And now she was staring at him. Because… he was supposed to be looking up something on his phone. “Nail salon. Got it.”
“Beauty salon. Are you sure you packed your brain this morning?”
“Pretty sure. You wanna check?” He tilted his head toward her, totally curious what that would look like. As long as it involved her putting her hands on him, it was all good.
But she just laughed. “I don’t have X-ray vision. Though wouldn’t that be cool?”
Yeah, unless he was using his to survey a building full of ISIS dickheads with machine guns. The thermal scanner equipment he got to use on a regular basis wasn’t the slightest bit sexy, so he changed the subject readily by tapping his phone and holding up the search he’d just done on Green Cay establishments with Shore in the title. “It’s a hotel.”
“Shampoo.”
They said it at the same time, and her huge grin tripped through his heart with a fair amount of warmth. Very nice. She could do that about a hundred more times, no problem.
But then she leaned over and grabbed his phone to hold it steady as she pulled up directions. Since he was still holding the phone too, her fingers threaded with his and he couldn’t find a thing to complain about.
Yep. His gut was definitely steering him in the right direction. Now he just needed to figure out how to steer her away from the hunt and toward a place that was a little more secluded.
“It’s about half a mile down the beach,” she announced. “We can walk. Come on.”
She vaulted from the bench and took off toward the street that ran parallel to the water outside the marina. Another team came into view ahead of them as they left the marina parking lot and went left onto a small walkway to the side of the road.
“Look, we’re not too far behind,” she said with a nod and picked up her pace. “Let’s run.”
“In flip-flops?” He eyed her cute pink thong sandals. “You’re a fan of broken legs?”
“Maybe I was hoping you’d carry me,” she shot back.
Well. She knew how to flirt after all. Or she was serious. Either way… “Is that an official request?”
“Ha. I was kidding. And maybe a little jealous of Thora,” she admitted. “Men gravitate to her all the time, and she’s the kind of girl men readily gather up into their arms. I’m not.”
God, could the woman be any more of an open book that was impossible to read?
“Come on. You’re killing me. Really? No man has ever swept you off your feet?”
Smooth, moron. That was literally what she’d just said. But she didn’t seem bothered by his idiocy and simply shook her head.
“I should probably shut up, right?” she asked with a self-deprecating laugh. “Way to make myself sound appealing. Not that I’m trying to! I mean…”
She trailed off and managed to look so miserable that he couldn’t stand it. “Lilah.”
She glanced over her shoulder to where he’d stopped dead in the center of the walkway and turned, brows raised. Maybe he should clue her in that her T-shirt had pulled a tiny bit off center to show a sliver of her silky bra strap. It was pink. Nice. Which was exactly why he kept his mouth shut about it.
“Let’s get something straight,” he said instead. “There is no good reason that you haven’t had more experiences you can handle. You deserve them all. Romantic ones. Sexy ones. Men skywriting your name in hopes you’ll glance in their direction. A hundred flowers delivered to you every day for a week.”
Her gaze never left his as she listened to what was God-honest truth like she’d never considered any of this before. Which was crap. And a complete indictment of his gender.
“I thought you were going to pick me up,” she murmured, clearly disappointed.
Which stabbed him right through the heart. “Make no mistake. I’ve got that one tucked away where it won’t get lost. I’ll pull it out when the time is right. But now ain’t it.”
If he put his hands on her at this moment, all bets were off.
“Okay,” she agreed so readily that he groaned.
Didn’t she know how this worked? She was supposed to ask him to put his hands on her, and if she did, he totally would.
This race was going to make him insane.
“Shampoo bottle,” he croaked.
Once they had that in hand, then he could maybe deal with the undercurrents swirling between them. She clearly had no idea how much he wanted to make good on tasting her. The question was what she’d do with it when he introduced her to the concept.
Guilt still gnawed away at Lilah’s nerves, which were already frayed from Fitz. He laughed, she jumped. He touched her, she flinched. He breathed on her, she shivered. Getting some traction on this race didn’t seem likely if that’s how it was going to be.