Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 34025 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 170(@200wpm)___ 136(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34025 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 170(@200wpm)___ 136(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)
“Could you be any cringier, Dad?” I sharpened my tone with false annoyance. The truth was, I enjoyed his bad jokes and the fact that he still wanted to play with me.
“Is that a challenge?” he asked, his warm breath tickling my ear.
I let my head fall back onto his shoulder. “Please, no. I’ll die of embarrassment.” I winced as he gently removed my sunglasses and then slid them over his own eyes. They looked comically small on his head.
“How about now? Am I cool yet?”
“The coolest.”
He probably expected me to pull away from him the instant the playful tone dissipated, but I liked having his strong arms wrapped around me. It felt good. I closed my eyes and focused on the rhythmic beating of my dad’s heartbeat against my back.
But the calm was short-lived as I found myself imagining another woman in my place. I had a gnawing suspicion that as soon as I stepped out of the picture, I’d be replaced. A great man like my dad wouldn’t stay single for long once he put himself out there. Soon enough, someone would catch his eye and he’d begin doing whatever it took to make her happy. I should’ve wanted that for him. My father deserved to be happy, too. So why did the thought of him holding a stranger in his arms make me want to curl up and die?
The sound of men’s voices reached us through the trees. I glanced in the direction the voices were coming from just as four men emerged from the forest. One of them stopped short when he saw my dad and me, prompting the others to do the same. Their laughter and conversation trailed off. Maybe it was just my imagination, but it seemed as if their stares lingered on me longer than necessary.
My dad must have noticed it, too, because his body instantly tensed. He released me, handing back my sunglasses before positioning himself at my side just as the group of men reached the pool.
“Hey, there,” said a pale, dark-haired man. He raised his hand in greeting. “Nice day for a dip, isn’t it?”
“Perfect,” Dad agreed. He was smiling pleasantly, but I knew him well enough to pick up on the tension in his voice.
The men began to undress. It quickly became apparent that they hadn’t bothered to wear swimsuits under their clothing like we did. I looked away, my cheeks burning as they took their time changing into their trunks.
I had only seen a naked man once before in real life, and I used the term man loosely since he was around my age. The senior guys on my high school’s track team had dared their slowest sprinter to streak across the football field during homecoming. But that was just a prank. This felt different, awkward… I kept my gaze trained on the bubbles in the center of the pool until one of the men—the dark-haired one who’d said hello—called out to us, his voice closer.
“Where are you two from?” the man asked.
I glanced up to see that the whole group had joined us in the water, though two of them kept to the other side of the pool. I wasn’t very good at guessing people’s ages, but they all seemed at least ten years older than me, maybe in their late twenties.
“Washington,” my dad said. Before the man could request specifics, he added, “You?”
“East coast, mostly.” He pointed to a preppy-looking blond guy across the pool and said, “Zeb’s from New York. Ox is from Jersey.” The man he called Ox certainly lived up to his name; he was the largest member of the group, both in terms of height and build. “Martin just moved to Florida, lucky bastard.”
It wasn’t until the talkative guy pointed him out that I noticed the bald man with glasses—Martin—staring at me in a way that made my skin crawl. He continued to stare even after I acknowledged him. I instinctively pressed closer to my dad’s side. Dad hooked his arm around my shoulders, blocking Martin’s view of my face with his fist.
“And what do they call you?” he asked the first man.
“My god, how could I forget.” The talkative man waded over to shake my dad’s hand. “I’m Duke.”
“Erik,” my dad said. “This is my daughter, Willow.”
Duke fixed his gaze on me, and I instantly felt cold. Up close, his eyes were like two dark wells rimmed with ice that you could tumble down forever without reaching the bottom. How had my dad managed to hold this man’s gaze so steadily and for so long?
“Nice to meet you both,” Duke said, settling into the water. “Is this your first trip to Yellowstone?”
“Actually, it’s our fifth,” I replied.
“Wow. You two must know your way around.”
Dad continued to make small talk with Duke about Yellowstone and our experience on the trail. Thankfully the man hadn’t spared me a second glance since we were introduced, but I couldn’t shake the sensation of an unwelcome gaze upon my skin. Sure enough, when I peered over my dad’s clenched fist, Martin was still watching me intently.