Single Dad's Spring Break: A Billionaire's Second Chance Romance

“The fuck is a ‘bee-spoked’ suit?” Lizzie asked.

“A ‘bespoke suit’ is a suit that is made from scratch and tailored to the body of the person purchasing it,” I said. “And yes, Dylan’s the one in the navy suit.”

“You know what I think of that? I think gettin’ over someone requires you gettin’ under someone else,” Lizzie said.

“You would think that,” I said. “And at any rate, they are my brother’s friends as well as mine. Hunter would have my head on a platter if I stepped anywhere near them in that manner.”

“You know as well as I do that them country boys like ruinin’ the innocent girl-next-door. I’d take advantage of it. I bet Michael couldn’t fuck you like Dylan or Caleb could,” Lizzie said.

“I don’t want ‘Michael’ and ‘fuck’ to ever be in the same sentence ever again,” I said.

“What about, ‘Michael is the fucking pits’?” Whitney asked.

“Or, ‘Michael can fucking suck a dick’?” Lizzie asked.

“Or, ‘Michael can drive off a fucking cliff and die in a fucking pit of flames’?” Whitney asked.

“Okay, okay. I get it. You guys hate him. I’m not marrying him so we can get off it, right?” I asked.

“Just makin’ sure all them phrases was good,” Lizzie said.

We laughed as the hot water around us relaxed our bodies. I sank down to my chin, allowing the wine we had shared earlier to permeate throughout my body. I still missed my beer, but for some reason, I couldn't bring myself to drink it as of yet. It had tasted so good going down that afternoon that I was afraid I would lose myself again.

Lose myself to the drinking I once did in college, and unleash a side of me I’ve locked up for so many years.

Suddenly, a door opened. I turned my head toward the sound and saw the brothers walking out of the changing room. They were clad in bathing suits, their muscles chiseled and flexing as they walked toward the hot tub. They all looked at me as they made their way for us, their legs flexing with strength and their arms pulsing with protruding veins.

Wyatt was first in line and I couldn’t help b

ut stare. He was the shortest of the brothers, though still being over six feet didn’t exactly qualify for “short.” His shoulders were incredibly broad and his well-muscled chest tapered off in a delicious V that pointed toward the goods he packed in his swim trunks.

Caleb and Andrew followed side-by-side. They each stood around six three and boasted well-defined pecs. Though not as broad of shoulder as Wyatt, they were still big boys, with well-muscled arms and thick thighs that had me drooling.

Bringing up the rear was Dylan. His eyes and hair were the darkest of all of them, and the silver threaded through his temples showed that he was the oldest. He was also the tallest, standing damn near six foot six. He was more slender than his brothers but could still lift a fifty pound bag of feed just as easily as the next guy.

Haveeee mercy…

Oh, my gosh. They were going to get in with us.

“Mhm. Mhm. Mhmmmm. Aren’t you all lookin mighty fine today,” Lizzie said. “Got a question for ya.”

“Lizzie. Stop it,” Whitney said.

“I’m just wonderin’ if it’s against resort policy to drink in the hot tub, y’all. I wanna get us another bottle of wine. So is it?” Lizzie asked with a giggle.

“Usually, it is,” Dylan said as he got in. “But since there isn’t anyone here but us, and the three of you, I’d say go for it.”

“Wait. He’s serious?” Lizzie asked.

“I think he is,” I said with a grin.

“Just grab us some beers if you gonna get out,” Andrew said.

“A few, actually. Beers in the hot tub sounds nice,” Caleb said.

“Sounds like the good ol’ days,” Wyatt said.

“I don’t know what kinda ‘good ol’ days’ ya’ll had, but I didn’t have none of them days. So, bottle of wine and a shit-ton of beers. Got it,” Lizzie said.