Heavy footsteps smack against the tile.

I peek my eyes open to see Ben standing over me, his phone in one hand and an ice bucket in the other. The neck of a wine bottle sticks out of the top.

“You trying to get me day drunk?” I ask, eyeing up the bottle after he sets the bucket on the ledge of the tub.

Moscato. Yum.

He grins, those beautiful dimples caving in his cheeks. “Maybe a little tipsy. You’re hot as fuck when you get like that.”

“I am?”

I search my memory for the times I’ve been ‘a little tipsy’ around Ben. I can probably count those occasions on one hand. I’m not much of a drinker.

Hmm. Maybe I should start if he gets that much pleasure from it.

“Yep.” His eyes lower to the bath water. “You’re hot as fuck like that too. Just saying.”

I splash him. He takes a step back, amused, then sets his phone on the counter next to the sink.

“Who did you call?” I ask, drawing my knees closer to my body.

Ben reaches over his shoulder and grips his shirt, peeling it off. He tosses it onto the floor. “Reed. Asked him how much it would cost me to give you one of these tubs at home. Wanted to know if he could help me install it.”

I gape at him. “What? You did?” I sit up as he looms closer.

Water sloshes against the sides of the tub.

“Why?”

He lifts the wine from the bucket, pulling a corkscrew out of his back pocket and jamming it into the top of the bottle, twisting it. “Why?” he asks, looking down at me. “My wife has been spending our entire vacation doing two things, riding my dick and soaking her beautiful body in here. You can’t tell me you wouldn’t want one of these at home. This is your fourth bath since we got here, Mia.”

I blush instantly. “Actually, it’s my fifth.”

His eyebrows shoot up.

“I drew one last night after you fell asleep. I’m not proud of it.”

“You took a bath in the middle of the night?”

Nodding, I sink back against the tub. My eyes lower. “Yep. I think I might be somewhat addicted at this point. It just feels so nice in here.”

Ben chuckles, low and deep in his throat. He pops the cork and holds the bottle out for me to take.

“You being addicted to taking baths works for me. Just means I’ll get to see you naked more.”

“So, it’s doable? I can feed my addiction at home?”

He nods, standing taller, looking all too proud of himself and the reaction he’s getting from me.

This is fantastic!

My excitement is barely containable. I do a little dance in the water, shimmying my hips along the sleek porcelain and bopping my shoulders, the wet ends of my hair sticking to my neck.

I hold the bottle with both hands and lift it to my mouth for a taste.

It’s fruity and sweet. Just my style. And strong. Wow. My head feels a little foggy after one generous swallow.

Smiling, Ben watches me lick the wine from my lips. “Good?” he asks.

I reach for him. “Yep. Get in and let me do inappropriate things to you with my mouth. I’m feeling frisky.”

Lust swells in his eyes. He quickly drops his shorts. No boxers.

Boom. Like a mic, I’m surprised that gorgeous appendage doesn’t hit the floor.

Neither of us have been wearing much of anything besides each other since we got here. It’s no surprise to me Ben went commando to run to the ice machine.

It’s also no surprise how wet I’m getting, even under water.

Sheesh.

He climbs into the tub and settles across from me, leaning back, his knees poking out from the water as he keeps his long legs bent and parted, allowing me to move mine between his.

I rub my feet against his strong thighs, taking another several sips of the wine and smacking my lips after it goes down smooth.

“I want to talk to you about something before you get too drunk to remember it.”

Giggling, I tilt my head. “Better hurry up then. I’m already starting to feel a little bold. Like, I want you to fuck me on the balcony kind of bold.”

Ben stares at me, clearly not on board with that idea. His gaze hard and unrelenting. “Not happening,” he grunts.

“Or, fuck me in the ocean kind of bold.”

A devious smile stretches across his mouth.

“Really? You’re okay with that?” I ask skeptically, taking one last sip of the wine before dropping the bottle back in the bucket.

The ice cracks and crunches against the weight of the glass.

Since when did Benjamin Kelly become an advocate for public sex? First the dressing room, now he’s eager to slide into me while we float around in the water with everyone else at the resort?

Really?

What’s next? A live peep show for the wedding guests? One starring me and Mister Nine Inches himself?

Who is this man?

Ben shrugs his shoulders. “Ocean is too murky for anyone to see anything they shouldn’t be fucking seeing. Not very deep, but I could make it work.”

Ah, okay. That makes sense. Still an element of privacy there.

“Balcony?” He snorts, shaking his head. “No fucking way. We’re not secluded, Mia. Anyone could walk by and get an eyeful of you.”

“Not if I keep my clothes on.”

“No.”

“No . . . to clothes?”

He cocks his head.

“What?”

“Who do you think I am?”

Laughing, I slouch further into the tub, the haze of alcohol working its magic and loosening my tongue.

“Benjamin fucking Kelly. My entire world.”

He grins.

“And the sexiest cop ever. Making women want to commit felonies and shit.”

His shoulders jerk with silent laughter.

I narrow my eyes, digging my toes into his legs. “Something funny?”

“That mouth.” His gazes lowers, hovering on the subject in question. “You’re getting tipsy.”

I blink at him, my eyelids fluttering slowly.

He’s right. I am already buzzing a little off the wine. Five, six sips, was it? That didn’t take long at all.

He thinks this version of me is hot? Interesting.

I feel Ben’s hands wrap around my ankles under the water. His grip adjusts, fingers rolling, and soon his thumbs are gliding over my skin, a gentle pressure he runs down the tops of my feet and back up, fluidly repeating the motion.

My toes curl.

Sweet mercy. His hands are magical.

It feels so good my head flops back. I allow my eyes to slip closed, listening to the sound of my slow, steady breathing. I’m so relaxed I could fall asleep.

“Do you not want more kids with me?”

On second thought . . .

My next gulp of air gets caught in my throat. I open my eyes and see Ben staring at me, his expression gentled. Those bright eyes clouded by some worrying thought.

He looks despaired.

I’ve seen this look on Ben before. One other time I’ve seen it.

Last summer, when I had the cancer scare. When we spent hours and hours waiting for results, the anticipation eating at us both but ripping Ben apart, slowly consuming him from the inside out. Stripping him of his strength.

He was struggling to hold onto even the tiniest shred of hope, and every time I looked at him, it was like we had already received our answer and the nightmare was real.