Page 56

Never in life did she imagine being jealous of a bird.

“Let me guess, the loon broke up with the other loon and now they’re trying to divide their twigs and leaves properly, but they still love each other.”

Tea rolled her eyes as she turned toward a smirking Archer. He was in his swimsuit, his chest covered by a life jacket.

She lifted the book in her hand. “Guessing you’ve read this before.”

He let out a breath. “It’s a steamy one.”

Her mouth split into a grin. “No breakups. They actually incubate for twenty-eight days once they make a nest.”

“Sounds dirty.”

“Archer. They’re birds.”

“Where do you think baby loons come from, Tea?” His eyes gleamed with mischief. “You know, when a mommy loon and a daddy loon love each other very much—”

She tossed her book at him. It bounced off his jacket and tumbled to the grass.

He chuckled as he picked up the book. “Want to go water skiing, or do you want to sit here and read more about bird sex?”

“You’re insufferable.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He cocked his head. “Go get your suit on.”

She sighed, then stood up and peeled off her sundress, stripping down to her suit.

Archer stood before her in complete silence, his eyes wide.

She placed her hands on her hips. “Archer, I know you too well.” She pointed to the lake. “It’s smooth as glass out there. I knew you were going to ask me.”

He cleared his throat, then nodded as he looked down at the grass.

She tilted her head. “Something wrong?”

He coughed a laugh and shook his head, looking back up at her after a beat.

Dilated pupils. Flushed cheeks. Clenched jaw. Good god.

Archer covered his mouth and scratched his face. “Nice bikini,” he muttered.

He didn’t give her the chance to say anything in response as he walked straight for the water.

Moments later, as she clicked on her life jacket and sank into a seat on Rhonda’s boat, a small smile crept up her left cheek.

“You got this!”

Her hands fumbled as she attempted to slip the ski on underwater. “No, I really don’t think I do!”

Archer grasped the end of the boat, the muscles in his arms flexing as he leaned over.

“Cheap shot,” she grumbled to herself.

“What was that?” he called to her.

She snatched the rope and pulled the handle toward her. “Put the guns away!” she called back at him.

He looked down at his arms then back up at her, arching a brow.