Fighting Our Way (Broken Tracks 2)

He shrugs. “Prove it.”

“You… you… ugh!” I slap my hands against the water, splashing myself in the face. “You don’t play fair, mister!”

He rolls his eyes and bends down, putting out his hand. “Since you’re such a sore loser, I’ll help you up.”

I keep a pout on my face as I slowly reach forward, placing my hand softly in his. “You can’t be a loser if the person against you cheated.” He grunts in response, but when he starts to pull me up, I throw my weight backward, pulling him back into the water and quickly yanking myself up onto the dock, jumping up and down. “Who’s the loser now?”

He swipes a hand through his wet hair, dispelling water droplets before scrubbing at his face. I’m not sure which one of us is more affected: him with being thrown into the water, or me watching as his biceps tense from the movement, making my mouth water.

“You’re so not getting away with that!”

I jump back, hiding behind the kids as he lifts himself up onto the dock and steps forward, his arms outstretched. “No!” I squeal, my stomach dipping as I run around the kids and he chases after me.

“Go, Uncle Nate!” Izzie shouts, which is followed by Clay saying, “Run, Amelia!”

I run across the dock as far as I can go—which isn’t far at all—but he catches me around the waist from behind, lifting me up off the wooden surface.

“Nate,” I warn.

He buries his face into the crook of my neck. “Gotcha now.”

“Throw her in!” I try to pull myself out of his grip when Izzie says that, whipping around to see the giant grin on her face.

My gaze connects with Clay’s as he stalks behind Izzie, his hand coming up to his lips to signal I keep quiet. My eyes widen as he wraps his arms around her waist and throws her in.

“Aaaah!” Her arms flail in the air beside her before there’s a big splash as she hits the water. Clay dives in after her, swimming over to her when she breaks the surface and leaving only me and Nate on the dock, his arms banded around me still, the muscles under his wet skin tensing against my back.

“Let me go,” I say, although what I really want to say is “pull me closer.”

I feel his breath skating across my ear as he whispers, “Never,” before jumping in with me in tow.

We hit the water, and as we go under, he still doesn’t let me go. I feel safe: safer than I’ve ever felt in my life knowing he won’t let me go.

I spin in his arms as we break the surface, coughing and spluttering but with a giant smile on my face. His eyes swirl with laughter but also something else I’m sure I’m imagining, but when they dip to my lips, I know I saw it.

Clay and Izzie’s shouts and laughter can be heard near us, but if they weren’t here, I have no doubt he would press his lips against mine, that he would pull me even closer—if that’s even possible.

My hand flutters up and over his arm to his forehead as I swipe some of his hair back. “I want nothing more than to kiss you right now,” I confess.

His gaze flits between my eyes before he looks behind us as we both tread water. The kids are happily heading back toward the sand and he looks back

s at me. “Hold your breath on three.”

“Wh—”

“One, two, three.”

I do as he says, holding my breath and he pulls us down under the water. Both of our eyes are open and able to see each other through the clear blue water. His lips connect with mine in a soft, closed mouth kiss before he brings us back up, a smirk on his face.

I turn my head to check on the kids who are now sitting on the sand, Izzie with a towel wrapped around her shoulders.

“That was inventive,” I say, pulling back when his grip loosens on my waist.

“Just call me the dream maker,” he jokes cheesily.

“Chef and dream maker, huh?” I raise a brow but don’t give him the chance to answer as I slip under the water and start swimming back toward the sand, my arms stretching with each stroke.

He overtakes me just before we hit the shallow water, standing up first and heading over to where Clay and Izzie are. He grabs two towels, handing one to me when I walk up beside him.