Maybe from a hand pulling back too late.
My body tightened.
Isa noticed instantly. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“Drew.”
I looked back at her.
The last thing I wanted was to pour the Montgomery poison into this water.
But I didn’t like the feeling.
Didn’t like the shadow.
Didn’t like the idea of Beckett or Everett watching what didn’t belong to them.
I cupped the back of her head and kissed her.
Slow first.
Then deeper because she opened for me with a sigh that made the water feel warmer. Her legs brushed mine. Her body floated against me, slick and soft and laughing one second ago, hungry now.
I pulled back before I forgot where we were.
“Careful,” I murmured. “They’re pervs. I don’t want to give them a show.”
Her eyes narrowed.
Then she splashed me directly in the face.
“Isa.”
“You ruined the moment.”
“I protected the moment.”
“You accused your family of dock voyeurism.”
“With reason.”
She splashed me again.
I grabbed her around the waist and spun her through the water until she laughed loud enough that the house could hear it.
Good.
Let them.
Let Richard hear laughter in his perfect backyard and wonder why it had never belonged to him.
Eventually, we climbed out, dripping and breathless. I wrapped her in a towel first, rubbing her arms because she was shivering even while insisting she wasn’t cold.
“I’m fine,” she said through chattering teeth.
“No athlete says that and means anything but catastrophic denial.”
