“You know, that’s not that bad of an idea,” I say. “Think of the little chino pants and embroidered vest the baby could wear.”

Scottie laughs. “It could be one of those 27 Dresses type things, but instead of bridesmaid dresses, all the guys I worked with have to wear their chino shorts and company vests.”

“Babe, I don’t think you’ve ever had a better idea.”

“Wow, the bar is pretty low then.”

“Yeah, that’s okay. We have the rest of our lives for you to raise it.”

She rolls her eyes and turns away, but I wrap my arm around her and pull her into my chest while kissing the top of her head.

“Love you, Pips.”

She chuckles. “Love you too, Wilder.”

When I release her, I lean in and whisper, “I spoke to Sanders last week. He said we could have the tent again this year, but maybe this time, we sleep naked.”

“Why? So I can accidentally zip your dick up into the sleeping bag?”

I gasp jokingly. “No, not the return of the Serial Zipper.”

“Threaten me with the suction-cup dildo, and yeah, she might come screeching in, looking to do some damage.”

“Babe,” I say levelly. “Just give it a try.” I bat my eyelashes at her. “For me.”

She palms my face and pushes me away. “Not going to happen.”

Three hours later

“So…do I need to tell you I told you so?” I ask as I try to catch my breath.

Scottie turns off the shower and pushes at my chest with her finger. “Mutter those words, and consider this your last shower with that flesh sword.”

I hold my hands up. “Noted.” Smirking, I add, “But Pips, that shit was good, wasn’t it?”

She smirks and wraps her towel around her torso. “No, Wilder, it was great.”

Keep flipping for an excerpt from my tropical destination rom-com: Bridesmaid for Hire

Excerpt - Bridesmaid for Hire

PROLOGUE

MAGGIE

“You’re breathing down my neck.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.” I gesture to my neck where he’s hovering while we peer out toward the restaurant from the bar. “There is breath on my neck that’s forming a dewy condensation, and frankly, it’s giving me the ick.” I turn toward the worst human I’ve ever met and look him dead in the eyes. “You’re giving me the ick.”

He glares at me for a moment, those dark brown eyes like spotlights, examining every inch of me. “The spinach that’s been stuck between your teeth for the last hour and a half has been giving me the ick.”

I let out a horrified gasp before I rub my finger over my teeth frantically. “Where? Did I get it?”

I bare my teeth at him, and he throws his head back and laughs before shaking his head. “Jesus, you’re too easy.”

And this is why I can’t stand this man.