“What’s your presentation about?” he asked, stepping closer while my drink was being made.
“Oh, just…” I waved my hand. “Just a tech product. It’s a piece of a larger whole, really. Like a widget.”
“A widget…”
“Yeah, like a…” I paused as the bartender put my drink on the bar. “Oh no, sorry. I need it in a plastic cup. It’s for the beach.”
The bartender gave me an annoyed look before he grudgingly turned back.
The man next to me grimaced and then smiled, watching as the bartender grabbed a plastic cup and unceremoniously upended the drink. Limes and garnish shipwrecked at the bottom with the ice and were then drowned in alcohol.
“Thanks,” I said, taking the drink.
“Seven fifty,” the bartender said.
“Cool.” I paused, waiting for the receipt that would let me charge it to my room. When it didn’t come, I leaned forward and murmured, “I just need to charge it to my room…”
His scowl deepened. “For seven fifty?”
“It’s just…” I patted my boobs as though they were pockets. “I didn’t bring my wallet. I don’t have any cash on me—”
“Here.” The man next to me reached forward with a ten-dollar bill.
“Oh, no,” I said. “Seriously, it’s okay.” I placed my palm on his bicep and then jerked back when a surge of electricity zipped up my arm. “I can just order some food or another drink.”
“It’s fine. He’s not in the mood, I can tell.” The man leaned toward the bar with a shockingly handsome smile. “Keep the change.”
His large palm fell on my shoulder, the touch stutter-stopping my complaints while turning me toward the rolling ocean. “Let me take you back. Here.” He took the drink and then showed me his back again. “Hop on.”
Before I could remind myself why it was a bad idea, I wrapped my arms around his broad shoulders and did as he asked. “You shouldn’t be so eager to give out piggybacks, you know,” I said as he started forward. “A nervous rider might squeeze too tight, cutting off your air supply. Then where would you be?”
“Passed out on the hot sand, probably, while you towel-hopped away.”
I laughed. “Probably, yeah.”
“You want a sip for the road?” he asked, holding up the drink.
“I can wait, thanks.”
I tried to ignore the vibration in my core from his heat and movement. I also tried to ignore his smell—coconut, sun, and man. And I certainly tried to ignore them all mixed together, which was some kind of tantalizing scent that shouldn’t be wafted around sexually starved single women.
“You can just put me down here,” I said as we reached my broken flip-flops.
His friend smiled up at me. “Got it?”
“Got…what’s that now?” Dawning realization struck me. “Oh! Yes, I got the drink. Thanks.”
“Here.” The man jumped to his feet and grabbed my flip-flops before handing them up.
Another nice body. Good Lord, they probably subsisted on kale and sex to get that sculpted look.
“Thanks—” I took the shoes and saluted with them.
Moments later, we were underway again, and piggyback guy said, “Which towel is yours?”
“Just…” I clutched tighter with one hand so I could point with the other. “The white one.”
The beach was a sea of white towels. Just call me a genius.
“I mean…the…single white one.” I wagged my finger in the air, as if that would help. “With a pile of clothes next to it. I probably should’ve folded them…”
He must’ve understood me, because he cut a path through the sunbathers and stopped next to my messy layout. “No computer?” he asked.
“I just brought the slide printouts. I didn’t want to risk bringing a computer to the beach.” As he released me, my body twisted in such a way that when my front slid down his back, my bikini rode up my chest. The underwire caught at about my nipples, giving me a boob sandwich.
“Oh my God!” I hastily showed him my back as I yanked it down, belatedly remembering the leering old man two towels over. Aghast, I jerked the other way and bowed in on myself, righting the fabric.
“Here,” he said, pushing in close and surrounding me with his body and arms. “I’ll shield you.”
“I got it,” I said in a rush, checking my bottoms. “Thanks.” I took my drink. “For the ride and for the drink.”
“How are you going to get back to the hotel?” he asked, still pushed in close.
I stepped further back on my towel. “Let’s hope I’m too drunk to feel it, huh?” I gave him a cheeky grin. “But seriously, I’ll be fine.”
“Do you want to take my number and text me when you’re ready?”
A fierce tingle arrested me, and a nervous belly laugh threatened to explode out of my mouth. He was too close by half—and too hot for his own good. A random hookup with a guy who would be gone in the morning was the last thing I needed. Thanks to my ex, I was already hanging out on the rock bottom of “awesome.”