Her gaze shifts to Xavier, then me. “And I’m impressed with your choice of a man after all you went through. You deserve someone as respectable as your handsome officer here.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Xavier
says.
As soon as the woman moves on, Xavier gives the back of my neck a squeeze and murmurs, “Did you hear that? She called me respectable and handsome.”
He never fails to make me laugh, even in the worst situation.
Xavier holds my hand until we hit the dock and I pull away. I’m glad the light is dim out here so he can’t read my expressions so easily. He always seems to know what I’m thinking.
I step onto the deck of my boat, where one soft porch light reveals several shipping boxes stacked beside my front door. Bodhi’s books.
Fucking fantastic.
I put my hands against my cheeks and blow out a breath. “The next ten days are going to suck so hard.”
“They don’t have to,” Xavier says.
I drop my hands. “You’re right, they don’t have to. Look, I know you were trying to do something good tonight, but in the future, I’d appreciate it if you’d consult me before jumping in and messing with my life.”
His mouth kicks up on one side. “I don’t recall having enough time for a consultation. Besides, you seemed to be…struggling.”
“Only because he blindsided me.”
“Which is exactly why I stepped in. I am trained in blindsiding—the giving and the getting.” He slides his fingers into a space on the top box and pries it open. “What’s in here?”
I sigh and cross my arms. “His books.”
Xavier pulls one out and frowns at the title. “Grounded Spirituality. Not exactly catchy. What are you supposed to be doing with them, again?” He shoots me an evil grin. “Bonfire?”
I laugh. “Bonfire has real merit, but no. I’m putting them in the welcome bags, which means, if I want to stay autonomous, I have to pull mine out.”
He drags his uniform shirt from his pants and starts unbuttoning it. The move strikes me as intensely intimate, and nerves prickle in my gut. “What are you doing?”
“Getting comfortable.” He tosses his shirt over the railing, then yanks at the Velcro on his body armor, lifts it over his head, and adds it to the railing, leaving him in a perfectly fitting white tee.
“Whoa.” I hold out a hand. “That’s as comfortable as you get, Wilde.”
“You didn’t seem to mind me getting comfortable at Wanderlust.”
“Whole different purpose.” And, damn, I don’t need a reminder.
I try—really try—to keep my gaze off his chest. Not only do I fail miserably, but I can’t seem to keep myself from scanning his abs and the way his uniform pants hang easily on his narrow hips. I can’t keep my mind from swinging back to that moment earlier today, when all he wore was a sheet, and I felt like I was standing on a cliff edge—a cliff edge spanning a cavern with something on the other side that actually makes me want to jump.
“No need to get comfortable here,” I tell him. “You can head home.”
“I’m not leaving you with all this.” He gestures to the boxes. “What kind of shitty boyfriend would do that?”
Something skips in my stomach. “Don’t get used to that title. We both know you’re going to shed it the second these ten days are over.” I narrow my eyes. “You do realize that you can’t date anyone else while you’re supposedly dating me, right? If that got out, it would be worse than people thinking I took Bodhi back. It would look like—”
“You’re a repeat offender. I get it.” His gaze turns inquisitive. “Is that what all your resistance with me has been about? Me dating other women? Because I’ve told you I would drop everyone else for you in a heartbeat.”
I’ve deftly danced around saying just that, because even if he did say he only wanted me, I wouldn’t believe him. That’s exactly what Bodhi told me, and look how that turned out. And he’s most definitely not said he’d stop seeing other women. But even if he had, I wouldn’t have taken him up on it. Once a playboy, always a playboy.
“And, I can’t lie.” He steps close, tucks a knuckle under my chin, and lifts my gaze to his. “That kiss turned my head, beautiful. Let’s just double-check on that chemistry.”
He lowers his head, and I put a hand against his chest, leaning away. “Hard pass.”