Claim My Baby (Crescent Cove 2)

“I think life is a hard, scary place, and swear words are the least of anyone’s concern.”

“Gotta part ways with you there, bud.” Lumberjack shook his head. “Some words just aren’t appropriate for little ears.”

“Or Sage’s, apparently, since she’s self-censoring. As you will in that arena. What, pray tell, caused you to nearly break my jaw with your rock-hard head?”

“Hello, I already said it. I forgot my bathing suit. Which royally sucks. Not that I know how to swim, but I’d planned to lounge by the pool—”

“Bikini?” Oliver asked, and there was no missing the interest in his tone. Not his eyes, since I still hadn’t chanced a look there.

“Um, no. Try modest one-piece with a skirt.”

“Why?”

“Oh, I don’t know, because this body isn’t meant for—”

He laid a finger over my

lips. “Stop right there, because whatever you say is only going to piss me off.”

Lumberjack had to chime in. “He’s right, you know. Your body is just fine.” He cleared his throat, possibly from the way Oliver lifted his head as if he were scenting blood. “Pardon me. I didn’t mean anything unsavory by that. Just that you’re a beautiful woman, Miss Evans.”

A lump was growing in my throat. Whether from Oliver’s quick rebuke of what I’d been about to say or Lumberjack’s praise, I didn’t know.

Two handsome men were indicating they found me attractive. It wasn’t even that I disagreed. I had the same issues as anyone else, but most days, I thought I had a pretty face. A nice enough body, if a little on the plump side. Just not bikini-worthy.

“I’ll buy you a bikini,” Oliver said, dropping his finger from my mouth as if the discussion was over.

“I can buy my own bikini.”

“Good. The matter is settled.”

It so wasn’t, but I sat back in my seat and bit my lip. I wasn’t buying a bikini, but maybe I’d go for a skimpier two-piece. Even go wild and skip the skirt. That would be fun.

“Oh, and since we’re on the topic of buying, I took the liberty of upgrading your hotel suite. I’ll be right next door. Don’t worry, a connecting door is between us, but you can lock it to your heart’s content.”

Since I was still pondering swimwear, it took me a second to catch up. “Excuse me?”

“The radio station’s accommodations were shit.”

His bold statement made me wince. “You need a swear jar too. Maybe a swear suitcase.”

“And you don’t even know the half of what I say when I’m sufficiently motivated.”

I frowned. “What do you—” The pointed expression he wore clued me in to my naiveté.

In so many ways.

“Oh.”

“Yes, oh. Do you truly have any objections to a nicer hotel suite? You don’t travel much. Why not do it up right?”

“You’re not supposed to be taking over. This is my chance to be independent, to live life untethered.” I had more complaints, but they weren’t coming out fast enough.

Probably since I was still wondering what Oliver sounded like when “sufficiently motivated”.

Only academically. As far as personally? Nope. So didn’t give a fig.

“Be as untethered as you wish. I will be too.”