Julia laughed. But then Luke’s hand was at the small of her back, leading her forward, and she forgot about dogs and dinner and anything and everything else except how it felt to have him touch her like that, the warmth of his skin seeping through the thin cotton of her dress, palm pressed against the base of her spine. Cocktail hour may have flown by, but Julia had a feeling this was going to be a very long week.

CHAPTER 10

LUKE

Luke kept his hand on Julia’s back as they made their way into the dining room. At first, the gesture had been merely polite, done more out of habit than anything else. But as they maneuvered around tables, he became aware of the intimacy of their contact. Acutely aware. His fingers splayed against the base of her spine, his brain whirring, processing the sensory overload. The heat of her skin, the sway of her hips, the soft fabric of her dress, and beneath that—the unmistakable outline of her panties.

In an instant, Luke was picturing her in that one item of clothing and nothing else. He flattened his palm against her back, fighting the urge to trace the delicate edge lower. He was saved from himself when she shifted away from him, moving toward a table where her friend stood waving.

The blond one. The reviewer. The reason he was supposed to be participating in this charade in the first place. Luke sucked in a breath and hurried to catch up. He needed to remember what was on the line. Keep his eyes on the prize and get his head out from under Julia’s dress and into the game. Fantasizing about panties … What the hell was wrong with him?

He held out a chair for Julia before taking the seat next to her, nodding as more people joined their table. Two men in their early thirties, who had clearly come together, and Julia’s other friend, the dark-haired one he’d met on the beach, accompanied by a guy in a Green Bay Packers jersey. A football jersey. Luke scowled. And he wasn’t allowed to wear a classic video game shirt? The injustice.

The dude sat down and immediately reached for the breadbasket.

“Where’s your name tag?” Packers jersey asked, offering the basket to Luke.

“Oh.” Luke glanced down and feigned surprise. “It must have fallen off.”

Jersey guy pointed to his own name tag. “Burt. But my real name is Curt, which rhymes with Burt, so you can call me either one.”

“Good to know.” Luke laughed. “Um, you can call me Lance.” It took him a second to recall his character name. After spending most of the last hour chatting with Julia, the information had gotten lost behind more important details. Such as the fact that she liked his real name. He smiled to himself, mouth curving in a goofy grin.