Joy cleans the dried face mask off and moisturizes his face before they head downstairs. They raid the kitchen, ending up with a platter of leftovers, breakfast pastries, and fruit, and snag a bottle of champagne from the bar room to make mimosas.

It isn’t quite warm enough outside to worry about heatstroke just yet. In fact, the last few remnants of the overnight chill still hang in the air. It prickles at Joy’s bare skin, and coats the grass she walks on, tickling the bottoms of her feet. She opted to wear her second bathing suit—one-piece, all black, with geometric cuts of fabric in clever places.

Joy sets up the table for their food so it’s within reaching distance, while Fox peels back the hot tub cover.

“I think it takes a couple of minutes to warm up,” he says as the jets kick on.

“I can take it.” Joy climbs the steps and gets in immediately, feeling perfectly fine and chilly.

“Isn’t it cold?”

“Freezing,” she says, excited. “I love it.”

Fox, on the other hand, waits until he can see steam rising off the water. He settles in next to Joy, who immediately asks, “Have you thought of anything else you’d like to do?”

He shakes his head. “This is okay.”

“You should still pick something,” she says. “How do you feel about massages? Would you like one?”

“From you?”

“That had a tone.” She laughs.

“No, no tone. Just surprised,” he says, completely blush free. Either he never turns red or he truly isn’t embarrassed. “Would you be okay with that? That’s a lot of touching.”

“I’m okay with you, Fox,” she says. “If you’re cool with it, then so am I.”

And she is. She doesn’t even have to think twice about it. Ever since that first moment in the kitchen when he let her touch his hand to see how comfortable she felt, she’s been openly inching toward him, closer and closer.

Fox nods and Joy moves to sit behind him. He scoots forward, giving her room on the bench.

Joy says, “You don’t have to sit so far away. Come here, please.” She only has the basics down: effective ways to use her hands and which muscles to look for. She hits a knot right between his shoulder blades almost immediately and tries to work it out, but she can’t. He doesn’t seem to mind how bad she is at it, leaning into her touch and exhaling in delighted surprise when she hits certain spots. She’s glad he can’t see her face—her pleased smile is practically criminal.

Fox says, “You didn’t answer my question last night.”

“I didn’t?” Joy plunges her hands under the water to reach his lower back. He sits up a little straighter with a tiny noise of acknowledgment that sounds low in his throat.