“Hey!” Anita cries, giving me a wink. “Why does Summer have to pick?”
Ivy smiles and it’s brilliant and wide. “Good point.”
I glance back over my shoulder, looking at the three of them around the fire. Whit’s still up at the house. There’s no chance I’m choosing one of these guys over the other, and if that means I have to burn hot and fast while I’m here, I’ll do it.
* * *
“I’m headed up to the house. Anyone need anything?” I ask a short while later, the boys came up one by one, rinsing off and changing into dry clothes.
“Yes! There are a few blankets in the chest in the front bedroom. Can you go grab a few?” Maggie asks.
“Sure,” I reply, already on the boardwalk. I drank two bottles of water when I got down to the beach and my bladder is screaming. The house has a traditional feel—not one of the massive new builds popping up all over. It’s on stilts but one level. The walls are paneled in pine and the floors match. I quickly use the bathroom, taking a minute to straighten my windblown hair and tug up the zipper on my hoodie. I’m wearing cotton shorts and a tank top but it gets cool at night on the beach, so I came prepared.
Exiting the bathroom, I head to the front bedroom, flinging open the door. Standing in the middle of the room is Nick, tall, broad, and shirtless. A football player’s body. Oh, he’s also only wearing black, snug boxer briefs.
Yowza.
“Shit, uh…sorry.” I touch my neck. “Maggie asked me to come up and get some blankets.”
I can’t keep my eyes off his body and think about how close I’ve been to it in the car, working on my mom’s story and everything else, unaware of how absolutely magnificent it is. Dark hair scatters over his chest and then again between his belly button and the tops of the briefs. It’s like an arrow pointing down and the thin layer of material covering his…
My eyes snap back up.
“I think they’re in that chest,” he says, ignoring my ogling and pointing to the end of the bed. I nod and walk over, flipping up the lid. Bending over, I collect three soft blankets but rise slowly when I feel movement behind me. Gentle fingertips touch the back of my neck, brushing aside my hair. A thrill runs through my body.
“I told you I couldn’t wait to get you alone. I feel like this is the fates tempting us.”
I spin, keeping the blankets between us, and find myself looking into eyes made of molten chocolate. His lips are perfectly pink, full, and the sharp cut of his jaw tightens with restrained desire.
I should say something…anything, but I can’t form words. Nick removes the blankets from my hands and I swallow, eyeing the bulge of his biceps. I want to spend time on those muscles. Explore them. Feel them. I finally find my voice, “I think they’re waiting for these blankets.”
His eyes flick from my eyes to my mouth to my heaving chest then back again. His lips curve seductively and he closes the gap. A warm, big hand slips around my waist and pulls me until I’m pressed against his hard body. “I think they’re going to have to wait a little bit longer.”
I nod, breathless for no good reason, other than having waited for this kiss for a long time now. Nick had been the one to tell me about the Pact, to open the door on the possibilities of spending time with each of these men, but circumstances had left us without the time or opportunity to act.
I don’t know what to expect, but it’s not the soft gentleness of that first kiss. His lips move slowly, carefully, sensuously, making every nerve of my body a trembling mess. There’s a raw intensity, like he’s holding back a stronger force but he doesn’t want to unleash it all at once. I don’t care, because his lips taste like a mixture of the salt from the ocean and the cherry popsicle that dyed his tongue, and his hands make me feel safe.
His heart hammers under my fingertips and a low groan rumbles in his chest. The longer the kiss goes on, his tongue sweeping into my mouth, the more urgent he grows until he stops abruptly and we’re both gasping for air.
“Jesus,” he mumbles, running his hand over his short hair.
My hands shake.
It takes every inch of willpower not to look at the bed behind me. It takes extreme control to pick up the blankets and clutch them to my chest, a false barrier between the two of us. It’s like dragging a magnet away from metal, a moth away from the flame, when I force my feet to move, to walk out across the room and out the door.
Warm beach air slaps me across the face, the ocean roars in my ears, and I don’t look back when I hear the screen door screech behind me.
Nick was right. The fates are testing us.
Because whatever was going to happen between us would require time.
Lots of it, and I’m not rushing through whatever it is building between us.
With the sun setting and the fire blazing, no one notices us come back, one at a time, to the beach and take our seats. We settle in and the boys drink beer while Ivy passes around a fruity punch. They tell stories and Pete pulls out his guitar and it’s a good night. A really good night, and for the first time since I’ve arrived at Ocean Beach it feels like everything is moving too fast.
Chapter 16
I wake the next day smelling of smoke and sea air, my hair a rat’s nest on the pillow. My bed is cozy—the camper quiet—it’s the early part of the day before the sun starts to bake on the silver camper. I take a moment to stretch out and think about the summer, the night before. Pact or no pact, things are escalating with the guys. I feel it in my bones. The little looks, the casual touch, the heated moment between me and Nick in that bedroom. Day after day I want to know more about them, their lives, their childhoods, their pasts. I want to be part of this family--something I’ve never had before--and I don’t know if it’s possible if I keep kissing them.