Page 22 of The First Best Man

“Last one in buys the other a beer tonight!” I shout, my legs already pumping as I dash toward the waves.

Tucker bellows as my laughter trails over my shoulder, and I push harder when I hear his footsteps pounding a little too closely behind me. It’s no use, though. He passes me before we even reach the halfway mark, and it’s all I can do to keep up. He splashes into the Pacific with a shout of victory, then turns around to pump a fist in the air.

“You cheated,” I gripe as I slow to a stop next to him.

“Me? You’re the one who issued the challengeafteryou started running.”

“Lies,” I say with a flair of drama as I wade out into waist-deep water.

The chilly water sends chill bumps racing across myskin, but I repeat the words “it’s refreshing” over and over in my mind to trick myself into thinking it’s not really that cold. Taking a deep breath, I submerge myself, completely, then doggy-paddle out into deeper water.

I shriek as long fingers close around one of my ankles. Jerking my foot free, I spin around to find Tucker standing chest-deep right behind me, a wide grin on his face. Narrowing my eyes, I take another deep breath before diving downward. It only takes me a moment to find his feet, and I quickly hook both hands behind his ankles and jerk them forward at the same time.

The water churns as Tucker joins me below the surf, and his fingers swipe against the skin of my back as I quickly turn and swim out of his reach. I must’ve gotten turned around, though, because when I come up for air, I’m closer to the shore…and Tucker has somehow managed to stay right with me. Letting out a mighty growl, he wraps his arms around me and does something I’ve never had done to me in my entire adult life.

He picks me up.

And not only does he pick me up, he lifts me out of the water completely. The next thing I know, I’m screeching as I’m flung through the air. I hit the water with a splash, sinking to the bottom before getting my feet underneath me and using my legs to drive myself back up to the surface.

I blink the water out of my eyes and spin in a circle as I search for Tucker. I find him several feet away, his head thrown back as he laughs.

Holy shit.

Am I dreaming, or did he pick me up and toss me through the air? He doesn’t even look winded.

I may not be a whale like that douche Alex called me at the Grill, but I’m no tiny ballerina, either. At five-foot-eight and well over two-hundred pounds, I shouldn’t be that easy to throw around. I’m positively shocked.

Tucker stops laughing, and his face grows serious as he approaches me slowly. “Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

I shake my head as I slowly back up, moving deeper into the water. He follows me, his expression filled with concern. I stop when I hit chest-deep water, but Tucker keeps coming, determined to make sure I’m really okay.

I bend my knees slightly in preparation, keeping my expression blank to play off his concern. As soon as he’s close enough, I push myself upward with a battle cry. Planting my hands on his shoulders, I push down, attempting to dunk him, but he’s an unmovable statue. His arms circle around me, pulling me so close my body slides against his as gravity does its thing.

And he doesn’t release me when my feet hit the ocean floor. He holds me, searching my gaze before his stare drops to my mouth. Not daring to breathe, I wait to see what he’ll do. He has that same expression he wore at the Grill the other night, before I ran to the bathroom and everything went to hell.

Like he wants to see what my lips taste like.

Then he seems to come back to his senses, releasing me before taking a step back and saying, “We should, uh, get back. That sandcastle isn’t going to build itself.”

“Right,” I say, moving past him to wade back to shore.

We work silently, at first, but gradually, the awkwardness fades, and soon we’re laughing at our own lame attempts to make the pile of sand look like a structure of some kind. Blaine and Sam’s castle really starts to take form, their attention to detail so fine, I know there’s no chance in hell we’re going to win this thing. A glance at Penny and Logan proves they’re not doing much better than we are, and when I point it out to Tucker, he chuckles.

An hour later, we break for lunch. A few of my employees from the Grill deliver cheeseburgers, fries, onion rings, and drinks, setting up a couple of large picnic blankets and oversized umbrellas on the grassy lawn behind the mayor’s house so we don’t have to deal with sand in our food.

Grabbing Penny’s hand, I drag her toward the outdoor bathroom we were given permission to use, calling out to the others that we’re going to wash up. As soon as we’re closeted in the space, I turn to Penny with wide eyes.

“What?” she asks. “What is it?”

Keeping my voice at a whisper in case anyone is standing outside, waiting their turn, I say, “He picked me up, Penny.”

“What?” she repeats, her expression filling with confusion.

I shake my head. “Tucker. He picked me up while we were playing in the water. And not only that. Hetossedme through the air.”

Her confusion clears, and she takes my hand,immediately understanding the problem. “Sure. He’s strong and manly and everything a woman could possibly desire, physically. But remember, he’s the ‘love them and leave them’ type, and that’s not what you want orneed.”

“Isn’t it?” I ask, only half-kidding. At Penny’s stern glare, I let out a long sigh. “Fine. You’re right. Best man,bad. Hands off.”

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