I stupidly steal a glance in her direction out of the corner of my eye to catch her lifting her dress overhead.
Fuck, she’s taking her clothes off.
How do rocks get so smooth, anyway?
The saliva’s pooling at the back of my throat faster than I can swallow it. And actually, I’m insanely jealous of the way Rob can sit there oglingmy girlwithout a fucking worry in the world. Yet if I so much as take notice of her presence here, I’m sure they’ll be on to me in an instant.
Maybe one glance…if I play it super cool.
I pretend as though I’ve lost track of my dog, scanning real slowly over the riverbank, taking my time to ensure she didn’t run off.
Fuck.
She’s in a black one-piece suit that dips dangerously low in the front.
Okay, I’ve spotted Betty.I give a little nod to myself that says I finally saw what I was looking for, then allow one more gradual scan of the crowd, lingering a bit on Whit. On her long creamy legs, and the curve of her hips, and the sheen covering her breasts, and the way she tilts her face toward the sun.
I’m so in my head, I nearly miss Red calling me over for my turn in the competition. My vision’s hazy, and I wipe sweat from my brow with the back of my hand on the awkward stumble toward him.
Sliding my hands up the rope to just above a knot Denny added for grip, I swing. When the clear blue sky is visible among the tree canopy, I know I’m over the river. Fearless, I let go and give in to the free fall for half a second. My stomach and heart seem to switch positions on my backwards tuck.
Smack.
The near-freezing water slaps my back, knocking the wind from my chest with a sharp, painful implosion that I know I’ll feel for days. Instantly my skin’s stinging from the impact, and I fight to upright myself in the river’s current so I can locate the surface. Then I let myself stay six feet underwater, staring up at the sun’s rays dancing on the surface, until my body instinctively fights to save itself. Though drowning might bepreferential to facing Whit, whodefinitelywon’t be interested in dating me after this.
“Yikes, man,” Denny calls the moment my head bobs above the water. “You good?”
“Fuckin’ouch.” I carefully run the tips of my fingers over the tender spot in the center of my lower back.
There’s a collective wincing on my behalf. The searing sensation under my skin seems to get worse once I drag my ass out of the water. I refuse to make eye contact with Whit, though Jonas is causing a ruckus next to her.
Three points across the board. Even that feels like a pity score.
“Zero out of ten recommend doing whatever the hell that was,” I say, taking a slow, wobbly seat on a rock.
All my limbs work, so I didn’t gettoohurt. Pride took a hell of a beating, though.
Oh, yeah. And it looks like I’m growing a damn mustache now. I’m going to look like my dad’s younger doppelgänger.
“Honestly, man.” Denny slaps a hand on my shoulder and passes me a beer. “I think I might grow one with you for the hell of it. Last time Blair and I dated, I couldn’t grow more than some patchy scruff on my chin. Maybe she’ll be into it.”
Is it weird to say I hope she is, because that might mean her sister also likes facial hair?I don’t think that’s really how shit works. Sisters don’t find the same things attractive, do they? I chew on the inside of my cheek, mulling over the concept. I mean, I think my brother’s girl is pretty. Granted, she’s a famous country singer, so I suppose most of the male species finds her hot.
“Guess I’ll be offering mustache rides at the next rodeo.” I run a finger over my currently smooth upper lip.
Suddenly wide-eyed, Denny snaps his fingers. “You need a mustache ride T-shirt. Have it say ‘Free forMILFs’ or something.”
Wait. Does he…?
I look him up and down, waiting for confirmation that he knows about my crush on his girlfriend’s sister. Thankfully, there’s no indication he’s any the wiser.
I’ve been pretty careful not to tell any of the ranch hands that I’ve hung out with her. I heard the shit-talking around the bunkhouse when Red was driving half an hour to Wells Canyon every day for his girl—and she waspregnantat the time. Denny was a bit sneakier, acting like his shoulder injury was acting up and he was heading to the clinic. Not that it lasted long before everybody noticed him ogling the shit out of her on the ranch day in and day out.
Nope. Instead, I let everyone believe I’m visiting my mom more than usual. Let them think I’m a mama’s boy—which,to be fair,I kind of am. And I keep my covert glances at Whit to a minimum, even when her dripping wet body emerging from the water makes it damn near impossible.
Doesn’t stop me from thinking about her nonstop, though. So much that her ears must start ringing; late in the evening Whit finally makes good use of having my phone number.
Future Wife:How’s your back after that crash today?
