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“You don’t have a plan. This wasmyplan.” A good one, too.

He shakes his head. “Fine, princess. Have it your way. I’m adapting toyourplan.”

“I only have one towel.”

“So? Way I see it, that makes it even easier to sell.”

The incoming boat motor roars loud enough now to drown out the squawking gulls overhead.

With any luck, Dean will slip and fall overboard.

“It’s hot as heck on the deck. Not my problem if you want to burn your abs, though.”

“No, it’s hot as hell. And besides, I thought we could share.” His grin is slow, sexy, and all too tempting. “That is, if you have room on there for all the abs you’ve noticed.” He trails one hand over his stomach, and I look away quickly as he goes lower, to the band of his shorts.

“Excuse me?” I splutter.

Smooth, June, real smooth.

“You said distraction. Let’s give them one, you know, make it believable.”

My eyes narrow, but I don’t have time to react.

Dean’s body covers mine, blocking the heat of the sun… but replacing it with an entirely different kind of heat. I watch with rounded eyes as he holds himself up in a plank position perfect enough to make any Pilates devotee jealous. His arm snakes around my waist, and before I can throw it off, he’s flipped me onto my back. His other cradles the back of my head, tangling in my hair.

Ooohhhh.

This is nice.

I melt into him, living for the way he makes me feel safe and protected.

Desirable.

I can’t look away, can’t even think about the sound of the boat drawing closer. The half-smile on his lips, his intense focus on me, makes the world fall away. My breasts graze his bare chest, his knees on either side of me.

It isn’t until my hands are tangled around his neck that I realize he now has the shotgun. The whole thing a ruse, designed to get the gun from me. Again.

“Ugh, you mother—” I start to yell, completely annoyed.

“Shhh,” he tells me, and when his lips faintly brush against mine, I can’t help but comply.

Out of shock. That’s all.

The sound of the approaching motor dies, replaced by Jimmy Buffett crooning about fins on the other boat’s speakers.

Even the incongruous sound of Jimmy Buffett can’t stop the desire pooling deep inside. Dean flashes a full smile at me, triumph in his eyes at having the literal upper hand. Unwilling to be outdone, to lose this little battle, I make a split-second decision.

Tugging his head down, I feel a flash of victory as his breath ghosts across my lips, shock clear on his face. Closing my eyes, I press my mouth against his, nibbling his lower lip, throwing a leg over his waist.

His mouth opens slightly, and I moan against him.

It unleashes something in him, and he lowers himself further onto me.

Oooh boy. I’m in trouble now.

The pressure from his big body is delicious against mine, and I writhe, trying to escape the ache screaming for more.

“I don’t know, man, it doesn’t look like he needs help,” a southern voice drawls. “Evans, you need a hand?”