I stifle a laugh while I tread water. I’m not far out—just far enough that it’s too deep for me to stand up. “You should come back and swim,” I call to Dane after he’s made sure Chili’s settled in the shade again. “We can finish talking out here. It feelsso good.”
Especially after yesterday’s heat.
How did I forget how much I love a dip in the lake?
Dane gets Chili leashed to a park bench, and then he strips off his wet T-shirt and his shorts, going down to black boxer briefs.
It’s not the chill of the lake making my nipples tighten.
That’s the effect of looking at my hometown best friend’s brother practically naked.
When I say I don’t date, it’s not that I’m opposed to the idea.
I just rarely find a man who’s interesting enough to take along with me while I sightsee and enjoy the city. Or who’s worth giving up the time I’d otherwise spend seeing shows and exploring museums and discovering new restaurants.
Especially when there’s always that lingering question in the back of my head:Will my family approve? What if they find something wrong with him?
Grow up hiding your best friend from your parents because of a generations-long feud, and you get paranoid about how your family will react to the people you want to bring into your life.
Yazmin says my preference for not dating is a defense mechanism.
She’s probably not wrong.
But here in Tinsel, Dane Silver is fascinating. I already know my familydoesn’tlike him and we’re pretending to be engaged anyway, so why not enjoy the fact that he’s legitimately sexy as hell?
Plus, he got me fruitcake.
You don’t want to know the number of people who’ve mocked me for liking it. Actually, you can probably guess.
It’s not a small number.
So people who feed it to me without mocking me get extra bonus points.
Dane wades out. His dark hair is standing up at all angles after the dog chase into the lake, and he runs his fingers through it, pushing it back one last time before he does a shallow dive and slips under the surface.
He appears beside me a few seconds later. “Little colder than my pool back home.”
“You have a pool?”
“Condo complex does.”
“You swim?”
“Most days.”
I can see it. He has that long, angular swimmer’s body, and he’s far more solid than I would’ve given him credit for in high school.
Actually, I wouldn’t have thought about him like this in high school.
But my brain and my libido are on overdrive this morning.
“You?” he says.
My face goes hot. “Hm?”
“Do you swim?”
Right.
