Those Sweet Words (Misfit Inn 2)

“It happens that I do. Go get on some shoes you can walk in and grab a couple of towels.”

She blinked. “Shoes? Towels?”

“We’ve no one to look after here, and it’s after dark. I think it’s high time we revisited Opal Springs and pick up where we were so rudely interrupted after Kennedy’s wedding.”

“Oh!” Heat sparked low in her belly. “Well, okay then.”

By the time she came back with the requested towels, he was waiting by the back door, a picnic basket and blanket in hand.

“You’ve thought this out.”

“I have. I’ve thought a lot of things out about tonight. C’mon.”

With that cryptic statement, he took her hand and they made their way by flashlight down the trail. Opal Springs was much as it had been more than a month before, except there was no echo of a party, no sign of other people who stood to interrupt. They were completely, wonderfully alone, with nothing but a symphony of crickets for company. Now that the sun was down, the heat of the day was fading.

Flynn spread out the blanket on the bank and opened the basket.

“Champagne?” Pru asked. “Are we celebrating something?”

“I hope we will be.”

What does that mean? she wondered.

Instead of opening it immediately, he nestled the bottle in a notch of the rocks, submerged in the cool water, setting a pair of glasses on the bank above. Then he pulled off his shirt and Pru was distracted from anything else but the way his bare chest gleamed in the moonlight. A dusting of dark hair narrowed to a trail that disappeared into the waistband of the jeans he’d already unbuttoned. She itched to touch, to feel the warmth of his skin beneath her palms, against her own bare flesh.

Flynn caught her looking and grinned. “You’re looking at me like I’m an ice cream sundae on the hottest day of summer.”

“Well, now you’re just making me think about licking chocolate sauce off your abs.”

“We’ll add it to the list.”

Pru reached for her own shirt, tugging it up and off. “We have a list?”

“To be sure. I’ve been adding to it by the day. But you started it here, that night of Kennedy’s wedding, with the invitation to go skinny dipping. Why was that?”

“Here in particular or with you?”

“Well, I hope it was with me because you couldn’t resist my roguish charm.” As he spoke, Flynn shucked his jeans and Pru got a very clear view of his…charm.

“Um.” What were they talking about?

He laughed and jumped into the water. A moment later, he surfaced, black hair slicked back like a seal. “So, really, why skinny dipping?”

“Oh.” She stripped out of the rest of her own clothes. “Because I’d never done it before. Never even thought of doing it. It always seemed reckless, and I don’t do reckless. I don’t know when that started to bother me.”

She leapt, splashing into the spring and losing her breath. Compared to the warm night air, the water closing over her head was one step above frigid. She broke the surface on a gasp. “Holy crap, this is so much colder at night!”

Flynn swam the few feet over and snagged her around the waist, hauling her back against his body. “So, you thought you’d be a little reckless. And how does it feel now?”

Her back pressed to his chest, and his hands splayed across her belly, holding her in place and relieving her of the need to do much more than kick a little to stay afloat. She tipped her head back against his shoulder, looking past the canopy of trees up to the star-studded sky. “It feels…decadent. And a little wicked.”

He

pressed a kiss to her ear and slid one hand a little further south. “I think we can do better than a little wicked.”

“I’m counting on it.” She wiggled a little, trying to urge his hand lower.

“But first—” Flynn spun her around in his arms, settling his hands at the small of her back. “—there are things I need to say.”