Feels Like Summertime (Lake Fisher 1)
Page 82
“Me too,” I say. I want Freddy to be happy.
Freddy gets out of the lake, but Jake stays treading water at the end of the dock. “Come and join me, Katie,” he calls.
“What do I get out of it if I do?” I call back.
“Me!” he returns.
I pass Hank, who is sound asleep, to Freddy and shuck off my t-shirt and shorts, since I’d put a bathing suit on under my clothes earlier. “Watch my baby, Freddy.”
“Like he’s my own,” Freddy says, and they walk back to their cabin.
Jake pulls me to him when I get to him in the water. “I’m going to need another shower,” I say.
“Pop left condoms on my bed for me.”
“Oh, my God!” I cry. “I found a box in my bedside table!”
“Pop strikes again,” Jake says, and then his arms slide around and he pulls me close.
“I’m glad you made up with Freddy,” I say.
“Me, too.” He nuzzles my neck. “I’ve missed him.”
“Tonight, after the kids are asleep, do you want to come to my room?”
“Hmm…he hums. “What are we going to be doing in your room?”
“We could play cards,” I suggest.
“Cards? I don’t think so.” He cups my breast on the water and gives it a squeeze.
“We could build a house out of Popsicle sticks.”
He shakes his head. “Nah.”
“We could play hide the salami.”
He pulls back so he can look at my face, his brows lifting toward the heavens. “You have been spending entirely too much time with Pop.”
“You don’t like my idea?” I bat my wet lashes at him.
“I love your idea. I’m just not sure if I want to think of salami when I finally get to be inside you.”
I wrap my legs around his waist. “Would you rather think about my awesome flower petals opening right up and taking you inside?”
He arches his hips, bumping against me, and my belly does that twisty thing that only happens with him. “I can still taste you on my tongue.”
“My awesome flower, you mean?” I laugh when he growls against my neck and comes up to nibble my ear.
Suddenly, bodies fly over our heads and hit the lake. I recognize Adam and Dad, three of my children, and then there’s a sixth splash as Sally hits the water.
“Sally can swim?” I ask Jake.
“I have no idea. I’ve spent exactly five minutes with that dog since I got him.”
Sally swims a circle around Trixie, sticking right with her. “He’s a good dog, Jake,” I tell him. “When we get married, I’m going to adopt him.”
Jake sucks in a breath.