The sun was blazing, the ocean shimmering under the afternoon light, and Tannyhill’s private pool was packed with people. But Rafe Cameron wasn’t paying attention to the party.

No, his eyes were on you.

You were standing near the edge of the pool, hands fumbling behind your back, trying to fix the strings of your swimsuit top.

“Ugh,” you muttered under your breath, clearly frustrated.

Rafe smirked from where he sat, beer in hand, leaning back lazily like he owned the damn place.

“Need some help, Bunny?”

You huffed, rolling your eyes. “No, I got it.”

But you didn’t have it, and when the knot slipped loose again, Rafe was already pushing off his seat.

“Yeah, looks like you really got it,” he teased, stepping behind you.

You swallowed as his fingers brushed against your bare back, his touch slow, deliberate. He took his time, tying the strings securely—tugging them just enough to make you stumble back slightly into his chest.

His breath was warm against your ear. “All set.”

You turned your head slightly, looking up at him, and that smug smirk was still there. His hands lingered on your waist, thumbs brushing over your skin like he wasn’t in any rush to move.

“You could’ve just told me I tied it wrong,” you murmured.

Rafe chuckled, his grip tightening just slightly.

“Where’s the fun in that?”