Harry and Bennett were descending the slight slope from the cottage, each with a bundle over their shoulder.
“We brought the rest,” Harry said cheerfully, hoisting his load. “Figured we’d speed this along. Maybe get a swim out of it.”
Bennett smiled in a small, apologetic way, his arms full of trousers.
“You don’t have to,” she began.
“We know,” Harry said. “That’s why it’s fun.”
They made a show of rolling up their trousers, then, with a whoop, stepped straight into the water, splashing her in the process. “Hey!” she protested, laughing as the cold hit her.
“Oops,” Harry said, utterly unconvincing. “My foot slipped.”
Bennett’s quieter chuckle joined hers. They helped wash for a while, the three of them falling into an easy rhythm. Harry teased each shirt as if the garment were responsible for the dirt. Bennett hummed while he worked, a half-remembered tune from somewhere far away.
After the last shirt was wrung out and laid on the rocks, Snow White sank back onto her heels, stretching her arms. The sun was warm on her face for the first time in days. The chill water had numbed her feet, but her blood felt pleasantly heated from the work.
She sensed it before she saw it: the weight of their gazes shifting from the laundry to her. She opened her eyes. Harry and Bennett stood side by side in the shallows, water lapping at their calves. Both had paused halfway through whatever they’d been doing, eyes fixed on her with a warmth that made her cheeks flush. “What?” she asked, half-laughing, self-conscious.
“Nothing,” Harry said, though the dimple in his cheek gave him away. “Just thinking we’re very lucky bastards.”
Bennett nodded, his expression softer. “You look happy,” he said. “By the water. It suits you.” The compliment landed differently than the usual ones. Happiness was not something people often told her she wore well.
On impulse, she stood. Her dress clung to her shins, already damp from splashing. The stream glinted, inviting. The men’s smiles were easy, familiar. “Turn around,” she said.
Harry raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
“So you won’t get an eyeful too early,” she said, surprising herself with the boldness in her tone.
They laughed, but they obeyed, facing the bank.
With quick fingers, she unlaced the front of her dress and pulled it over her head. The air kissed her bare skin, raisinggoosebumps along her arms. She set the dress on a dry rock, then reached back to untie her chemise.
Sliding into the water naked was shocking, cold, and exhilarating. The current curled around her thighs, then her waist, then—when she ducked lower—her shoulders, washing away soap and sweat and the constant, invisible weight of eyes.
“All right,” she called. “You can look now.”
They turned. For a heartbeat, no one spoke.
She stood waist-deep in the stream, hair tumbling over her shoulders, water beading on her skin. The sunlight turned the droplets into tiny sparks as they slid down her collarbones, over the rise of her breasts, along the soft curve of her stomach.
She felt vulnerable and wild at once.
Harry let out a low whistle. “Now that,” he said, “is a sight to cure a man of mining forever.”
Bennett swallowed, color high in his cheeks. “You’re so breathtaking,” he confessed quietly. “I still can’t even believe it.”
She met his gaze steadily. “This time I want you both,” she started, confidently. “On my terms.” That last bit was new, and it rang true in her own ears.
Harry and Bennett exchanged a glance. Then, with twin grins—Harry’s shameless, Bennett’s still tinged with shyness—they stripped off their clothes and waded toward her.
The water swirled around them, cool on hot skin. Hands found her under the surface—one sliding along her hip, another tracing the line of her spine. Mouths found her shoulders, her throat, the hollow at the base of her neck. She laughed when Harry splashed her, gasped when Bennett’s hand cupped her behind.
In the cool water they played, naked, together. Harry being silly, and Bennett devoted to her—as usual. Harry splashed around and flirted, stealing glances and proposing dares. Bennett kissed her softly, deeply, and then lowered his head toexplore her nipples with his tongue, his warmth on her breasts, contrasted with the cold water Harry splashed on them.
“Snow, Bennett wants you to take him in your mouth,” Harry said sing-songedly.
Bennett blushed. He had never presented himself for her mouth, thinking it was probably a little demeaning for a woman. But Snow White jumped at the chance.
