Just Sign Here - Cara Dee Page 0,30

care about dinner. Water was the constant requirement. Frequent showers and ice-cold water to drink.

In the end, I chose to focus on my obsession with Peyton. He was getting…antsy. I still managed to make him blush with the occasional touch or something I said, but I hadn’t made any new advances since our rendezvous in Martinique.

The first time I sprayed sunscreen on him, I thought I was going to lose it. His expression had been priceless. And I definitely hadn’t missed the disappointment on his face. The sweet boy had expected more groping.

He needn’t worry. We were staying in Jamaica for four days, and I only had three work commitments. Tomorrow, I was taking him—and only him—to a private beach.

If he thought my current swimwear “put everything on display,” wait till I wasn’t wearing any at all.

I didn’t know what was wrong with the trunks I had on, to be honest. They were black, comfortable, and had the exact same cut as regular boxer briefs. Hell, Cathryn’s husband wore identical trunks. She was the one who sent me the link to them.

“Daddy!” Julia hollered. “Come swim wid us!”

I probably should. It was getting hot, and I wasn’t sure if it was sunscreen or sweat that made my chest hair sparkle like a drag queen at this point.

I got up from my lounger with a grunt and tossed my shades on my towel.

“Yay, floaties off!” she cheered.

I laughed softly and sat down on the edge of the pool. The water felt cold, so it was a good idea to cool down. I’d been in the sun since breakfast. As I lowered myself into the water, cursing at the temperature, Julia threw off her floaties and hurled herself from Peyton’s embrace. It was a good thing he fished her out of the water.

“You’re a little nut, darling,” I told her. “You can’t swim yet.”

“Yuh-huh!” she argued and spluttered.

I dove under the surface, only to emerge when she was within reach. Slipping my hands under her armpits, I pulled her to me and peppered her face with kisses.

She giggled madly and pushed my cheeks together.

“Am I cute now?” I asked, puckering my lips.

She found me hilarious enough to give me a big smooch. “Daddies can’t be cute.”

“Says who?” I laughed.

She shrugged. “I dunno.”

“I think some daddies can be cute,” Peyton said and swam around us in a circle. “Especially your daddy.”

I puffed out my chest and smirked smugly. “Hear that, Julia?”

“Really?” She scrunched her nose and hooked her arm around my neck. “You think my daddy’s cute?”

Peyton nodded, his lips near the surface of the water, and swam up to us. To my surprise, he stroked his hand along my lower back while he booped Julia on the nose.

She gigglesnorted and batted away his hand.

Peyton’s hand on my back stayed, though.

Tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough.

All of us had breakfast together on the terrace of our bungalow the following morning, including Mathis, who was tagging along with the girls on an excursion today. Most of our island resorts in the Caribbean provided luxury for scuba divers, golfers, spa-goers, and wealthy sport fishing enthusiasts, so our properties were off the beaten path and about a twenty-minute drive to the nearest town or village. And today, Cathryn wanted to go shopping.

I felt better knowing Mathis would be there as security.

Peyton was under the impression that we had a work commitment before our brief vacation could resume, so he wished Julia a great time and expressed that he was a little jealous he couldn’t come with.

He’d be more than a little jealous in a while, but it would pass—if he agreed to my next request.

“Okay, so where are we off to?” he asked. “I’m supposed to let you know where you gotta be, not the other way around.”

“As my assistant, certainly. But today you’re just my pretty property.” I finished my coffee and stood up. “Let’s get some sunscreen on you, and then we’ll head out.”

“All right,” he responded, confused, and followed me inside.

Toward the bathroom.

I’d already changed into cargo shorts and a tee, so I was ready to go. Hell, I’d been ready since one of the hotel staff had delivered the golf cart out front earlier. At nine, I’d received confirmation that everything was ready on the private beach.

It belonged to the resort and was only a five-minute ride away from here.

“Isn’t it smarter to use the spray outside?” he asked.

Probably, but I wasn’t using the spray this time.

“I think it’s wise that you don’t