The worst moment came when I poured a draft of lager at the taps, and Cam leaned past me for some napkins that sat on the lowest shelf behind the bar. It brought his body up against mine.
I inhaled the masculine scent of bay rum and soap as he leaned down, and then I stopped breathing altogether. His face was at eye level with my chest. My whole body tensed, I was so hyper aware of him.
Prolonging the torturous moment, Cam’s fingers missed the napkins and he had to lean back in, his cheek brushing my right boob. I sucked in a breath and he froze momentarily.
When he straightened, I chanced a glance up at him from under my lashes and the darkly sexual glint in his eyes felt like a physical caress down my stomach toward my sex.
My sensitive nipples peaked against my bra. Uh-oh. Oh, my.