“Oh,” she said when he finally lifted his mouth from hers. “Oh my.” Still at a loss for words, she stared up at him, wanting him to kiss her again, wondering if he wanted to. He tasted delicious, of salt from the sea and his own unique flavor. It was exciting and sexy and wholly unexpected. She had not kissed a man in ages. She was glad the one she was kissing happened to be Logan O’Donnell.

He smiled down at her. “I’m glad we shared that.”

She wasn’t sure he meant the dolphins or the kiss.

“Me, too,” she said, and she knew which one she meant.

“Are you sure you have to leave today?” he asked.

Ah, so tempting. Then she took a deep breath. It was just a kiss, she reminded herself. It was only a kiss. “Yes. I have a work thing.” She bent over and unstrapped the ankle tether of her board.

“On a holiday weekend?”

She straightened up and nodded, furrowing a hand through her hair. “It’s weather-dependent. There’s a photo shoot that needs snow and ice, and that’s the prediction for tomorrow and Sunday.”

“Sounds awesome. Where’s the shoot?”

“Lake Placid,” she said. “It’s a snow sports shoot.”

“Cool. So, do you do photography?”

“No. I’d love to learn one day.”

“It’s overrated,” he said quickly, almost harshly. He caught her quizzical look and added, “My ex is a photographer.”

“I don’t think it’s contagious,” she said.

“Yeah, sorry.” He passed her a towel. Their hands brushed, and they looked at each other briefly.

Again, she thought. Let’s try kissing again. To her disappointment, he picked up her beach bag and started back toward the house.

“So, what do you do on the shoot?” he asked. “Stylist, or...?”

“I’m, uh, the subject,” she said, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

“Sorry, what?”

“The subject.”

“Like, you’re a model?”

“I’m one of the athletes,” she said, somewhat insulted by his surprise. She knew she wasn’t model-pretty, but she wished he thought she was.

“Now I’m confused. I thought you were in advertising.”

“I am. I’m in sports marketing,” she said. “It’s a specialized field. I work with sponsors, and the shoot is set up to show off their gear.”

“What do you mean, you work with sponsors?”

“As a sponsored athlete.”

“Seriously? What kind of sport?” he asked, holding the back door for her. The kitchen, though deserted, was fragrant with the morning’s first pot of coffee.

“Snowboarding is my specialty. I’ll be testing gear and apparel, and there will be photos and videos for the sponsors’ catalogue and website. Hence the need to shoot when the weather is cooperating.” She helped herself to a cup of coffee and poured one for him.

“You snowboard to test and promote your sponsors’ gear, and that’s your job.”