Shayla's Story (The Mathews/Clemmins Family Series) by Beverly Preston Page B

mark the size of a half dollar. Shayla turned away from him in
humiliation, making another pass at her mouth. “Sorry about your shirt. What
happened? Did I fall asleep on you?”
      “Don’t worry about it. It’s my fault
anyway. You were sleeping all crooked,”—he imitated her discomfort,
hanging his head to the side—“so I tried to straighten you out.”
    A rush of color
flooded his cheeks and he looked like a little boy when he grinned. “You
snuggled right up next to my chest and we fell asleep that way. I woke up about
an hour ago.”
    Tracy moved through
the cabin. She reached into her back pocket, retrieving a picture from her
phone. “You were both out cold.”
    “You didn’t put that
on Facebook, did you?” Shayla questioned briskly.
    “No. We were already
warned the whole trip and wedding are top secret.”
    JC reached her arm
through the crack of the seat, showing off her photo of Shayla with her arm
sprawled across John’s chest. Her face buried against his chest and John was
sound asleep with his temple pressed to the top of her head. “This one is so
cute! Do you have any idea how hard it is not post these?”
    Her lip wrinkled in
shock, hit by a wave of embarrassment. Shayla absently rubbed her stiff neck.
“Shit.”
    “What?” He complained
teasingly. “You afraid to be seen with me?”
    Raking his fingers
through his dark mink hair, John arched and stretched like a cat. Straining
muscles captured her attention, spreading heat from her cheeks to her toes.
Pulling her lower lip into her mouth, she bit down, allowing her gaze to travel
from his bulging triceps to strong thighs.
    Their gazes met and
held.
    In order to escape
the embarrassment, she stood. “Excuse me.”
    John twisted,
touching his hand to her hip as she scooted by.
    The warmth from his
handprint on her waist stayed with her all the way to the restroom. Her
breathing came hard though a trembling puff of air. She rinsed her mouth and
fixed her hair. Catching a whiff of his cologne lingering in the layers of her
hair, she closed her eyes and inhaled the yummy scent. “Good lord he’s hot.”
    From out of nowhere,
a vision of his pants around his strained thighs while making love to her on
the counter popped into her head. Her eyes rolled back as a low ache burned low
in her tummy. With every fiber of her being, she wanted to grab him by the
wrist and pull him into the stall.
    She splashed water
on her face and pointed a finger at her longing reflection. “You need to stop.”
    Putting her hormones
in check, she sauntered out to join the others. Each of the Mathews gazed
dreamily out their own window as they flew over dozens of small, sun kissed
islands. Kneeling on her seat, she gathered with the others in the admiration
of the pristine blue waters of the Aegean Sea.
      “Have you been to Greece before?” John
asked from over her shoulder, nearly resting his chin on her shoulder.
    Shayla flinched as
the moist heat of his breath set a blazing trail of goose bumps over her entire
body. Mother of pearl what I wouldn’t do
to feel his gorgeous mouth on my neck. She managed to shake her head as her
words remained strangled in her throat. Inches between their faces, he slowly
and tortuously took in every speck of her face as if she were a painting
hanging in a gallery. She was worried she might spontaneously combust.
    John eased back,
buckling his seatbelt, giving her a chance to catch her breath.
    Arriving in Greece,
Tommy and Tess met them at the airport. Shayla embraced her uncle with open
arms, and observed as the Mathews greeted one another with true heartfelt
warmth. It was hard not to notice the palpable differences between this family
and Mat’s. Huggers. There was no
ceremonial greeting or staunch pretenses, simply adoration.
    Tommy’s resort-style
home perched on a cliff outside the bustling village. The stark white modern
home came complete with an amazing view of the Aegean Sea, a pool and enough
extra rooms