Page 56 of Temptation

“Oh, you're in for it.” It was late May, and the North Atlantic was still cold. Hers had been sitting in the sun, and the back of the car, so the water in it was warm. When his reservoir was full, he put the cap on and started pumping it up. Then he gave chase, hitting her in the center of her back with the cold water. She shrieked and turned around, hitting him in the stomach. They ran back and forth and refilled the guns three or four times before Tenn got close enough to wrap his arms around her and manoeuvre her into the water.

“Tenn!” She yelped and wrapped her arms around his waist, twisting around to cling tightly to him. “Don't you dare!”

“Don't dare do what? Push you in?” As he said, “Push you in,” he made it seem like he would trip her up, and she shrieked and clung even tighter.

“Yes!”

“Yes, push you in?” he teased, loving how tightly she was holding on to him. He had no intention of actually dunking her in the cold water, though. It would probably take a while for her to warm up, and he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable.

“No! Don't push me in!” She buried her face in his neck. “You win; I surrender.” Tenn chuckled and walked out of the ocean, taking her with him.

She loosened her grip but didn't let him go, and he noticed she was shaking slightly. Tenn was suddenly concerned that she had a deep fear of water and that he was accidentally torturing her. “Are you okay?” He pulled back and saw she was laughing silently. She looked up at him and burst into giggles.

“I should have pushed you in.” He muttered before leaning down and kissing her. She stopped laughing immediately and kissed him back, parting her lips and encouraging him to chase her tongue. A low groan rose in his throat. She tasted incredible, faintly of strawberry lemonade; her hands trailed up his arms and around his neck, pulling him in as she whimpered. Tenn slid his hands up the back of her shirt and was about to pick her up and have her wrap her legs around him when someone cleared their throat behind them. Quinn pulled back, her face turning red as she hastily stepped out of Tenn's arms.

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Explaining Themselves

“B.R.! Hi! Bishop said you guys were in Vermont!” Tenn turned around and watched as Quinn walked over to a slender older man with close-cropped silver-grey hair. He held open his arms with a smile and hugged her. She sounded a little nervous, but he just looked happy to see her.

“We got back yesterday.” He explained, looking at Tenn curiously over Quinn's shoulder. “Want to introduce me to your... friend? Tenn picked up a faint hint of disapproval in his voice and suddenly wanted the sand beneath his feet to swallow him, but Quinn smiled at him encouragingly.

“This is Tenn Aston; he's an -”

“Art Historian at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston. I have your book.” The man held out his hand, and Tenn shook it.

“It's great to meet you.” Tenn felt himself flush under the man's intense gaze. “I'm a huge fan.”

“Well, why don't you two come to the house for some iced tea? You can take a look around, sign my book, and explain yourselves.” He turned and walked toward the trail while Quinn began to pack up their things.

“Don't look so guilty, Tenn. He's hated Joel with a passion since he put me in the hospital; he's not even allowed on the grounds.” She murmured as she shook out the blanket. “He'll be fine when we explain everything.”

“I hope so; I don't want one of my favourite painters to hate me.” Tenn packed up their garbage in the bag she handed him, feeling his stomach clench with nerves. This was not how he wanted to meet her informally adopted family at all.

“Trust me.” She picked up the tub and umbrella, and he carried the cooler back to her car. They put it all aboard, and Quinn drove them to the house. Pulling another card from the center console, she swiped it at the gate and drove through when it opened.

“They really consider you family, don't they?” Tenn shifted nervously, unable to stay quiet. He hadn't been kidding; B.R. Deering was one of his favourite artists, so several factors were playing into his nervousness now, not just the fact that he had been caught kissing a married woman.

“They thought Bishop and I would end up married.” She explained. “They grew to love Rilla, but there was disappointment throughout the first six months of their relationship.”

“I thought you guys were just friends with benefits?” Tenn’s confusion distracted him from his embarrassment for a moment.

“We were. Quill was very adamant that I do not date his best friend.” Quinn gave him another quick, reassuring smile. “He wasn’t exactly okay with the friends-with-benefits thing but grudgingly agreed not to make remarks as long as he didn’t see anything.

“Really?” Tenn was surprised. Quill was okay with him dating Quinn and even encouraged it, despite the fact that they were both married to other people.

“He said we wouldn’t last, the breakup would be messy, and he didn't want to have to choose, not to mention the rift it would cause between Bishop, B.R., and Linda. We had several very long conversations that were mostly him warning me not to fall for him. And he was right. Bishop and Rilla are polyamorous and frequently have other people they date outside of the marriage, and sometimes they bring in a third. They have rules, which work for them, but, like I told you before, it didn't work for me. B.R. and Linda are aware of how Rilla and Bishop's relationship works; they don't exactly approve of it but don't say anything.” She parked in front of the house and got out, leading him to the front door and then through the house to the kitchen. There were beautiful pieces of art and sculptures everywhere and Tenn wished he had about thirty more eyes; he desperately wanted to stop and walk through more slowly.

“Quinn!” A woman with long white hair in a braid hugged her as she entered the kitchen. “We thought it was you when we heard screaming on the beach.” She smiled at Tenn. “Water balloons again?”

“Water guns,” Tenn answered, smiling back at her. This woman exuded warmth and instantly made you feel at home and Tenn really hoped they would be as understanding as Quinn was insisting they would be.

“Ah, much more environmentally sound. I'm sure your brother would approve.” She reached out and affectionately brushed a few tendrils of Quinn’s hair back off her face.

“I always cleaned up all the balloon pieces.” Quinn protested, smiling sheepishly. Then she reached for Tenn’s hand and pulled him up next to her. “Linda, this is Tenn Aston, Tenn, Linda Deering, B.R.'s wife and Bishop’s mom.”

“Have a seat.” Linda shook Tenn’s hand with a warm smile and gestured to the kitchen table as she went to the fridge, pulling out a large jug of iced tea and a charcuterie board. She set them on the table and passed out glasses as B.R. entered the kitchen, holding Tenn's book and a Sharpie.

“So. Where's Joel?” He looked at Quinn sharply as he laid the book and marker in front of Tenn. He opened the cover and started signing his name to the cover page as Quinn glanced at the clock.

---