His thumb went still. “In a bad way?”
“No.” She shook her head. “In a confused, sexually frustrated way.”
It was his turn to laugh. “I think that’s a good thing.”
“You do?” Her brows scrunched, and he traced the curve of her cheek, the point of her chin.
Tate nodded. “The best possible thing,” he murmured just before he leaned in and kissed her. The softest, gentlest kiss. Nothing too pushy, though he wanted to push. He wanted to plunder and taste and conquer and bite and lick.
Instead he pulled away, his smile growing at the dazed look on her pretty damp face. “You want to race?” he asked.
He’d confused her now. “What?”
“Let’s race to the floating dock and back.” He nodded toward said floating dock, which all the teenagers crowded onto during the weekends. “Loser buys the winner dinner.”
She sent him a shrewd look, one full of mysterious, unsaid things. “You’re challenging me to a race?”
He nodded.
“The girl who grew up with three of the most competitive brothers in all of Wildwood.”
Uh-oh. “Yeah,” he said, the uncertainty in his voice distinct.
She grinned. Out and out grinned and thrust her fist into the air. “I’ve got this. On three?”
“Sure thing,” he said and, with a deep breath, started to count.
Wren was gone by the time three slipped past his lips. And she never looked back either. He launched after her, swimming as fast as he could, but he could never catch up to her.
He sincerely hoped that wouldn’t be a regular thing.
Chapter Twelve
“ARE YOU HUNGRY?”
Tate’s deep voice penetrated her thoughts, and she glanced up, flashing him a small smile. “Starved.”
They were back in his SUV after spending a few hours at the lake. Swimming. Lounging on the beach stretched out on the giant towels. Sending secret smiles at each other before they launched into some ridiculous conversation about life or politics or whether Harper and West should elope or not. Always in the back of her mind was that kiss. That one simple yet staggering kiss had seared her from the inside out.
Oh, and left her wanting more, though he hadn’t delivered. Damn him.
“Let’s go to the BFD for a burger.” He sent her a look. “If you’re okay with that.”
Her smile was smug, considering she won the first swimming race. And the second. The man was a good swimmer, but she was better, after being trained by her brothers her entire life.
“I’m fine with that. You’re paying after all.” He shook his head and muttered something under his breath, which only made her laugh. And he smiled too, though it was more of a smirk. A cute smirk. He was a little sunburned, his cheeks and nose red, his hair a mess and sticking up everywhere, and wow, she never thought she’d seen him look better.
She sat up straighter when she realized she was staring, but he didn’t notice. He was too busy concentrating on driving, which was a good thing. A very good thing. If she’d been driving she probably would’ve wrecked the car, and the reason would’ve been so incredibly lame.
Oh, sorry, Lane—because it would definitely be her brother who came upon the accident scene first—I was too entranced with Tate’s male beauty, and I crashed the car.
Yeah. Lame. So lame.
“I had no idea you were such a good swimmer,” Tate said, his gaze still fixed on the road.
“There are lots of things you don’t know about me.” She sounded flirtatious. The entire afternoon had felt like foreplay. Fun, yummy, sort of sexual but sort of not sexual foreplay. What would happen when they returned to his place? She already felt like she was lit from within. One look from Tate and he sent her into a slow burn. If he touched her again—or even better, kissed her again—she’d probably combust.
“True,” he said, his voice low and rumbly. It sent her nerve endings into a quiver. “Though I’d like to find all of those things out.”