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His leg brushed hers as he reached into the bag, making her blood thrum. One of the things she loved about men’s bodies was the subtle roughness and delicious friction as her body slid against…

No, stop.

This blanket was definitely too small.

“Here,” he said.

Grateful for the dark, she unwrapped her food. The tamarind’s tang combined with the tender sweet pork was heaven and contrasted with the plantain chips’ salty seasoning.

Carson’s appreciative moan matched hers.

“Another outstanding meal.”

“You’ve got vacation taste buds,” she said.

“We studied this in school. When you’re relaxed and in a good mood, food tastes better.

It’s science. Research also shows being close to the ocean’s blues has a beneficial effect on social, cognitive, and emotional well-being. So, we’re winning with a beach picnic.”

He popped a plantain chip. “Company’s not bad, either.”

“Yep, I’m a delight. You on the other hand…”

“Total nightmare.” After a few quiet minutes of ravenous consumption, he held out his hand for her trash. “Finished?”

She dropped the wrapper into his hand. “Yes, thanks.”

He crumpled them together, then heaved himself up. The deepening twilight didn’t offer much light but allowed enough for her to check him out as he ambled to a trash can at the crowd’s edge.

Relaxation also triggered imagination.

Oh, the things she was imagining. This morning, she could’ve peeled the sheet back from where it tented around his hips.

His wicked grin would’ve encouraged her to kneel between his thick thighs and enthusiastically swirl her tongue around his cock.

Loving the feel of him, she’d take his shaft in, deep, deeper, deeper still.

With varied pressure, speed, and depth, she’d learn what he liked, where he wanted her hands. When he was close—because he would come for her—she’d slow, go softer, and focus on the ridges under the head until he lost his mind, clutched her hair, and shouted her name.

Carson Miller, bane of her existence, star of her fantasies, dropped onto the blanket.

She tried not to notice his thick leg against hers.

“Is that…” Carson cocked his ear toward the stage. “A reggae version of ‘I’m Not in Love’? The 10cc song?”

Guess his dad wasn’t the only one who loved yacht rock.

“Yeah.” Julia scrunched her toes in the sand. “Thank you for making me do this.”

“I knew you’d like it. It kills me that I might’ve met the real concert-going, foodie, beach bum you if I hadn’t been an asshole in high school.”

She tucked her hair behind her ear. “You met the real me.”

“Not all of you. Just the study-hungry part. Back then you paid more attention to books than you did to me.”

“Needy much? Also, that’s not true. I paid attention to you, but I couldn’t go to college without scholarships. Ergo, books.”

He leaned his shoulder against hers. “Go back to the you-paying-attention-to-me part.”

“ Everyone paid attention to you.” Warmth fanned over her. “Except they didn’t see you working to catch up when you played travel league or your motivation crumpling when your mom texted that you should practice because the coach called to say you’d dropped a pop fly.”

His shoulders stiffened.

Shit, shouldn’t have said that. Texts from his mom flashed on his phone during their study sessions.

As soon as he saw them, he’d shut down. Julia had wanted to ask him about it, show him she cared but instead pretended not to see them.

She didn’t want him to think she was nosy, and parent relationships were generally off-limits.

She’d known better than to dredge up mommy issues. She had enough of her own.

Desperate to escape this uncomfortable silence, she asked, “Anything else you want to know? Now’s your chance.”

“No.” Carson thumbed his chin. “Wait, I take it back. Did your wild Belize alter ego ever attempt sex on the beach?”

She snorted. “Nope. Too many horror stories about chafing.”

An unseasonably cold breeze from the ocean cut across them, raising the gooseflesh on her arms. She hugged her knees to her chest.

“Are you cold?” he asked.

“It’s fine. I—”

“I’ve got this.” He scooted behind her, and before she knew it, he was the big spoon. Wait, no. Not spooning, since they were sitting. Ladling? Whatever this was, it set her back and arms on fire. His whole self was right there, surrounding her, engulfing her.

“Better?” He rubbed her biceps.

She swallowed. “Yes.”

“The stars are amazing out here.” He shifted behind her. “You should look.”

Her read on social situations wasn’t perfect, but there was only one interpretation here: Carson Miller was hitting on her.

And…she wasn’t mad about it.

She tipped her head back against his shoulder. Stars winked like scattered ice chips across the inky dark sky. If she squinted, she could make out the Milky Way’s mist. These were the skies she missed, the ones she hadn’t found outside of Belize.

“See what I mean?” he asked.

The music shifted to a tempo that matched her pounding heart. With her toes buried in the sand, her younger spirit, the one that took chances, bloomed.

What a fool she’d be to deny herself a kiss with Carson Miller

Here, on the beach and under the stars, they were simply two people who reconnected after ten years. That would change when their parents married, so she’d better to do this now. She twisted from his embrace until she was kneeling in the harbor of his legs.

“Yes?” he asked with a smile.

“Sorry.”

He raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

“This.” She planted her mouth on his.

Oh, hell, this was better than her fantasies. His soft moan sent desire pinging through her, from her head to her heart to her hips and knocking every place in between. He caught her to him, then shifted. In one smooth move, he laid her against the cool, firm sand.

Whew, that wasn’t all that was firm. Unmistakable hardness lodged against her hip.

She wanted him, all of him, and he wanted her, and that was…absolutely not possible.

What the hell was she doing?

“Hey, so, thanks.” Julia shimmied out from under him. “I’ve gotta go. Away. From here.”

She’d snapped under the pressure, and now she was back in her right mind. There were so many people around, people who could’ve seen them, who might recognize her. She grabbed her sandals from the bag.

“Julia, wait.” Carson caught her knee, his hand hot and big on her body.

“No.” She backed away from his grip. “Stay. Enjoy the music. Have fun.”

“Not without you, I’m not.”