“You’ll get pulled under,” Molly yelled.
Oliver didn’t respond. Whether he didn’t hear or chose not to hear was a debatable point. Gavin was betting on the latter.
“He’s gonna stop right before the water. It’ll be epic,” Kellan announced as Gavin bolted past him toward Oliver. Lucky for them, Oliver wasn’t great on the rollerblades, so he was sliding across the wooden planks of the dock at a turtle’s pace.
Gavin could catch him. He was close.
“Don’t distract him,” Kellan hollered. “This takes concentration.”
They’d be discussing this later. Along with a consequence.
“Ollie, stop right now.” Molly heaved from several yards behind Gavin.
“Don’t worry,” Oliver yelled, his focus straight ahead on the body of water. “I know what I’m doing.”
Ten bucks said he didn’t. Another ten said he’d spent too much time with Gavin’s children, because there seemed to be some genetic transfer going on here that was going to cause extra gray hairs on Gavin’s head.
Pretty soon they’d start tree surfing and then everything would really go to shit.
The thud of Gavin’s shoes reverberated against the wood of the dock. But Oliver picked up speed. He was too far toward the end.
Gavin wouldn’t get to him in time.
His pulse thrummed faster, and he pushed forward harder, pulling off the jacket of his tux because, it appeared, he’d be taking a dip in the lake.
Not that he didn’t enjoy swimming. He did. Just not fully clothed in his best tuxedo.
But there was no way Oliver would tread water or stay afloat with those weights strapped to his legs.
“Dad, you’re in the way,” Kellan called from the dock steps. “I’m gonna miss it.”
Gavin kept his focus on Oliver. He’d deal with his kids afterward.
Oliver nearly reached the edge when he did a slow turn of the skates, stopping precisely on the lip of the dock.
Gavin stopped running, slowing to a jog because well, damn, that was actually a pretty excellent trick.
Color him impressed.
Oliver held his arms up in victory.
Gavin stalled mid-step. The victory salute knocked Oliver off balance, and he tumbled backward into the lake. Damn and a whole slew of cuss words slipped under Gavin’s breath as he bolted the rest of the dock and dove in after him.
Cold lake water embraced him, saturated his tuxedo, and stole his breath. He swam to the spot where Oliver sank, only a couple feet away. Close enough that Gavin caught a mask of underwater shock on his face.
Gavin had a hunch his face looked similar. He looped an arm around Oliver’s thin waist to tug him up.
Sure enough, the roller blades were heavier than all hell, but those years he’d spent as a brace-faced teenage lifeguard hadn’t been for nothing. He yanked Oliver toward the surface. Breaking through to oxygen, Gavin heaved air into his lungs and boosted Oliver up to the waiting arms of his mother.
Molly looked equal parts relieved and ready to explode—a toxic combination with the opposite sex, in Gavin’s limited experience. That mix of emotion had never boded well for him, personally.
With Oliver safely back topside, Gavin swam a side-stroke to the ladder nailed to the dock. He climbed up, cursing internally but keeping his mouth shut, since he didn’t need the boys repeating any of the words simmering in his brain.
Gavin emerged at the edge of the dock to four sets of wide, shocked eyes.
Molly was mid-removal of the rollerblades. She opened her mouth to say something, but snapped it closed. He swore she growled toward her son.
Gavin pulled himself to stand on the dock, dripping his own lake at his feet. “Kellan.”
