There his breath went again, brushing against her like it knew exactly what it was doing.

“Is the show doing anything for you?”

He was teasing her, but, good gravy, that made her go silent. All she could do next was look into those eyes before letting her gaze fall to those lips.

She’d never kissed Brady in the heat before. Not like this. Not covered in sweat or sarcasm or not prompted by a Robertson being near. Not when her heartbeat was starting to speed up and definitely not when she could see it coming. Her breathing pushed her chest up faster than she could control.

Sloane dragged her eyes back to his, wondering how something as innocent as a glass of water could turn into this so fast.

Brady’s smirk was gone.

Sloane instinctively moved closer.

She shouldn’t let her body make decisions with the man. Not when her mind was the angel on her shoulder yelling out that he’d kept the truth about Felicity from her. The man they were trying to fool was engaged to the woman Brady had been in love with, and that? That wasn’t nothing.

There’s no good that can come from this, that angel added on.

Yet, the world around them went silent as Brady’s gaze swept down to her lips.

Was this another headbutt-and-kiss situation?

In one fluid movement, Brady reached out and looped his free arm around her waist. Then he pulled her right up to his body like she was a moth and he was an all-encouraging flame. His momentarily unreadable expression turned to charm.

“I’m not used to being the one who gets drinks served to him,” he said. “Thanks, sweet cakes.” His eyes widened a little as if trying to tell her something.

Oh, right. We’re supposed to be a couple.

“I wouldn’t want you to shrivel up and die out here,” Sloane said lamely. She felt like Ricky Bobby from Talladega Nights and had no idea where to put her hands. So she plopped them right against his stomach with a slap. Brady tensed. She prattled on. “You know, because it’s so hot out here.”

“Yep. You sure nailed it.”

He took another long pull of water while Sloane felt utterly and thoroughly awkward. Sure, it was less painful than the headbutt-kiss, but at least during that, she’d had the clear roles of being the kisser and being the kissed. Now she was just fused to Brady’s bare upper body by sweat and anxiety. So she forced herself to relax into his hold a bit and tried to look anywhere but at his body hair and nipples. She was watching a bird fly by overhead when Brady finished his drink in record time.

“Thanks again, sweet cakes.” He dipped low and kissed a gasp out of her. His lips were still cold from the water. “We gotta keep our audience happy.”