Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 103102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Is she trying to push us together? Or is she simply on the same keep-River-away-from-Lexi mission?
Fern gets to work on Lexi’s back. After a brief pout, Lexi sinks into their conversation. She and Fern laugh about one of the guys who used to live on our block, the one who always did push-ups in the park.
River dressed the part of the gentleman in a button-up linen shirt and European-style swim shorts. (They’re short in the best, most deliciously thigh-baring way. Thighs. Who knew?)
He tries to play the gentleman, too, by not staring at Lexi’s ass, but he doesn’t quite get there.
Until he looks at me.
Then, all at once, his attention is strictly on me.
He doesn’t stare the way he stares at Lexi, but I feel an intensity to his gaze all the same. A heat.
Or maybe that’s the bright sun.
Why is he staring like that?
Right. Sunscreen. I pull an extra bottle from the beach bag and hold it up.
“Here?” he asks.
I lead him a few feet away. Far enough that we’re out of earshot of Lexi and Fern and Ida.
“You’ll have to take this off.” His fingers skim the back line of my black cover-up.
It’s strange. The fabric is sheer, almost transparent, but I don’t want to remove it. I want to keep it as a shield.
Why do I need a shield from him?
He only has eyes for Lexi.
Only he’s looking at me.
I take a deep breath and let out a steady exhale. This is good. If he wants me, even if it’s strictly physical, he might realize his feelings for Lexi aren’t the love he sees them as.
Maybe he’ll want me enough to get caught up in the moment.
That’s another way to keep him away from Lexi.
To keep him busy, with me.
I can take one for the team. Really, it’s not an altogether unpleasant mental image. What would his tattooed arm look like on my hips anyway?
Or between my legs?
On my throat?
Ahem.
I blink and focus on my surroundings. The warm sand, the spray of salt water, the crash of waves, the blue-green ocean bleeding into the bright yet cloudy sky.
It all feels more intense as I pull my cover-up over my head.
He looks me over slowly. He doesn’t try to hide it. Not the gaze and not the attraction.
My skin flushes. My chest and stomach and cheeks, too. I turn, so he can’t see, so he gets my back.
He takes the sunscreen from my hand, squeezes a dab on his palm, and brings his fingers to my shoulder.
Slowly, he rubs the cream into my upper shoulder. The feeling of his touch is so strange. Familiar—he is my next-door neighbor—but charged with something totally unfamiliar.
An attraction.
A desire.
Is it coming from him or me?
Am I falling for the guy obsessed with my sister?
Maybe he’s right about destiny, and this is mine. Forever fated to fall for the guy who loves Lexi.
I close my eyes and push the thoughts away. No. This is a normal neighbor-slash-friend thing. Sunscreen. We all need it. And he’s helping.
It doesn’t mean anything.
The flutter in my stomach is out of place. The goose bumps on my skin, too.
And the sheer thrill as he rubs sunscreen into my upper back—
That’s nothing.
He works slowly and carefully, down my back, then he goes to my shoulders, and he says something.
I don’t hear it. “Huh?”
He leans close enough to whisper. “Should I get the front, too?”
I see it immediately—his hands on my chest, my bikini top on the floor. “No. I’ve got it. Thanks.”
He hands over the sunscreen. “Good luck.”
With what? He leaves before I can ask. I watch him join Fern and Lexi’s conversation as I slather lotion across my chest, stomach, legs.
After I’m fully covered, I drop the bottle in our beach bag, and I join Ida at the chairs.
We’re only ten feet from the rest of the gang, but we’re too far away to hear anything.
Still, I don’t want to stare. I need to look at something else. The beautiful blue sky, maybe. Or the miles and miles of sand. The twenty-something guy in red board shorts and thick sunglasses, sitting at the lifeguard tower, surveying the scene.
He sits there and watches all afternoon.
A tedious job but an important one. Sure, he mostly sits there, staring at the expanses of blue. But if there’s someone drowning, he needs to jump into action.
He needs to be ready at any moment.
“Are you going to watch them talk the entire morning?” Ida asks, pulling me out of my head.
“It’s almost afternoon,” I say.
She laughs the way River does, with the perfect mix of enthusiasm and distance. “The entire afternoon then?”
“I have a book.” And the ability to put my attention elsewhere. Say, on Ms. Ida Beau. She’s an amazing woman. She’s even totally on trend, somehow making the Coastal Grandma white linen outfit into something sexy. And sexy in a mature way. In a way that says I have all this knowledge and experience to impart.