It was like someone had lovingly and painstakingly carved him out of marble and all I wanted to do was touch him. There were muscles and abs and planes and edges everywhere. A candy house in the woods might not trick me, but I’d discovered that a gorgeous, shirtless man was enough to get me to forget about everything else.
“Rachel?”
I blinked several times, registering both that he’d called my name and sounded amused. He was holding out his top to me and I hastily grabbed it, taking care not to touch his hand.
My throat felt thick as I told him, “Turn around.”
“Right. Sorry.” He presented me with his back, and that was somehow worse. I watched the way his tendons and muscles flexed as he put his hands on his hips and all I wanted to do was go over and press kisses against every bit of his flesh.
I ached with need and had to turn around, too. It was the only way I could control myself. I took off my pajama top and bottoms, folding them and placing them on the dresser. I grabbed my keycard and my phone. I put on Camden’s shirt and inhaled deeply. It smelled like him.
“Okay,” I said and he turned back around and it was a bit like the sun coming out from behind a cloud. I’d thought I was prepared for it, but nope. Instead I was drooling over here like I’d never seen a shirtless, perfect specimen before.
It wasn’t one-sided, either. I saw his half-lidded gaze as he looked at the hem of his shirt against my legs. Awareness hung heavy between us, making me force air in and out of my lungs while my heart did a dance number. I found myself starting to walk toward him.
Fortunately, Mandy let herself back into the room. She looked faintly alarmed, and I quickly explained the situation, including pointing out where I’d left my pajamas for Brandy to change into tomorrow.
“I wouldn’t have even thought of that. You’re right, Sadie definitely would have noticed. Thank you,” she said.
“Of course. What else can we do?”
“Nothing. Go and enjoy your evening.”
I nodded and the Abdominal Snowman and I left the two sisters alone.
“Back to the tent?” he asked. That seemed like a solid plan. We would go back and sleep and let this night just fade into morning. Then two more days until we’d never see each other again.
That thought made me impossibly sad, and so I made a stupid decision. “I know this may sound hard to believe, especially given what we just witnessed, but I am starving. I haven’t eaten all day.” Other than cookies and s’mores, but that hardly counted.
“Did you want to go down to the restaurant? Or the bar?”
Neither one of those options seemed safe. Troy might expand his search. Or someone might see us and turn us in. “I have a secret weapon.” I held up my keycard. “Let’s get room service.”
“How did you manage that?” Camden asked as we went back to the elevators.
I tugged at the bottom of his shirt, noticing how his eyes tracked my movements. “I always get two keys and keep them in separate places because I tend to lose them and lock myself out. This time it works to our advantage.”
It took me a second to realize that I was presuming a lot. He might not be up for hanging out with me. Even if he had said he liked being around me. “I mean, if you want.”
“I want,” he said, his voice giving me impossible-to-ignore shivers. “Somebody has to keep an eye on you in case you slip up and reveal your nefarious intentions.”
Teasing or testing? It was hard to tell. We exited the elevator and began walking down our hallway. “My nefarious intentions to make sure the mother of the bride doesn’t humiliate said bride? Yep, whole lot of scheming going on there.”
We got to my room and I opened the door, letting us both in. I was glad that housekeeping had come and the room wasn’t in total disarray like it had been earlier. I grabbed a stray bra and shoved it into the top drawer of the dresser. Other than that it was fine.
The door slammed shut behind Camden and we were alone. Half-dressed. In a hotel room. With a giant bed.
Why had I thought this was a good idea?
“Changed,” I blurted out. “I need to get changed.” And give him back his shirt so that I wouldn’t start finding excuses to accidentally brush up against him. I grabbed a pair of yoga pants and a T-shirt from the dresser. I could have gone into the bathroom, but I would have had to squeeze past him and I did not trust myself to accidentally touch him at the moment.
“Okay.”
“Okay. So . . . I’m going to get changed,” I announced for a third time, holding my clothes in front of me, like they were a shield that would protect me. Why was I repeating myself?