“Oh, um, yeah …” He was reminded again of her intense reaction when he’d taken his shirt off last night. He didn’t want to swim in a shirt, but he wanted her to be comfortable around him. Pulling off his shoes and socks, he waded into the water.
“Goodness’ sakes,” Cosette sputtered, staring at him. “You can take your shirt off.”
Isaac stopped in the knee-deep water. “I didn’t want to … you were so shaken last night by it.”
Cosette’s mouth pressed into a line. “I’m sorry. It’s fine. Take your shirt off. I just won’t look.”
“Okay.” Isaac pulled his shirt off and tossed it at the shore.
He pushed through the warm water and then dove under. They swam out for a ways and then treaded water. It felt great, except that Cosette studiously avoided looking at him.
“You could look at me now, since I’m under the water,” he said.
“Oh.” She forced a smile. “Yeah, that’s right.” Finally, she turned her gaze to him.
“So you have issues with men’s chests?” he asked.
“No!” she protested, narrowing her eyes at him, or maybe it was just bright out here. “I just don’t want to be … ogling you as if you’re a piece of meat because you’re so beautifully built and stuff.” She clamped her mouth shut and swam away from him. “I’m going to go shower and start breakfast,” she called over her shoulder.
Isaac wanted to follow her, but he didn’t. She thought he was beautifully built? He wished he could tell her exactly how beautiful she was. As she waded through the water and the tank top and shorts clung to her nicely shaped body, he made himself look out at the ocean. She’d said she didn’t want to ogle him, and he felt guilty because he definitely wanted to ogle her.
He pushed a hand over his face. This week was going to be a long one.
* * *
Cosette rinsed out her clothes and hung them on hooks in the bathroom, then took a long shower. She wanted Isaac to take her seriously as a woman, yet she couldn’t even look at his bare chest. And he thought she cared about how she smelled but not how she looked? That was unflattering. And then there was the way he’d been facing out at the ocean treading water as she turned to look before she climbed the porch steps. If a man wanted a woman, wouldn’t he be checking her out every chance he got? She knew a relationship shouldn’t be based on physical attraction, but there should be attraction, right? She sighed. She and Isaac had no relationship beyond him being a family friend and offering to protect her. She should stop blowing things out of proportion, as she often did when it came to people and their unexpected reactions. Chemical reactions were more reliable.
She got dressed and put on minimal makeup. Isaac had said that she didn’t care about how she looked, and that was hurtful, though she didn’t think he’d meant it to be. Of course she cared; it just wasn’t her focus like a lot of other women she knew. She admired women like Mar for taking such good care of themselves, but shopping and makeup were like a foreign language to her. At least she tried. She exercised, ate right, and used some of the makeup Mar had helped her buy when Cosette had begged for help one day. She dressed a lot more simply than someone like Mar, who was always dolled up and dressed to impress with her spike heels, but Cosette had hoped that Isaac might like a simpler woman. It didn’t look like it. He kept calling her “adorable.”
When she exited the bathroom, he was waiting. His shorts were wet but not dripping, and his chest was … bare. Cosette steeled herself. She could do this. She could stare at his beautiful chest, check him out, and not act like a child about it. Taking her time, she let her eyes slide over his muscles and languidly make their way to his face.
His blue eyes twinkled with amusement, and he was smiling broadly at her. “Ogling?” he asked.
“Ah!” she gasped. “I triednotto ogle. You tell me what I’m supposed to do when you’re standing right in front of me!”
He chuckled and flexed his chest, the muscles popping right before her eyes. She blinked in awe, and her eyebrows shot up.
“Ogle all you want. I don’t mind,” he said.
So he didn’t mind if she stared at him, but he obstinately turned away when he had the opportunity to stare at her? That didn’t seem right, but what did she know? She blew out a breath of frustration and hurried around him, focusing on something safe. “Omelets okay for breakfast?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
She rushed to the kitchen section of the main area and started pulling onions, peppers, and mushrooms out of the crisper drawer of the industrial-size fridge. As she piled it all on the small island, she decided that she really liked this kitchen.
When she looked back, she startled. Isaac was watching her just outside the bathroom, still looking glorious in nothing but his shorts.
“Oh!” she gasped. He looked so good, it took all of her self-restraint not to rush across the room and push him up against the bathroom door, kiss his neck like she had last night, taste the salt water on his skin, and then get brave and explore those lovely lips of his.
His lips turned up in a smile. With a salute, he turned and walked into the bathroom.
Cosette didn’t move. She could hardly breathe. Was he just playing with her? Was he interested? What would a woman with experience do in such a situation? Was it kosher to demand to know if he was into her? Probably not. Where was Mar when she needed her?
Pulling out a cutting board, she started slicing an onion, breathing in the sharp stench. Her eyes stung, and then tears came. Pathetically, she was about ready to cry over the frustration of the entire situation, not just the onion.