“You’re a doll. I’m totally going to be that person who steals something you’re wearing, and then wear it over and over again.”

“Have at it,” I say.

“So how did you guys like the pool exercise this morning?” Lottie asks. Huxley drapes his arm over the back of her chair, not saying anything at all, just observing his wife. From the way he carries himself and his possessive posture whenever Lottie is around, there is no doubt in my mind that their sex life is off the charts. I bet they get into some pretty kinky things.

“I thought it was very interesting,” I answer. “Didn’t know what to expect, but it was nice.”

“Huxley hated every second of it.” We all chuckle. “But I made sure to make up for it after.” She winks, and yeah . . . that says it all. Huxley’s fingers smooth over Lottie’s shoulder as he leans in and kisses her neck.

Okay . . . that’s hot.

It might be the most subtle display of affection, but from here, I see the imprint he’s leaving on her shoulder, marking her. I notice her quick intake of breath when his lips land on her skin and the briefest inhales in his chest as he pulls away like he can’t get enough of her scent.

“From the way you two bolted from the pool, I’m going to guess you went straight to your room,” Lottie says with a wink.

We did, but not for that reason. We were both sort of horrified.

“Sorry to interrupt,” the server says from over my shoulder. “But could I interest you in a pinot noir to start you off? The bride and groom have chosen an array of delicious wines to try this evening.”

“Yes, please, I would love to try whatever you have.”

“Me too,” Ryot says.

“Great, I’ll bring you the tour of our tasting tonight.”

“Thank you,” I say as he walks away. I lean into Ryot and say, “Tour of our tasting, that sounds interesting.”

“Sounds like a lot of wine.”

“Think I might need it,” I whisper back.

* * *

“Okay, is it me or is this cheese really good?” I ask, turning toward Ryot.

“It’s really good,” he says while picking up another piece off my plate.

“Hey, that’s mine.” I slap at his hand, making him laugh, but that doesn’t stop him from taking a bite. “Ryot Bisley!” He chuckles some more and then lifts the remaining half to my lips. I part, and he slips the cheese into my mouth.

“There. Better?”

“No, I would have preferred the whole thing.”

“What about this? You can have this piece of cheese for the one I took.” He holds up a piece, and I sneer at him.

“That one tastes like the innards of your musty, old cleats. That in no way is a fair exchange.”

“Musty, old cleats? Don’t you think that’s going a bit far?” he asks while finishing off his glass of wine.