Page 61 of So Close

“Don’t let her win!” Ty yelled up at Trey.

Obediently, Trey tried again to speed things up, but succeeded only in dumping Ty over again, and this time, Ty’s momentum brought Trey down with him. Jake, full of piss and vinegar from his win, tumbled down on top of his brother and uncle, and the three of them wrestled until they were all covered with sand.

Hannah and Chiara, who had come down to watch the race, flanked Auburn, who had retreated to a safe distance to avoid getting sand in her eyes and mouth.

“They’re reallycute,” Hannah said.

“Are your ovaries okay?” Chiara whispered.

“Shut up,” Auburn hissed back. But they weren’t. They really weren’t. They’d imploded at some point while Trey was laughing and rolling around with his nephews, small boys all over him like puppies. It was maybe fifty percent the nephew-puppies, though, and fifty percent the amount of sand in Trey’s hair and on his clothes.

He got to his feet, the boys still trying to drag him back down. He shook himself off, running a hand through his hair to dislodge the rest of the sand. He was wearing a new pair of board shorts. Did that mean that at some point he’d gone into town by himself and bought more beach clothes?

“Auburn,” Chiara said.

“God,” Auburn said aloud. “This was not supposed to happen.”

“What?” Hannah asked. “What wasn’t supposed to happen?”

“I wasn’t supposed tolikehim.”

“No,” Chiara said thoughtfully. “You weren’t. It’s … inconvenient, isn’t it? It’s always so fucking inconvenient.”

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Hannah handed Jake and Auburn their gift certificates for free O’Hearn’s Ice Cream cones, and Tyler pouted at the sight.

“It’s okay,” Hannah said. “You can enter the three-legged race with your brother.”

“But then he’ll have two ice cream cones!”

“Well. But you’ll have one, too.”

“Mom,” Ty called. Brynn had just stepped out onto the beach. “Help me ’n’ Jake get ready for the three-legged race.”

“Jake and me,” Brynn corrected, as Hannah handed her a length of rope.

He watched her bend to tie her boys’ legs together.

“What do you say?”

It was Auburn, at his shoulder, one eyebrow cocked in now-familiar challenge toward the three-legged starting line. God, she was pretty, her hair pulled back for the moment into some kind of ponytail puff, her cheeks pink, her eyes sparkling. “You know you want to!”

“You’rekidding,” he said. “I haven’t run a three-legged race since I was five.”

“You just ran a wheelbarrow race. This is no different.”

“Except for the part where we’re tied together. We’re not the same height.”

“Come on! You seriously need to redeem yourself after that last display.”

The thought of Auburn joined to any part of his body, more than anything else, propelled him to the start line.

“You’re going to run it in—that?” He took advantage of the moment to survey all the territorynotcovered by her dress—and to imagine how she would look without it.

“That’s my problem, isn’t it?”

With a sigh, he gave in—which pretty much described everything that had happened this last week, not that he really minded—and followed her to the starting line, enjoying how the dress swayed over her hips and revealed delicious thighs and strong calves.

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