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John literally growls. And I think I like it.

“On a scale of 1-10, how bad is your sunburn today?”

“Niiine.”

He hums, then scribbles on his clipboard. “Seaweed wraps have anti-inflammatory properties and are ideal for sunburns. It hydrates and replenishes the moisture in your skin, speeding up the recovery process by healing the damaged skin cells. It’s packed with vitamins and minerals too. Are you ready to get started?”

He starts by gently exfoliating my skin, but I notice he uses a little more force on John. “Now for the seaweed paste.”

“It’s a paste? I thought I would be wrapped in seaweed.”

The therapist chuckles. “No, no. I apply the mud to your body, then wrap you in a special blanket to increase the absorption of the seaweed and its nutrients in your body.”

John chimes in, “Maybe we could wrestle in the mud.” His eyes are vibrant even in the dim light of the room.

I shake my head at his innuendo, but it would be fun to slip and slide on John, then take a shower.

The timer is set for forty minutes and for the first ten, we’re both silent. The therapist had left the room but periodically comes in to check on us and give us the remaining time. Soon, I feel the heat leaving my body, and the ache in my skin is nearly gone.

“I told your brother that we’re staying inside today. Would you like to go to a movie? It’ll be cool,” he says, coaxing me with his svelte voice.

“Are you asking me on a date, Basilio?”

“I am.”

“Then the answer is yes.”

I can’t quit smiling as I look up at the ceiling, covered in decorative tile.

When the therapist returns this time, he washes the seaweed mud off, a little at a time, then blankets our skin with oil.

“Ten minutes, then you dress.” He sets another timer.

We put our clothes back on and when John bends over, pulling on his shorts, his ass is nothing short of amazing, complete with the dimples in the small of his back. It’s round and firm—simply irresistible. I sneak up on him and slap his butt.

He rotates around with a mischievous grin. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

“Oh, I’ll finish it.”

He wraps his arms around me, and it doesn’t hurt. “When?”

I just smile and we go about our day filled with air conditioning, a movie, and a late lunch overlooking the ocean. “I think I’ll get lobster,” I say, twisting my lips, thinking I’m funny.

“Sticking with your own kind, huh?” He leans back, covering his mouth with his fist, laughing. “Kidding, Order whatever you want. It’s on me.”

“Haha. This place is all inclusive.”

“Okay, but I did pay for the movie and popcorn.”

I tap the umbrella garnishing my virgin strawberry daiquiri. “True. Our first date.”

He leans over, softly pecking me on the mouth. “It’s the first of many dates, Becca.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

John

The sun beats down on my chest as I lie back in the beach lounger with my hands cupped behind my neck. It’s been two days since Becca burnt herself to a crisp, and I’ve rarely left her side, except yesterday, when she did another seaweed wrap with the girls. Instead of doing it in a dark room, five of the women were soaked in mud on the veranda of the spa, partially covered with lightweight fabric woven through the wooden beams and hanging loosely. The guys and I played another round of golf, then we met them on the veranda and had a few drinks.