Page 32 of Undeniably Unexpected (Boston’s Irresistible Billionaires #6)

I ’m bouncing on a neon pink pool noodle in the middle of the pool, trying not to think about what this day has been and what it’s brought.

I still don’t know how to process any of it.

If I should even try or just go with the flow for once in my life.

Not think about consequences or tomorrow.

I’m treating this as a vacation, after all.

You know… what happens on the island stays on the island.

I’m not stupid enough to imagine I’ve miraculously reformed the bad boy movie star and made him a one-woman man all about commitment. That sort of thing only happens, well, in the movies and books, but never in real life.

I didn’t even call Kenna or Katy for a freak-out session.

The truth is, I’m not sure I want them to know.

I don’t want to deal with their freak-out in return.

I don’t want to answer questions I don’t know the answers to, and I don’t want their rational, buzz-killing opinions.

Right now, this is mine—kind of like my writing—and bringing someone else into that…

taints it. Ruins it even. I don’t know if he’s going to tell Tinsley, but I’m hoping he doesn’t.

I’m going to have a fling with a hot, tattooed, bad boy movie star. And right now, I have no regrets about it.

Certainly not with how freaking good the sex was.

Or the cuddling after. That was undeniably unexpected. Sort of like Loomis has been.

I expected him to shoot off the bed or make apologies or say, well, that was great, but I’ll see you later . He didn’t do any of that. He held me and ran his fingers through my hair and talked to me about all that had transpired that morning and his hopes for when he returns to Boston for Fen.

Then round three happened, which was just as incredible as rounds one and two. After that we got dressed, Fen woke up, and now here we are. Fake relationship and real sex.

The sun is doing that aggressive tropical thing where it’s both blissful and personally offensive at the same time.

I’m lathered in SPF50, but something tells me it’s no match for blinding sunlight.

I keep scooting the noodle forward with my feet, aiming for the sliver of shade from the one tall palm tree on the other side of the pool, but it only works for a minute as I start to float back toward the center.

Loomis sits at the edge of the pool in a button-down shirt, which feels a bit formal for the setting.

It’s unbuttoned, and the sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, showing off six-pack abs and inked forearms that I can’t drag my gaze away from for long.

Fen is in a floatie shaped like a cartoon turtle that we found in a shed off the back of the house, looking extremely happy with the entire situation.

Especially as a rooster comes waltzing by.

I cringe even as I’m growing more accustomed to them. Something I never imagined possible.

Fuck, I hate birds. Specifically birds that like to wake me up at the ass crack of dawn.

“Do you think the roosters are planning something?” I ask, because if I don’t say something completely unhinged, I’ll continue to think about today, and right now, I can’t think about today. And also so I have an excuse to stare at his arms and abs again.

“Absolutely. They’re watching us for sure.” He doesn’t even blink. Clearly, the island and the chaos of our lives have already broken him in. Or maybe he’s just getting used to how weird I can be.

I glance over to the edge of the pool, where two mangy-looking roosters are loitering under a bush like they’re just as worried about the sun and their complexion as I am. One of them cocks his head at me like he knows I hate him and is planning his early-morning retribution.

I wonder if Loomis and I will start sharing a bed. That’s probably not a good idea for many reasons. Sigh. I really do have issues shutting off my brain.

Fen lets out a series of giggles as he splashes and spins around, and it springs a smile to both Loomis’s and my lips.

“He loves the pool,” Loomis muses, reaching over and adjusting Fen’s sun hat. “I think it’s his favorite thing. I’ll have to enroll him in swim lessons when we return to Boston. Or maybe one day buy a home with a pool, though that gives me shudders with how he lacks fear of the water.”

“Understandable. Then again, he generally likes everything, especially if it’s dangerous or exciting. Fear isn’t part of his vocabulary.”

“You mean all three words he has?” Loomis teases as he shifts forward, dropping his forearms to his thighs.

“He even likes the roosters, which is crazy.”

One makes a noise that I swear sounds like a fuck you, bitch, and I flip him off. Then, thinking better of it, I squint at him and paddle myself a little closer to Loomis and Fen. Safety in numbers. Also, I like the way the water makes Loomis’s shirt cling just a little bit tighter to his chest.

“Do you think they’re unionized?” I ask.

“Without question.” As if agreeing with Loomis, somewhere in the distance, the rooster who walked by us crows. “Though I think that was rooster code for me to shut up and not talk about it. This island is definitely run by birds. It’s like Fight Club .”

I raise an eyebrow. “Cockfighting?”

He smiles, his eyes gleaming. “Now you got me.”

Three times already, and I wouldn’t mind some more . Ugh!

“I think that one’s the leader,” I whisper, nodding toward the rooster giving me the side-eye. “Probably named something intimidating. Like Clive.”

“Clive?” Loomis repeats with an unimpressed half-laugh.

“Clive is not an intimidating name. Think about the movies. You never meet a gangster or a hardened criminal with the name Clive . That one’s the decoy.

” He points toward the crowing rooster, and I knock his hand down before the bird catches on we’re talking about him.

“The real leader is lurking in the shadows over there with his mate. Probably named Reginald. He’s got a monocle and a tuxedo and everything. ”

I laugh at the imagery, and Loomis smiles, his gray eyes sparkling, reflecting the pale blue of the water.

“Reginald the Rooster,” I reflect, keeping this going. “It works for him. I take it he’s the don here. The mastermind behind our morning wake-up. He must run the whole syndicate from the top of the kapok tree.”

Loomis’s mouth twitches like he’s holding back his amusement. If he thinks my weird is off-putting, he has yet to show it.

“He only comes down to settle disputes and collect protection fees in the form of half-eaten sandwiches.”

“What?” I snort, breaking my serious storytelling mode because his bitter tone and expression indicate this part might be true.

“Yesterday while you were busy hiding under your umbrella doing secret things on your laptop, one of those wankers stole half of my sandwich. Practically right out of my hand.”

I crack up making Fen’s happy smile grow. “Really? So he orchestrated the great sandwich heist of Casa Del Sol?”

“Got away with half a ham and cheese and a packet of mayonnaise.”

“Could you imagine if it had been a chicken sandwich instead of ham?” I laugh so hard I fall off my noodle, the pink tube slipping up from between my thighs and shooting out of the water like a geyser, narrowly missing Fen, who throws his hands up in the air, delighted by the spectacle and subsequent waterworks.

“A little quick on the trigger there?” Loomis teases, throwing my words from earlier to him back in my face.

His eyes fill with blatant lust as they dance all over me as if he’s memorizing the way I look in my bikini—and imagining me out of it.

I’ve never had this before. The dirty fun part where we’re barely able to keep our hands to ourselves.

“Only around you, it seems.”

His grin is slow and dangerous, the kind that makes me forget how to breathe for a second. Naturally, my face heats as I think about how fast and how hard he made me come.

“I’m shocked that noodle didn’t want to stay precisely where it was between your thighs. If that had been me, you’d never get me to leave. Especially with the way you were riding it. I’ll have to remember that for later.”

Our eyes catch, the heat between us shifting from playful to something thicker, something that makes me squirm with butterflies tickling my insides.

His fingers slip through the water, brushing mine deliberately before trailing up my arm to my shoulder, leaving a trail of water and goose bumps as he goes.

He pulls on the strap of my top, dragging me in, his eyes on mine with a look I’ve never seen.

Now my heart is getting in on the action, beating so fast I bet he can hear it when Fen slaps the water, splashing us like he’s trying to chaperone us from his tiny turtle float.

Right. There’s a baby in the pool. Thanks for the reminder.

I adjust my waterproof brace and glance at Loomis from under my lashes but change the subject back to cocks. The safe ones, at least. “You think Reginald would let me cut a deal?”

Loomis’s voice drops lower, smooth and lazy. “Depends on what you’re after.”

I tilt my head, sliding the noodle back under me and moving in closer to him. Close enough that his knees brush against my breasts under the water. His breath catches, just barely, but I hear it.

“Protection from rival bird gangs,” I murmur. “Access to the pool’s prime shade territory. Maybe an eight a.m. wake-up instead of five.”

His eyes flicker to my mouth. “He might want unlimited access to the henhouse.”

“I’m willing to negotiate that. Maybe if you throw in a margarita and remove your shirt, we might have ourselves a deal. I mean, since you’re acting as their consigliere and brokering my deal and all.”

Loomis’s fingers wrap around my good wrist under the water. The touch is featherlight but enough to send a ripple of heat through me. His thumb skims over the inside of my wrist, and my nipples harden. Damn, I’m such a hussy for him, I don’t even stand a chance.