He flew out over the lake, let go, and fell in the water with a splash.
“That was a good one,” Jameson said.
The girls clapped, then held up their fingers—rating his jump, apparently. Cassidy and Scarlett gave him a seven, June held up a distracted-looking eight.
“Did Gibson just pull Jonah on a zip line with that four-wheeler?” I asked.
“Sure did.”
“That looks dangerous.”
Jameson shrugged. “I reckon it is a bit. You just have to make sure to let go in time so you don’t hit the rusty reef.”
“What’s the rusty reef?”
Jonah swam along the shoreline, then climbed onto something and stood tall, the water sparkling in the sun around him. It looked like he was standing on the water.
“That there is the rusty reef,” Jameson said, nodding toward Jonah. “We used to tow the zip line with a truck, until Nash drove his old Ford into the lake and couldn’t get it out. That’s when we switched to a four-wheeler. Jonah’s standing on the truck now.”
“There’s a truck out there?”
“Yeah,” he said. “We moved the zip line a bit so we’re less likely to crash into the truck—Buck learned that the hard way, but we appreciated him figuring out the physics for us.”
“Oh my god, was he okay?”
Jameson waved his hand. “Broke a leg, is all. He healed up just fine.”
I felt bad for laughing, but Jameson was so nonchalant about it.
“Are you going to do the zip line?” I asked.
“Course,” he said. “It’s a hell of a lot of fun.”
“Hey Jame, I’m up,” Gibson called. “You driving?”
“Yeah, I got you,” Jameson said, then looked at me. “What do you think?”
I looked over at the zip line. It started up the slope and went out over the water. “I think I’ll just watch.”
One corner of Jameson’s mouth hooked in a subtle grin. “You won’t be sayin’ that later.”
I blinked, gaping at him. I wasn’t sure if we were still talking about the zip line.
“Make yourself comfortable, darlin’.” He winked and pulled off his shirt, letting it drop to the sand, then stepped out of his shoes. “I need to go take Gibs for a ride. It’ll be your turn in a while.”
He backed away a few steps, still facing me, in nothing but a pair of shorts, his fantastic torso on full display. I couldn’t stop staring. He was lean and muscular without being bulky, and he had a tattoo across his chest and left shoulder that I’d never seen before.
I’d spent the last dozen years around models—male and female—and none of them had anything on Jameson Bodine. His appeal wasn’t in being photogenic, although I was sure he was. It was in his slightly messy hair, his stubbly jaw, and his body that looked like it was built to be used, not just to look pretty. In his rough hands and the scars on his forearms. In that boyish smile and the little trail of dark hair that disappeared beneath the waist of his shorts.
He winked again before jogging over to the four-wheeler. I swallowed hard and had to resist the urge to fan myself. But god, he was sexy.
“He’s really not bad, is he?” Cassidy asked. She was propped up on her elbows, looking over at Jameson from beneath her sunglasses.
“He’s a Bodine; of course he’s good-lookin’,” Scarlett said without looking over.
“I mean no disrespect, Leah Mae,” Cassidy said. “I’m just saying, objectively speaking, he’s a fine-looking man.”
I noticed Bowie scowling over by the fire, glancing back and forth between Jameson and Cassidy.
“My brothers are a right pain in the ass,” Scarlett said. “Each and every one of ’em. But they’re a good sort.”
“Mm-hmm,” Cassidy said.
I spread out my towel next to them and stripped down to my bikini. The warm sun felt good on my skin.
“Don’t forget sunscreen,” June said, tossing me a bottle of spray-on SPF-30. “Ultraviolet rays from the sun cause premature aging and skin cancer.”
“Thanks, June.” I sprayed on some sunscreen and rubbed it in. My skin was fair; I definitely needed it.