Page 62 of Coming Up Roses

Cash

I walkto the edge of the water, right where the twins are playing, but my eyes never move from her body. No, I stare unabashedly as she removes the breezy cover-up she's hiding under.

She toys with the hem, running the gauzy fabric between her fingers before ever so slowly lifting it. When she reveals her string bikini-clad bottom, I almost tell her to pull the cover-up back down.

She's too damn beautiful, and I know for a fact that every man on this beach is imagining untying those strings.

She continues, revealing her rounded belly and then her perky, high breasts. I make a break for deeper water to hide my body's reaction to her. I have no desire for the entire beach to witness the tent in my swim trunks, especially the twins.

Myla Rose neatly folds her cover-up and heads toward where the boys are playing. "Y'all know how to swim?"

I watch her as she stands there with the twins, her pale skin glowing in the sunlight. I don't remember where I heard it, but someone once told me a woman is her most beautiful when she's with child, and looking at Myla Rose, all belly in her two-piece, I have to agree.

"We do!" Preston tells her proudly, adjusting his life jacket.

"Well, come on then, boys!"

I meet them about halfway out, where the water is waist deep on the boys, and immediately, they start splashing up a storm. I freeze, worried Myla is going to be pissed, but before I can even scold the boys, she's splashing them right back.

I swear, this woman might just be perfect.

* * *

"I'm hungry!"Preston whines as we walk back to our towels.

"I'm tired and hungry and my fingers feel like . . . what's the word?" Lucas wriggles his fingers in front of his face.

"Prunes, Lou. Your fingers feel like prunes," Myla tells him as she begins unpacking her giant tote bag.

She pulls out a small cooler, and I shoot her a questioning look—no lie, the girl could give Mary Poppins a run for her money.

"What's all that?"

"Just some sandwiches, fruit, and water—nothing big."

"Damn, girl. You didn't have to go to all this trouble."

"No trouble at all. Now, eat up."

We dig into the chicken salad sandwiches she brought, and much to my surprise, the twins don't complain—not even once. Must be the hunks of bacon she put in it.

I'm draining the last of my water bottle when Myla Rose nudges me with her elbow, gesturing over to Preston and Lucas. They're both curled up on their towels, sleeping soundly.

"Isn't that the sweetest?" Her voice is wistful and dreamy, a straight shot to my heart.

"Sure is, darlin'." I look back over to her, and she's rummaging around in her bag again for something. "Whatcha looking for now in that big-ass thing?"

She riffles around for a few more seconds before triumphantly holding up a bottle of sun block. "Aha!"

"Need some help with that?" I waggle my eyebrows and shoot her a lascivious smile.

"Sure, why not?"

She tosses me the bottle, and I have to chuckle. "SPF 80, Myla?"

"Do you see my skin? I'd rather not be burnt to a crisp, thank you very much," she says as I situate myself behind her.

I squirt a dollop of the cold lotion into my palm before working it into her soft, freckle-kissed skin. I massage it into her shoulders, working her tense muscles long after the lotion has absorbed. I trail my fingers down toward her chest, slipping them under the straps of her swim top, running my fingertips in small, feather-light circles.

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