Page 33 of Ever With Me

“Why the hell are you naked?”

“Because I don’t have a bathing suit and thought I was alone. Why the hell are you so early?”

A flush heated Maddie’s cheeks. “I’m sorry. You didn’t answer the door and—” She turned away. “I’m sorry.”

She could feel his stare—man, was he angry.

“Will you toss me my towel? It’s on the bench beside you.”

Maddie grabbed the gray-striped towel beside her, then flung it toward him.

It landed in the hot tub with a splash.

“Nice shot,” Brooks said wryly, a hint of red on his throat. Probably from the hot water. He fished the soaking towel out, and it landed against the deck with a slap.

“I can go get you another towel,” she offered, looking down.

“No, I’ll get it myself. And get dressed.” He turned and left her there, not bothering to cover his naked ass.

Man, he has a nice ass.For a guy.

She could practically imagine the hardness of that muscular behind, how it would feel to rake her fingers against his hips, and?—

What the hell am I doing?

She moistened her lips, a fresh wave of embarrassment creeping through her. Had she really just been fantasizing about him?

If she was honest, though, it wasn’t the first time the man had been involved in her fantasies. Maybe she hadn’t imaginedhim, but she’d lain in bed before, listening to that silky voice, lowering her hand between her legs, and . . .

Her core turned to liquid at the distant memory.

Okay, enough. Get ahold of yourself, you idiot.

This was Brooks the Asshole. Not some fantasy man who’d play the guitar for her.

She curled her arms around her waist.

Josh had once written a song for her.“This is for you, beautiful. And someday, I’m going to record it and have it played for our first dance as husband and wife.”

A stab went through her heart.

She sat on the bench, turning away from the house and looking out over the lake. Swiping a tear from the corner of her eye, she sighed. Did Josh still play that song? Would he sing it for Gina, too?

Here at the lake, she’d always found a sense of solace. That was the nice thing about Brandywood. If you wanted company, you could always find someone to share a conversation in town. If you wanted to be alone with your thoughts, there were a ton of beautiful, serene spots to let your soul be at ease.

A heron dove over the sparkling water and flapped its long wings, gliding smoothly. The first hints of fall were showing on the surrounding trees. Soon, everything would be golden and red and breathtaking.

Brooks cleared his throat from behind her, and she stood. He was on the deck again, this time fully dressed in a pair of jeans and a gray T-shirt. Flip-flops completed the outfit. His hair was dark and wet, revealing a hint of curl at the top. He looked like a different person without the beard but also . . . not.

He looked like Brooks Kent.

The one who had graced the poster in her bedroom.

A dry lump formed in her throat.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“We’ll call it even. I caught you in the shower yesterday, and now it’s my turn to be caught unaware. Care to come inside?” Brooks gestured toward the house.

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