling to breathe on the dance floor—during a slow song. It wasn’t how that dance felt for me, either. I didn’t enjoy admitting to myself that despite Lauren’s rigidity and her severe dislike of me, there was something extremely satisfying when she melted against me. Her beauty had never been in question, and the more I watched her sacrifice her pride for her sister, care about her sister, the more layers of hostility seem to wear off.

There was a human somewhere underneath that persnickety cyborg exterior, and I was going to find it, one destroyed robotic panel at a time.

Lauren straightened. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m one of your ugly T-shirts or a slice of pizza.”

I looked down at my shirt. It wasn’t ugly. It was just bright.

She narrowed her eyes. “If this is an attempt at charming me, it’s a failure.”

Consider the gauntlet thrown down.

I took a step toward her, reaching for the railing on either side until she was boxed in. This close, she smelled of sunshine and spreadsheets—so fresh, probably her laundry detergent, and so pinned up. Lauren took a quick inhale and watched me carefully.

There was space. I had long arms. While I was keeping her from leaving, I wasn’t touching her except for small brushes here or there. “You can’t tell me you would prefer to spend the morning being oiled and rubbed down.”

“Which is why I tried to get us out of it.” Her voice sounded tight. “But my sister added us to their appointment for bonding time, which you appeared to want.”

“I’m not opposed to bonding as a general rule.” I tried to make the moment more intimate by lowering my voice.

Lauren raised hers. “What? I can’t hear you. Crashing of the waves and all that.”

Was the little minx trying to ruin the mood? Change the tone of the conversation? I fought a smile, because she would only do that if my efforts were working.

I stepped closer, gripping the railing a little harder to keep myself from actually touching her. “I don’t believe you.”

“When have you ever?” she scoffed, trying to appear unaffected. She crossed her arms.

But I was the Sherlock of women’s feelings, and I deduced her to be completely affected. I leaned toward her, bumping into her crossed arms with my chest. Bypassing her pink lips, I brought my mouth to her ear, brushing my cheek softly against hers. “Your poker face isn’t as good as you think it is, Sunshine.”

“Don’t call me that,” she said breathlessly. Her tone did something to my chest, tightening and heating it simultaneously.

I couldn’t lean back and look at her now or she might see through me. I kept my mouth close to her ear, but that only had the effect of making her talk into my ear as well. I was not all right with this. But I couldn’t back down, not when there was a challenge I had to win. “It’s nicer than the other nickname I have for you.”

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