Page 13 of The Catch

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”

“Everyone has a story.”

“Well, now that I’ve passed thenot a creep testand thenot married test, maybe you can tell me some of yours.”

Cat’s throat burned as a bitter memory swirled in her belly. “It’s not all that different, really. Someone promised me something once, and they didn’t mean it.”

“An ex?”

“Yup.” She almost laughed at how simple she could make it sound, her whole life screeching to a halt, but it was enough detail for this conversation.

The ocean swell rocked into them, and Josh clasped her elbow, keeping them tethered. “How about we talk about something lighter?” he said.

This time his smile made it all the way to his eyes, and the tension the conversation had brought to her neck released. Lighter was good. Talking about anything but Micah was good.

“What do you want to—oh my god!” Something slippery brushed against her calf, and she kicked her feet and screamed, launching herself at Josh.

He grabbed ahold of the running board, and caught her with his free hand, searching her face. “What is it?”

“Fish! Or… I don’t know.” She hooked her legs around his waist, so whatever it was wouldn’t mistake her feet for lunch.

Josh fought off a laugh, and her cheeks started to burn. She looked down at the way she was clinging to him, suddenly wishing she still had that vest on. Her heart was still racing from the conversation about Micah—the intimacy she’d let build between them—and now her chest was pressed against his, sans foam barrier, and she could barely pull in enough air.

“Is it gone?” he asked.

She slowly stretched out her legs, and when she didn’t feel anything swimming around down there, she breathed out. “I think so.”

He didn’t let go, though, and since she was there and already looking foolish, she slid her hands down the slope of his arms, stealing a touch. Her fingertips glided over the drops of water beading on his sun-warmed skin, exploring the curve of his biceps, the tight cording of his forearms.

Josh tilted his head, his smile straightening, and his eyes dropped to her mouth. He was going to kiss her, and her whole body was betraying her—her fingers squeezing his arms, her chin tipping without her permission. She just wanted to see how those full lips felt on hers, that dark stubble on her cheek. Just one taste.

Josh raised an eyebrow—a silent ask—but just when she’d resigned herself to bad vacation choices and things she could blame on sunstroke, a hum that she’d been vaguely aware of while she was hypnotized turned to a roar.

Then a wall of water rained down on them.

“Time’s up!” Dylan called over his shoulder as they sped by.

Josh let her go, wiping the water from his face while she rung out her ponytail and forced her heart from her throat. He took her hand again, holding it beneath the water. “What’s your plan tonight, Cat? Can I see you again?”

She stuttered. Whatever spell she’d been under had been broken by their impromptu shower, and now she only wanted to get back to shore and forget how she’d almost just kissed a stranger in the middle of the ocean. “Like I said, Sonya has us on a schedule,” she said, deflecting. “But it’s a small area, maybe I’ll see you around.” Her words were breathy, her pulse pounding. She was not pulling this off.

Josh’s eyes flashed with amusement. “You’re going to make me search the whole strip for you?”

“It’s not that big.” She grabbed his wrist, checking the face of his expensive-looking diver’s watch. “Dylan’s right. Time’s almost up.”

“Yeah,” he said, his smile fading. “Okay.”

Four

“You gonna call her?” Dylanasked as he ran a hand through his hair for the umpteenth time, preening for the mirror.

Josh grabbed a slice of pizza from the delivery box on the coffee table, stretching out as much as he could on the hotel room’s half-sized couch. After they’d dropped Cat and her friends back at the beach, they’d wasted the rest of the afternoon nursing mild sunburns, and watching baseball and drinking beer in the air conditioning. Now they were waiting for Shawn to get back with a bottle of scotch he’d promised them after inviting himself to stay on their couch for the weekend.

“I will if I don’t run into her first,” he said. “It’s not a big place.” Though he hadn’t agreed when Cat had given him that line. She’d been flirting, giggling even, and he was sure that in that brief moment when she was trying to escape a fish, and he’d gotten to press her body against his chest, she was going to let him kiss her.

But the minute he’d asked to see her again, she’d shut down.

When he’d asked if he could at least have her number, he wasn’t sure she would have said yes if Sonya hadn’t have been standing there, fixing her with a very loaded stare.

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