Page 67 of Into These Eyes
“You really shouldn’t put electronic devices so close to your, ah … delicate parts,” he mumbles.
Nope, no mistaking it. He’s blushing. Behind me, Benny snorts.
“This dress doesn’t have any pockets,” I explain.
Gavin indicates his shorts. “I’ve got plenty. Let me take it.”
I shrug, and as I reach into the top of my dress and fumble around in my bra, he makes no effort to hide the fact that he’s watching my every move. Is he imagining it’s his hand down my top?I find that idea surprisingly appealing.
When I pass the fob over, he turns it in his hand a few times, like he’s absorbing the warmth left behind by my body. Catching me staring, he quickly shoves it into the front pocket of his shorts.
“Did you just put it right next your … delicate bits?” I ask, unable to keep the grin off my face.
He smirks back at me for a moment, then reaches into his pocket and pulls it out. “Well, that was stupid.”
“Christ on a cracker, give me the bloody thing,” Benny grumbles, snatching the fob from Gavin. “No one’s gonna care what happens to mydelicate bits.” He shoves it in his back pocket and strides off toward the beach.
“He seems a bit grumpy.”
Gavin tries to suppress a laugh, but I’m not quite as successful. “Only when he thinks I’m being an idiot,” he says, indicating that we should follow.
As we stroll side by side, I find myself waiting for that reassuring hand of his to rest against my back, and when it doesn’t happen, I want to kick myself for being disappointed.
After we make our way from the soft, uneven grains to the damp, firmly packed sand at the water’s edge, he moves closer, our arms brushing against one another. And I can’t be sure if my heart’s beating a little harder because of the contact, or the exertion of walking through soft sand.
“So,” he says, “Bennie and the Jets. You know that’s a song about a woman, right?”
I glance at him, surprised he heard me, let alone took any notice. “Oh, it’s not that. When I first started work, I had a hardtime remembering everyone’s names, so I learnt to use those word association tricks.” I shrug. “It’s become a habit.”
This time, the bump to my arm is deliberate. “Bet you didn’t have to do that with me.”
Along with my smile, my stomach drops. He knows as well as I do that you don’t forget the name of someone you hate.
From out of nowhere, the sea breeze hits me with a forceful gust, lifting my dress up around my waist. Mortified, I spin away from Gavin and flatten the dress over my crotch. Fumbling to cover my backside, the buffeting wind seems determined to keep the material out of reach.
Gavin’s hands suddenly grasp my hips, then travel down the outside of my thighs, bringing the dress with them as the gust peters out to a steady breeze.
Holy shit, he just saw my undies. And for the life of me, I can’t remember what pair I put on this morning.
He’s still standing behind me, his hands hot on my thighs, the front of his body so close to mine his chest brushes against my shoulder blades.
“I think it’s safe now,” I tell him, rattled by the thudding of my heart.
He releases his hold and steps to my other side, placing himself between me and the water. It’s only when we start walking again that I notice his hand resting on my back, almost as if he’s been waiting for an opportunity to naturally place it there.
“Well, that was humiliating,” I say, trying to laugh it off.
“I think you meanexhilarating.”
“Absolutely not.”
He shoots me a mischievous grin. “I guess it’s a matter of perspective. And nice …”
Was he about to say arse? “Nice what?”
“Legs,” he says. “Mine. They’re nice, right?”
I whack his upper arm, forgetting my embarrassment, loving the way he has no problem making a fool of himself. Going along with him, I pointedly stare at his legs before I nod. “They’re not too bad. Good enough for shorts, I suppose, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
