Page 7 of It Started at the Lake

True, but these two are going to wish they had one when they get out of the water. It’s May. The water is frigid and the air outside isn’t above seventy now that the sun is setting. “I’m heading to the hot tub. You can use my towel if you bring me another one.”

“There’s a hot tub?” Millie asks excitedly.

I nod. “There is.”

“Well then, let’s go.” Millie takes off toward the sandy beach twenty feet away.

No one has to tell me twice. I follow behind, happy my time in the ice water is over.

“Last one in buys drinks tonight!” Emerson shouts behind me.

Someone grabs my ankle, yanking me under the water. Spluttering, I elbow whoever is trying to swim past me. My long arms, once again, come in handy. Scooping my hands through the water, I kick my legs, propelling myself forward until the water is too shallow to swim in. I pop up, running at full speed, Baywatch style, toward the hot tub, pushing and shoving my family members until I’m first.

My lungs fight for breath, my quads burn, but I am not giving up until I win. The hot tub is in sight. Emerson, Cam, and Henry are fighting behind me, but I don’t turn around.

I put a hand on the edge, launching myself into the sizzling water. Sharp stabbing, like a million needles are pricking my skin, erupts over every nerve ending in my body.

The sensation isn’t great, but also not entirely unpleasant either. Kind of like a deep-tissue massage. I’m alive. And for the first time in three years, a lightness settles within me, one that grows when, one by one, my family and Millie plop into the water with me, all of us grinning like we escaped with our lives.

It’s good to be at the lake house for the summer.

CHAPTER 5

Camille

If someone were to ask me what hell is like, it’s this moment right here. Me, sitting in a hot tub with four sexy, single men, all of them smiling at me like I bought them lower-bowl, fifty-yard-line Super Bowl tickets. And me on a self-imposed dating ban, not allowed to do anything except think of these exquisite humans as my brothers. Inside, I’m shaking my fist at the injustice of it all.

But I will not cave.

Instead, I’ll keep being an awestruck weirdo, staring at each man, appreciating their physique. Every single one has the body of a professional athlete, a straight nose, full lips, and a jawline so cut, pretty sure a blade is jealous of it.

The only difference between them is eye and hair color. Camden is blond with hazel eyes like Evie, but Bennett, Emerson, and Henry all share the same variation of curly, sun-kissed, light-brown hair and blue eyes.

Did their mom take some pill or serum before getting pregnant that took the best physical features possible and mashed them together, then copied and pasted with each son? I shift my gaze from one man to another.

There are subtle differences now that I’ve looked long enough.

Bennett has a freckle just below his right eye. More scruff on his jaw. And definitely more lines around his eyes. It’s easily discernible that he is the oldest. Emerson has dimples that only make him more appealing. And Henry has a scar at the end of his left eyebrow. It’s small. Unnoticeable, really, until you find yourself gawking at his glorious features long enough.

Henry shoots me a wink and I whip my head to my lap. Way to be subtle, Mils. My body overheats from attraction, embarrassment at being caught, and the hot water I’m soaking in.

I’m normally not a self-conscious person, but right now the words screaming through my head are: you don’t belong here.

And now that I’m staring at myself, my humiliation triples. My white shirt is totally see-through. My nude bra is completely visible, and it’s not a cute one with polka dots or an animal print. This thing is barely holding on by a string. How long have I given these guys a free show of my frumpy, stretched-out brassiere?

I clasp my hands together, holding them right under my chin so my arms are somewhat hiding my chest. I’m not too thrilled with Evie about jumping in the lake. She should have told me to wear a different colored shirt at least.

The water in the tub is clear. Clear enough that everyone is getting an eye full. Not that I caught any of them looking, because as the hypocrite I am, I was totally checking them out and didn’t pay attention to what they were doing (until Henry winked at me). But the point is, I don’t want them looking at me in my current condition.

Bennett meets my eyes, gives me a sympathetic smile, then pushes the button for the jets to blow. Bubbles fill the space, making the water opaque. I smile gratefully at him and drop my arms to my sides, appreciating his thoughtfulness. “Thank you,” I mouth.

He bobs his head in acknowledgement.

“Evie, you were the last one in,” Henry says, stretching an arm across the back of the hot tub ledge. “Drinks are on you tonight.”

“It’s not fair,” she whines. “My legs are way shorter than yours. I’m always last.”

“Maybe you should change up who has to buy,” I offer. “Maybe it should be the first one.”

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