Levi punched him in the arm. "We having fun yet?"
There was only one possible answer. "Hooyah."
6
Best first date ever! Guys, take note. Instead of doing the dinner-and-drinks thing (and did I mention that Fantasy Island has a very, very sexy cocktail menu?), Mr. Fantasy Fodder came by my villa super early in the morning (which wasn't so sexy-I had a serious case of bedhead) and made little old me chocolate-chip pancakes. Added bonus? Strawberries and whipped cream! Since FF was being a little standoffish (translation: insisted on keeping his hands to himself and being the perfect gentleman), I had to take offensive action, and all that whipped cream came in handy. Somehow, he ended up with a whipped cream mustache, and of course, I had to kiss it off. I'm sure he appreciated my efforts because he promptly asked me out on a date. I'm not sure where this is headed, ladies, but this is shaping up to be The Best Business Trip Ever. I'll report back soon!
-MADDIE, Kiss and Tulle
MASON SEEMED LIKE a genuinely nice guy with a rocking body. Maddie had dated her share of fun men, but she had a bad feeling that Mason was in a league of his own. The League of Supersweet Keeper Guys. If she was being honest, her area of expertise was first dates. She'd had plenty of them after all. It was making it to the second, third and fourth dates that posed a challenge. Plus, a long-term relationship was rarer than the dodo bird in her universe. Mason made her think that she had herself a bird sighting.
Besides, when had she ever held back? Mason, aka Mr. Fantasy Fodder, tempted her, so why not treat herself to a little taste of him? She was on a workcation and he was here. She saw him daily-in fact, now that she thought about it, pretty much every time she turned around-and her blog readers loved the guy. When she posted about him, her website traffic soared. Her readers had been begging for pictures, so she'd decided to tease them. She'd snapped a photo of Mason when he wasn't looking. Despite being fully dressed, he'd looked downright yummy. She'd also grabbed some extreme close-ups of the man's butt, front and every other fine attribute she could point her camera lens at. She was posting one piece a day so her readers could build their own island hottie.
She thunked her head on the bar. Okay. She had it bad for Mason, and not just because she lusted after his parts. Nope. She wanted the whole man. The warm look he got in his eyes when she said something particularly ridiculous, the killer grin he trained on her when she got him smiling, the big heart he hid just north of his six-pack abs...
"Writing not going well?" Ashley slid onto the bar stool next to her. "Nice shirt."
The writing was fine. It was her dating life that was having a crisis. She'd picked out today's outfit to take her mind off Mason and the desirability of wearing no clothes at all. The result was a white bikini with a bandage top that crisscrossed her boobs and exposed her belly button. Just in case he didn't receive the "I'm so sexy" message-because clearly he wasn't getting something-she'd wrapped herself up in a slinky and sheer-as-hell sarong and slipped on high-heeled espadrilles. As long as she didn't have to win a footrace across the beach, she was all set. Pretty clothes were like armor. Most people didn't bother to look past them.
Compliment dispensed, Ashley pointed at Maddie's laptop. "What's the topic for today?"
"I'm brainstorming blog topics." No way she'd admit that her Mason crush was currently fueling her blog's soaring popularity.
Ashley shrugged. "Why not write about the cocktail menu? The secret one," she emphasized, flicking the menu disparagingly.
"Then, it wouldn't be a secret."
"I bet lots more people would visit the resort," she pointed out, nudging her sunglasses into place.
Maddie kind of liked the idea of a secret menu. Or possibly, she didn't want to share Mason with anyone else. Not that she had him, but it wasn't for lack of trying. She had no idea how anyone could be so darn perfect and yet maintain so much distance at the same time. He'd had his tongue in her mouth, for crying out loud. That was practically a dating commitment right there.
"You could try it." Ashley flashed a cajoling smile. "Just for your readers' benefit."
"You're a bad influence...but I'll think about it. Okay?"
Ashley shrugged. "Have it your way."
Sighing, Maddie tapped a key. Pressed it again. And then again. Shoot. Her computer was sluggish today, operating on island time. Since there wasn't a Genius Bar within a hundred miles of her, she really needed her hardware to behave.
Ashley's eyes followed her finger. "Problems?"
She banged the key again. Again-nothing. "My computer is acting funky."
"Define funky." Ashley peered at her over the edge of her sunglasses.
"I don't know." She wasn't an IT professional. She turned the laptop on, she typed, she uploaded to her blog. That left plenty of uncharted territory. "Plus, the internet connection on this island sucks."
"You're on a minuscule island in the middle of a really big ocean. You're not getting a T1 connection here."
Shutting the lid, Maddie gave up on getting any more work done. She could write tonight in bed. Or tomorrow. She'd managed to feed the internet yet another picture of Mr. Fantasy Fodder, so she'd log back in later to see how her readers had reacted to the butt shot. The bartender walked by, carrying a bucket of limes, and she discreetly leaned around to give him the once-over.
Darn it. None of the few available men on the island stacked up against Mason. The bartender had been her last hope because she'd already checked the others out. One by one. Bottom line? She was desperate and pathetic-and couldn't stop thinking about Mason.
Ashley sighed. "No more work? Or is scoping out the local scenery part of your job description?"
Maddie snorted. "If you make me laugh too hard, I'll wheeze," she warned. Conveniently, she had both her inhaler and a replacement inhaler in her bag by her feet, but why break out the meds if she didn't have to? "We have to be the last two single people here," she complained when Ashley didn't say anything.
The other woman grinned. "You're not my type."
"Thanks." Maddie poked her. "Not even if the world came to an end and we were the last two people standing?"
"If zombies surround the island, I'll reconsider," Ashley promised. "So...you decided to pass on the handsome hottie chef?"
He was a really good kisser. He knew exactly how to touch her and he didn't seem to mind her sass. In fact, he seemed to like it. Like her. That possibility sent her up in flames.
"He's playing hard to get," she admitted.
"He's a guy. How hard can he be? Wait." Ashley made a face. "That sounds pornographic. I take it back."
"Too late." Having a vacation girlfriend was fun. Maddie hoped she and Ashley would stay in touch after they both left the island.
"Besides," she continued, "this is a workcation, not a vacation. I should be focusing on my blog, not getting distracted by Mason's butt."
Ashley snorted. "Granted, the man does have a great ass."
"Yeah, but how does it rank in comparison to paying the electric? I need to hit the ball out of the park on my blog, so that's where I should be focusing. Right?"
"When's the last time you had great sex?"
"Full disclosure?" Maddie considered opening the laptop again. This would make great content. "It's been so long that I'm rusty. Instead of lube, I'm going to need WD-40."
Ashley gestured toward the pool boy. He was a tall, good-looking guy, muscled but still lean. He moved with a lazy confidence that promised great sex with no strings attached, so he certainly ticked all the right boxes. Unfortunately, he was the marzipan in her sexual fantasies, pretty to look at but nothing she actually wanted to eat. Which meant she was, apparently, Team Mason all the way.
Ashley nodded knowingly, then examined the pool guy herself. "So the question is, does anybody else do it for you, or is this a Mason-specific thing?"
She knew the answer to that one.
"Stop looking at that dude's ass." Busted. Please let him not have heard that crack about his butt. A pair of hands closed over Maddie's eyes, eclipsing her view of the pool boy bending over a stack of towels and effectively blindfolding her. The move was probably unprofessional. Except-she was practically a Fantasy Island employee herself, wasn't she, if she was blogging about them for money? Did that make it better? She'd have to think about that.