However, the next time it happens, it’s not an accident. His fingers slowly skim over mine. The weight of his touch is barely there, but it’s enough to make my skin tingle. Enough to send something warm and slow curling through my stomach.

And then, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, his hand drifts further. Lower. And suddenly, his palm now rests on my thigh. His touch isn’t urgent or demanding. It’s just there as a calm, unshaken claim. It’s like he’s done it a thousand times before. Like he should’ve been doing it all along.

His thumb brushes my thigh once. Just once. That’s all it takes for heat to pool between my legs so fast that I swear I should be embarrassed. But I’m not. Because I know that he knows exactly what he’s doing.

And the worst part? I want to spread my thighs. I want to let him slide higher. I want to feel his fingers inside me.

Instead, I shift in my seat and ignore the ache, but when I glance over at him, his jaw is tight, and he’s smirking. This smug bastard.

“You good over there, Ms. Kind?” His voice is smooth. Amused.

I roll my eyes and cross my arms. “I’m fine, Mr. Grimes.”

But just like that, the moment slips away. The spell breaks as the car slows to a stop, and I blink, pulling myself out of the haze to take in the sight ahead.

Hundreds. No, thousands of people stretch across the sand with coolers stacked high, towels spread out everywhere, and water toys strapped to backs like artillery. The energy is electric as people run into the ocean, some already dripping wet, others gathering in groups plotting their next move.

Vic steps out of the car, and his face immediately twists in suspicion. His arms cross over his chest as he eyes the scene like he’s been set up.

“Kerry…” he says slowly. “What kind of parade is this again?”

I bite my lip to keep from laughing, then reach into the backseat, sling my oversized bag over my shoulder, and turn to face him with a smirk.

“Oh, it’s not just a parade,” I say sweetly, pulling out the biggest, most ridiculous Super Soaker I could find. “It’s a water fight.” I declare.

Vic blinks. “Excuse me?”

I grin wider, tossing him his Super Soaker, fully locked and loaded. “Now,” I say, adjusting my bikini top and stretching like an athlete before game time. “Get ready to have some fun.”

Vic looks angry and grumpy as usual, but I see that little smile trying to poke through.

“Come on!” I yell, laughing as we weave through the madness. “I gotta make sure our spot isn’t taken. The pier is the perfect hideout for a counterattack.”