Larissa's POV
I tugged my cover-up over my damp bikini as we made our way back toward the house. The afternoon sun streamed through the swaying palm fronds above us, creating patches of light and shadow on the stone pathway beneath our feet.
Carson walked just ahead of me, and I found my gaze drawn to the way his shoulders moved under his shirt, the fabric still clinging to his skin from our time in the water.
"Colter should have lunch waiting for us," Carson said, turning to look at me over his shoulder. "Are you hungry?"
"Absolutely starving," I replied. "Something about swimming always works up my appetite."
"Perfect. His ceviche is legendary."
