One Bossy Dare

Despite probably never wearing shorts at home—I can’t picture it—he’s not pale like I imagined.

How did I never notice how strong his thighs are until now?

How defined his calves are.

How tight that butt looks with the fabric hugging it, all sculpted muscle, a machine that could send him crashing deep into any woman lucky enough to wind up under him.

God.

Even if he was born that way, he clearly pays his dues at the gym.

My brain is rabbiting, imagining the appalling things those muscles would be good for—and none of them require a treadmill. My face burns.

Thankfully, I can blame it on the evening sun.

“You two look like you’re settling in,” he says.

“We were just exploring. The beach is that way, Dad. Same as ever,” Destiny says sheepishly, jabbing her thumb over her shoulder.

“I know, Dess.” He looks at her so gently. “How are you feeling?”

“Hot.” Destiny fans herself, puffing out her cheeks. “I’m gonna need a day or two to get used to the humidity here. Even with the breeze, it’s nothing like home.”

Smiling, he meets my gaze. “You’re flushed. Don’t tell me honey badgers melt in this climate.”

“You’re not that lucky. I’m just hot, like she said.” I point a thumb at Dess.

“Let’s find you some shade,” he tells me, turning to the thick leafy trees closest to the house.

“Knock yourselves out, guys. I’m going inside,” Dess tells us, starting to move until her father holds up a hand.

“Show me your phone first.” He gives her a severe look.

Wrinkling her nose, she pulls the phone out of her pocket and holds it up.

“Good. Text me when you’re supposed to check in. If I don’t hear from you in an hour, young lady, you won’t be going anywhere alone until we’re back in Seattle.”

“Damn, Commander. You’re this strict in paradise?” I whistle.

He glares at me.

“Okay, okay.” Destiny sprints toward the house without looking back.

I watch her white sneakers as she runs.

“Is she okay?” I ask softly. “She seemed a little off when we were down by the beach, honestly.”

“She’s settling in,” he says harshly. “I’ll talk to her when we get back this evening.”

Oof. Why won’t he look at me?

“I thought you should know...she kinda freaked out when she heard the waves. Before we even got to the beach, she wanted to turn around.”

For the briefest second, the color drains from his face. It’s not the soft orange sunlight splashing him through the shadows, either.

“I was worried about that,” he mutters, like he’s forgotten I’m here.

Yep. I’m officially weirded out.

The girl’s reaction to the ocean was eerie enough, but Cole acts like he expects it. I wonder what big, scary secret I’m missing.

“Let’s find shade,” he says.

He doesn’t wait for me, just continues in the direction he’d started moving.

I tag along, making my heavy feet work.

When I’m at his side, he rests his hand on the small of my back, guiding me along.

My mind jumps back to the plane, the way our bodies touched in that cramped galley. It’s almost worse that he’s in shorts now.

There’s even less between me and whatever he’s packing below the belt line.

This should be uncomfortable—he’s my boss—but it’s not.

It feels too natural. I don’t know what that means.

“Here.” He places his hand in a thick mass of banyan tree roots and pushes them apart, making room for us.

I step through the curtain of greenery and come out the other side. I’m not expecting to see a giant flat stone.

The start of a walking path?

Cole moves behind me, so close his heat adds to the balmy air.

“It’s not far now. Watch your step. The rocks are raised up a bit, almost like steps.” He moves ahead of me to the next stone and holds a hand out.

I grasp it, feeling his strong fingers wrapping around mine as he helps me up. We repeat this until we’re heading up a small elevation.

The stones get bigger, flatter, and soon we’re on the highest stone that’s big enough to hold two people.

“Have a seat, Miss Angelo.” He never let go of my hand. He’s still holding on tight as he guides us forward, stopping just where the stone touches another large, ancient-looking banyan tree.

Through the roots and greenery, there’s a faint window to the ocean quietly lapping the shore.

We sit down, stretching our legs over the edge.

A few distant birds call, new sounds I’ve never heard before, and lovely enough to be in a fantasy movie.

So, this is why people rave about Hawaii.

I’m transfixed, staring out at a vast ocean and a beautiful forest in the same view. It stretches on as far as the eye can see.

Cole points to the edge of the forest. “See where those lower bushes start in the distance? That’s all a hundred percent Kona coffee.”

“Oh, wow,” I whisper, accidentally squeezing his hand.

He doesn’t let go.