They rode bicycles around the island and drove jet skis along the shore line. Today, she sat on the sofa, tying her sneakers because they’d be jogging—an activity she knew would be tough since she hadn’t run or overly exerted herself in months. She flexed the toe she’d stubbed, but it felt fine. Sam said he’d take it easy on her, seeing as she wasn’t used to running in sand. But the twinkle in his eyes when he’d made the statement indicated he knew she didn’t back down from challenges. She planned to smoke his ass—even if the exertion killed her. A soft knock sounded on the door, and as had become his habit, he let himself in. Her breath caught because he was shirtless above his running shorts, and his sculpted chest was magnificent. So were his arms, his thighs, that tight ass she knew was rock hard just from looking at it. Stop that! How horrible would she be to repay his many kindnesses by drooling all over his body? And while she admitted to herself she grew more attracted to her host every day, she didn’t dare act on that awareness.
