Carly rubbed a towel over her hair, a huge grin on her face. Her entire body hummed, her limbs heavy, the fire low in her belly sated.

For now.

A part of her had wondered if having sex with Dean was simply an itch she needed to scratch, something she needed to get out of her system. But now, after, she knew that wasn’t true. Once wouldn’t be enough. Not by a long shot.

Dean emerged from the bathroom behind her, a white towel knotted low around his hips. Her stomach dipped and swirled because now she knew exactly what was under that towel. God, the sight of him touching himself, his hand stroking his long, thick cock, had almost made her spontaneously combust. The fact that he’d admitted to thinking about her while doing it?

It was a miracle she was still alive.

He brushed past her on his way to his suitcase, shooting her a tight smile. Not saying anything. The muscles across his back were bunched with tension—far too much tension for someone who’d just had fantastic sex. And she had no doubt that it had been as good for him as it had been for her.

She crossed the room and slipped her arms around him from behind, kissing the warm skin of his back. He went very still, and after a moment, he turned to face her. Emotions chased each other across his face, and she knew he was on the verge of freaking out. Of telling her that it had been a mistake, that it shouldn’t have happened, that it couldn’t happen again.

Her mind flashed back to the conversation they’d had their first night here. He hadn’t admitted to being scared of commitment, scared of hurting someone, scared of getting hurt, but he hadn’t denied it either. She wasn’t sure what was happening between them, only knew that it had definite potential to be . . . something. And although it was risky, she wanted to explore that potential. If they could get past the awkward transition from friends to something more, if Dean could work through some of the crap holding him back . . . it could be really good. She already knew they had lots in common, got along great, made each other laugh, and had fun together.

And, as it turned out, they were very sexually compatible.

But she knew she’d have to tread carefully. They wouldn’t be able to explore anything at all if he ran for fear of hurting her. She’d have to ease him into it, while showing him what they could have if they took a chance.

“Thank you,” she said, slipping her arms around his waist and kissing his chest.

“Um. Sure. You’re welcome.” There was a tightness to his voice, and she looked up, catching his gaze.

“You look like you’re about to hyperventilate. Should I get you a paper bag?”

He shook his head and stepped away from her. “No, I just . . . shit.” He ran a hand through his hair, sending droplets of water cascading down his gorgeous chest. “I’m just not sure that should’ve happened.”

She smiled and sat down on the edge of the bed, adjusting her towel. “I don’t regret it. We both wanted it, and we’re both adults.”

He sank down onto the bed beside her, his forearms braced on his thighs. “Mmm.”

“Hey,” she said, laying a hand on his arm. He looked at her, his warring emotions playing out in his blue eyes. Confusion, and guilt, and lust, all there, plain as day. “It wouldn’t have happened if we both didn’t want it. I’m not asking you for anything, Dean. I know you’re working through some shit right now, and that’s okay. But that doesn’t mean that this,” she said, gesturing between them, “is a bad thing. So why don’t we just enjoy the rest of our time here? No regrets. No promises. Just us, having fun.”

He sighed, but some of the darkness in his eyes lightened. “I don’t want to lose you as a friend, Car. And I don’t want you to think—”

“You won’t lose me as a friend. And I’m not thinking anything.” A flicker of guilt rose up in her chest, because that wasn’t entirely true. But he needed training wheels, and she was willing to be patient with him. “Except maybe about round two.”

At that, the tension seemed to melt away, replaced with relief, happiness, and a wolfish hunger. He leaned forward and kissed her, soft and slow. “No regrets. No promises. Just fun.”

He eased her back on the bed, tossed her towel aside, and proceeded to fulfill her wish for round two.

* * *

The next evening, Dean strode up to the bar in the small, beach-side restaurant where the rehearsal dinner was taking place, feeling more relaxed than he had in weeks. Maybe even months.

If he’d known Carly Jensen was such a damn firecracker in bed, he’d probably have asked her out when they’d first met. But then she wouldn’t be working for him still, and they wouldn’t be friends. And the thought of not having her in his life . . . yeah, it plain sucked.

But he wasn’t going to think about that. He was going to live in the moment and focus on enjoying his vacation and all the unexpected perks that came with it. Like having mind-blowing sex with Carly.

Suffice it to say, the pillow wall had been demolished.

“Two margaritas, please,” he said when the bartender nodded at him. Matt walked up to the bar, leaning his forearms on the shiny granite surface. He shot Dean a sidelong glance. A homicide detective in Seattle, Matt had a way of looking at a person that made him or her squirm. Even though he knew he hadn’t done anything wrong, he felt the weight of his cousin’s gaze on him.

“So. You and Carly, huh?” he asked, taking a sip of the beer the bartender had just placed in front of him.

“Yep.”

“Thought you didn’t date your employees.”

“Oh. Well, I—”

“Matter of fact,” said Matt, drawing the words out, “I didn’t think you dated at all.” He leaned closer. “Or had trouble in the multiple O department.”

Dean rubbed a hand over the back of his prickling neck as the bartender set down the two margaritas in front of him. “It’s complicated.” Well, at least that part was true.

“Uh-huh.” Matt tipped his head, thinking. “I thought you guys weren’t really a couple, you know. That maybe you were just lying so she could save face in front of her ex.” He shrugged. “But . . . something seems different now.”

Dean swallowed thickly. “It does?” Shit.

“Yeah.” He tipped his head, thinking. “I’m not sure what’s going on with you guys, but here’s a little unsolicited advice.”

“My favorite kind.”

Matt smirked. “Sometimes the best things in life happen in the most unexpected ways.” He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes on Ellie as she approached with Luke and Christie. “Sometimes they sneak up on you, hit you out of nowhere. Sometimes they’ve been right under your nose for a long time. But those best things?” He blew out a breath. “The best things can also be the most terrifying things, because suddenly you have something to lose.”

A few years ago, Matt had been shot on the job, and had almost died. He’d gone through a messy divorce, too, after his wife had had an affair. But he’d come out on the other side, and now saw himself as the family’s Dr. Phil, handing out advice about living life to the fullest.

Dean took a sip of his drink and nodded, letting the words sink in. “Yeah.”

“But life is short, and it’s better to live it and risk losing something, to risk the pain that comes with it than to not live at all.” He leaned in even closer. “And you seem real alive tonight. That’s all.” He clinked his glass against Dean’s just as Ellie, Luke, and Christie sidled up to the bar. Matt handed Ellie the glass of wine he’d ordered for her. She accepted it with a smile as she asked Christie a question about the pretty white cocktail dress she was wearing, but Dean wasn’t listening. He was too caught up in his own thoughts.

Was Matt right? Had Dean not really been living all this time? Losing his mother had been the hardest, most painful thing he’d ever had to endure, and now he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d let her death talk him out of living his life as opposed to inspiring him to live it.

His head swam a little, thoughts churning around, chasing each other. Thoughts of Carly, of his mother, of his past, all twisted around, caught up in a net of hope, and confusion, and worry, and fear.

He took another sip of his margarita, pushing it all away. No regrets. No promises. Just fun. He repeated it like a mantra, reassuring himself that he and Carly were on the same page. Needing to believe it, because he sure as hell didn’t want to stop feeling so damn good he was surprised his feet were still on the ground. She made him feel that way, partly because he actually liked who he was when he was with her.

It was a new feeling, and one he wanted to hang onto.

“What were you guys talking about?” asked Luke, taking a sip of his own beer.

“Nothing,” said Dean.

At the exact same time, Matt said, “Carly.”

Luke’s eyebrows rose and he laughed. “Trouble in paradise?”

Dean shook his head. “No, I just don’t like to kiss and tell.”

Luke studied him for a second, took another sip of his beer. “You know, I was surprised when you showed up with a full-on girlfriend, given that a week ago, you said you weren’t seeing anyone.”

The prickling sensation returned to the back of Dean’s neck, and he took another sip of his margarita. “Yeah, well, things happen.” It was all he could think to say. He certainly wasn’t going to come clean to everyone and risk blowing their cover, creating an embarrassing situation for Carly. And the truth was, things had happened. Sure, the timeline wasn’t what everyone else thought it was, but they’d still happened. That part wasn’t a complete lie.

“I’m glad they did,” said Christie, smiling warmly at him. “I like her. She’s smart and funny, and you two make a really cute couple.”

Something kicked low in Dean’s gut at Christie’s words. They weren’t really a couple, so it didn’t matter what she thought, but at the same time, he liked that they looked good together. They sure as hell felt good together.

“Thanks,” he said, and then decided to sprinkle a little more truth on the conversation. “I like her, too.”

“So if she’s worked for you for—what was it, a couple of years?—what took you so long?” asked Luke.

That, right there, was a fantastic question, and one he didn’t have an answer to. He shrugged. “I don’t know.” He glanced over to where Carly stood chatting with his dad. His mind flashed back to how he’d felt on the plane. “It’s like I just suddenly saw her with fresh eyes.”

“You sure it’s not just because you ran out of single women to spend time with?” asked Matt, a teasing glint in his eyes.

Dean made a face at his cousin. “No. And I can assure you, there are plenty of single women who I never ‘spent time with,’” he said, making air quotes around the words.

“What’s plenty?” asked Luke. “Like, a dozen?”

Dean laughed, but it still kinda stung that even though he was here with Carly, they were still making manwhore jokes.

Christie laid a hand on his arm, as though she’d picked up on his discomfort. “Ignore these comedians. I think it’s great, Dean. I’m happy for you. I think she’s great.”

“Thanks. Speaking of Carly, I should probably get back to her.” He wasn’t really in the mood for more ribbing. Instead, he wanted to hang on to what Christie had said, about Carly being great, and the two of them making a cute couple. Even if it was only temporary.

He picked up the drinks, glancing around for Carly. She was caught in a conversation with Mike and Ashley, both of whom were looking down at her condescendingly, clinging to each other. Rubbing how great they were together in her face. He walked over and set their drinks down on a nearby table.

“Hey,” he said, slipping an arm around her waist. She leaned into him, and he dipped his head, breathing in that warm citrusy smell that he’d always liked. Now, after the past twenty-four hours, it was also a smell that made him semi-hard. He caught her mouth in a quick kiss.

“Carly was just telling us about her little hobby,” said Ashley, her eyes raking over Dean. He fought back the urge to roll his eyes.

“Well, it’s more than a hobby,” said Carly, a defensive edge creeping into her tone. “I work hard at it, and I get paid for gigs. I’ve performed in Cheyenne, Salt Lake City, Denver, Wichita, and I have a gig next month in Santa Fe.”

Ashley’s expression changed, from one of condescension to being mildly impressed. “Oh. I didn’t realize you were . . . you know. Doing it on that scale. Mike didn’t mention that.” She shot her boyfriend a reproving glance.

Carly shrugged. “That’s probably because he never came to any of my shows.”

“Oh, man,” said Dean, shaking his head. “You missed out. She’s freaking hilarious on stage.” He chuckled. “I think my favorite bit is the one about what’s wrong with every Disney princess.”

She smiled up at him. “Well, I mean, come on. You could host an episode of Maury with those bitches. Ariel’s a hoarder, Belle’s got a major case of Stockholm syndrome, Aurora’s like, freaking narcoleptic, and don’t even get me started on Snow White.”

“Tell us a joke from your show!” said Ashley, clapping her hands together.

Carly sighed and shot Dean an “oh, brother” glance. “It doesn’t really work like that. It’s a whole routine that I’ve spent months writing. It all goes together. It doesn’t work if you take it apart.” She took a big gulp of her margarita.

“You’ve got some good one liners, though,” said Dean, unable to keep the pride out of his voice, and she smiled and half shrugged.

She cleared her throat and did her best nature-show-presenter impression. “Unlike his cousin, the electric eel, the acoustic eel is not deadly. He does, however, ruin parties by bringing his guitar with him.”

Ashley laughed. “Hey, that’s funny,” she said, sounding a bit surprised.

“So is that what you want to do? Be a stand-up comedian and work at the bar?” asked Dr. Mike, something almost scolding and reproachful in his tone.

“For now, yeah. I know you have a hard time believing it, but I’m happy doing what I’m doing. I like doing stand-up. I like working at the bar. I know it doesn’t seem like much to you, but I like my life, Mike.”

Pride glowed through Dean at the way Carly was handling the situation. She was funny, and strong, and . . . God, just so many things.

“Hey, would you guys mind taking a picture?” Dean asked, fishing his phone out of his pocket.

Dr. Mike’s lip curled slightly, but he took Dean’s phone. “Sure.”

Carly leaned her head on his chest, and whispered, “Say ‘raging salmon.’” He started to laugh, and so did she as Mike snapped the picture. He practically shoved Dean’s phone back at him, then took Ashley’s hand and led her away.

Dean and Carly looked at each other and then burst out laughing.

* * *

After the rehearsal dinner, Dean took Carly’s hand and led her out of the restaurant. She’d assumed they’d just go back to their room, but then lights and soft music caught her attention from the large open square near the lobby building.

Dean noticed her looking in that direction and gave her hand a squeeze. “Wanna go check it out?”

She nodded. “Sure. I don’t know what it is, but let’s go.”

They walked in easy, comfortable silence along the path, the empty pool gurgling quietly, the palm fronds whispering softly above their heads. As they got closer to the square, the vibrant mariachi music got louder, the lights of whatever was going on shining up into the night sky. They crossed over a bridge that arched over one of the arms of the pool and rounded a corner. Carly let out a happy little gasp.

Colorful banners were strung between the palm trees, fluttering cheerfully in the breeze. In the center of the square, a mariachi band played, while booths laden with goods lined the perimeter of the square. Dozens of people milled about, perusing the items for sale at the booths.

It felt like the world’s happiest little night market.

“Hey, Car, look at these,” said Dean, leading her to a booth selling traditional Mexican wrestling masks. Dean asked if he could try one on, and the vendor smiled enthusiastically at them. He tugged one on, bright blue with red around the eyes and mouth. He flexed and growled at her and she burst out laughing.

“Okay, you have to get that,” she said, unable to stop laughing at Dean in that ridiculous mask.

“You buy it, I give you another for half off,” said the vendor. “Your lady need one.”

“Yes, I agree,” said Dean, his eyes sparkling out at her from behind the mask. “She definitely does.” He picked out a green one with white wings coming out from the eyes and handed it to her. Making a face she pulled it on, but was glad she did when he cracked up.

Dean pulled out his wallet, still laughing. He paid the vendor and thanked him. Carly gently pulled her mask off, watching as Dean did the same. It left his hair standing out at funny angles, and she reached up and ran her hands through it, smoothing it back into place. Before she could take her hand back, he caught it and brought to his lips, kissing her palm. Warmth tingled up her arm. He took her mask from her and shoved them both into his pockets.

She felt something blossoming inside her, and as they browsed the market, she realized what it was. It was hope. Her friendship with Dean had always come easily, and layering this new, romantic, physical element over top of it felt good, and right, and natural. The ease of it made her hopeful that he’d see how good they were together. Made her hopeful that this wouldn’t come crashing down around them when they returned home and back to reality.

They walked past booths selling colorful woven blankets, straw sombreros, brightly painted skull figurines, and intricately painted pottery. All of it was so pretty, so cheerful, so vibrant and full of life.

“Thank you again for bringing me,” she said, bumping his arm affectionately with hers.

He smiled down at her. “Thanks for coming with me.”

They passed by a booth laden with jewelry, silver and turquoise and coral all gleaming in the light.

Carly slowed her steps, her eyes roving over all of the beautiful stones. One necklace in particular caught her eye, with flat turquoise stones linked with silver and small red coral pebbles. It was probably way out of her price range, but she couldn’t stop herself from extending a hand and tracing her fingers over the smooth, cool stones.

“You should try it on,” said Dean, his voice low in her ear.

“No, I shouldn’t, because then I’ll want it, and it’s probably too expensive.”

“Your lady want to try?” asked the young woman behind the booth, smiling at Dean. Before either of them could answer, the vendor had already scooped up the necklace and handed it to Dean. “You help her try.”

She meant to protest, to say No, thank you, but then Dean moved behind her, his warm fingers brushing against her skin as he slid the necklace around her neck, fastening it. The vendor held up a small mirror so she could see herself.

“Oh,” she breathed, tracing the tips of her fingers over it. “It’s beautiful.”

She glanced up at Dean, whose eyes were on her, not the necklace. “Definitely beautiful.” He turned to the vendor. “I’ll take it.”

“No, Dean. You don’t have to do that.” She felt the need to protest, even though she didn’t want to take the necklace off.

He turned and pulled her to him, planting a kiss on her in front of everyone. “I know. I want to. I want you to have it.”

A lump formed in her throat, and she couldn’t do anything except nod. It was the sweetest thing anyone had done for her in a long time, and he wasn’t doing it to try to impress her, or to somehow win her favor. He was doing it because he wanted to. Because he liked making her happy.

Dean paid for the necklace, and she left it on, liking the weight of it against her skin. With a tug on her hand, Dean led her away from the market, leaving the lights and music behind them. But instead of turning back toward their building like she’d expected, he instead led her toward the beach. The night was warm and calm, the sky a velvet blanket scattered with stars. The moon, almost full, hung high in the sky, casting a silvery glow on the ocean below.

“What are we doing?” she asked, kicking off her wedge sandals as they reached the sand. The beach was deserted, and although the sun had set hours ago, the sand was still warm beneath her feet. The waves lapped and crashed against the shore in a soft rush. Darkness enfolded them, wrapping them up in a sense of peace and privacy.

“Crossing another ‘never’ off our lists,” he said, his eyes shining in the dark. He glanced around before leading her farther down the beach. They came to a stop and he tugged off his shirt, letting it fall into the sand. The moonlight highlighted the rugged planes of his chest, shadowing each muscled dip and valley.

Would they keep doing this when they went home? Keep living with no regrets and no promises? Or would they go back to just being friends and co-workers?

She knew what she wanted. And she was starting to let herself hope that Dean wanted the same thing.

He undid his belt, the metal of the buckle clanging softly in the quiet night. She glanced at the gently rolling waves, and then back at Dean. He smiled at her, big and bright, and then let his pants and boxers drop around his ankles.

“I’m going in, and you’re coming with me. Up to you if you lose the dress or not,” he said, reaching out and toying with one of the thin straps of her favorite yellow sundress. She hesitated for another second, and then began shrugging out of her dress. Taking a risk for him. Wanting more of those firsts with him. At least, if this was all they had, she’d own those memories.

She stripped down, tossing her clothes beside his. Naked in the moonlight except for her necklace.

He grabbed her hand, his skin warm against hers. “Go! Before someone sees us!”

She let out a shrieking laugh as they ran toward the water, the waves splashing around her legs. She looked over at him, and almost forgot to breathe. He was laughing, too, letting out a little yelp as the water rose up to his package. God, he was so gorgeous, so happy. She just wanted this moment, forever.

They kept going until the water was up to their shoulders. The ocean felt much colder at night, in the dark, and she floated toward him, seeking out the warmth of his body. The cool water swirled around her, between her legs, reminding her of how naked she was, and she let out a little shiver. It felt good, as though she were both exposed, but completely safe.

Dean splashed her as she swam closer, and laughing, she splashed him back before slipping her legs around his hips. His body was warm, solid and strong, and felt so good against hers. A fire simmered low in her belly and between her legs. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he ran his hands up and down the backs of her legs, from her ass to the ticklish spot behind her knees.

Leaning forward, she kissed his neck, tasting the ocean’s salt on his skin. Everything was so quiet around them, so dark, that it felt as though they were the only people on the planet.

He grazed her cheek with his nose, and then kissed her, a long, sweet, lingering kiss that made her nerve endings stretch and unfurl, wanting more.

“You look so pretty in the moonlight,” he said, kissing her throat as they floated together. “And you feel so good. God. All I can think about is being inside you again.” He moaned quietly as he kissed and sucked at the skin of her neck. He kissed his way back up to her mouth, and then pressed his forehead to hers. “I’m glad I’m here with you,” he whispered.

Her heart flipped over on itself, and in that moment, she knew. She was falling for Dean Grayson, and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do to stop it.

“Me too,” she said, not trusting herself to say anything more.

She wasn’t sure how long they floated together, kissing and touching and teasing. Stroking and tasting. Whispering and laughing and splashing. By the time they swam for the shore, her fingers were wrinkled, shriveled like prunes. They dashed toward their clothes, sand sticking to their feet and legs.

Dean picked up his shirt and pants, laughing softly. “I . . . did not think this through.”

She laughed too, fighting to get back into her dress as it clung to her wet skin. “Yeah, well, it’s better than flashing the whole resort and having to go to Mexican jail for indecent exposure.”

With his pants and shirt back on, he took her hand. “Come on. Let’s go back to the room so we can get out of these wet clothes.”

“And then what do you want to do? Watch cartoons?” she joked.

He let out a chuckle. “No. But I do have a move called the ‘Road Runner’ I’m dying to show you.” His eyebrows bounced, and she laughed again.

As they crossed the bridge over the mangroves, a resort security golf cart drove across the sand behind them, lights shining in the darkness. They both stifled a laugh and started walking a bit faster.

“Cheese it! It’s the fuzz,” she said, putting on an old-timey voice.

“Then we best not lollygag, see,” he said, imitating the voice back to her. It was something they did at the bar, goofing off and joking around. It felt so good to laugh with him, here, now, as though maybe things wouldn’t be different when they got home.

Laughing, they ran back to their room, and without any lollygagging whatsoever, Carly was on her knees in front of Dean, his cock hard against her lips, warm and smooth against her tongue, as she showed him how good she could make him feel.