Page 9 of Where We Call Home

I didn’t need to look back to know Rhodes was watching me go.

I felt it.

But I forced my legs to keep moving.

Because no matter how much I wished things were different…

There was no room in my life for Rhodes Dunn. No matter how devastatingly good he looked in a backward hat.

Two

My friends splashed around in the pool like carefree teenagers, savoring the last rays of summer before the season slipped away.

Boone had Aspen perched on his shoulders, locked in a fierce game of chicken with Mac and Penny. Laughter rang through the air, carefree and unfiltered.

Meanwhile, I stayed exactly where I belonged—planted on a lounge chair under an umbrella, perfectly positioned to observe without getting involved.

Just how I liked it.

At least, that’s what I told myself.

All of these men looked ridiculously good shirtless and dripping wet.

Honestly? EvenIwas wet. Thankfully, no one could tell.

I had never looked at my friends and entertained such raunchy, absolutely filthy thoughts before, but today? My judgment was clearly MIA.

Luckily, my sunglasses hid the direction of my gaze. Sure, they all looked great, but Rhodes?

Rhodes had myfullattention.

He lounged at the edge of the pool, arms braced behind him, and his hands gripped the neck of a beer bottle.

I’d like to feel those hands wrapped aroundmyneck.

The thought struck like a lightning bolt. I shook my head, trying to dislodge it.

This was ridiculous. Rhodes was a friend. With Boone and Aspen dating, we’d be spending a lot more time together, which meant I needed to get my hormones in check—for the sake of the group, if nothing else.

Then, as if the universe wanted to test me, Rhodes took a slow sip of his beer.

The muscles in his neck tensed as he swallowed, his lips parting just enough to make my head spin.

Was it gettinghotter?

I fanned myself with the napkin on my lap, hoping it would do something to counteract the heat creeping over me. Then, for good measure, I dabbed my chest.

Desperate for a distraction, I decided to cool off the only way I could, sticking my feet in the water.

Swinging my legs over the side of the chair, I reached down to untie my boots. Getting them off was infinitely easier than putting them on. Once the boots and socks were discarded, I made my way to the pool’s edge, choosing a quieter spot, out of the splash zone.

Sliding my feet into the water, I sighed in relief as the coolness rushed over me, though my pants weren’t so lucky—soaking at the edges. Not that I could bend far enough to roll them up anyway.

The water swirled around my ankles as I kicked my feet back and forth, tilting my head up to the sun.

This was my happy place.

Being outside, surrounded by nature—it was why I’d chosen wildlife photography. Out there, it was just me, my camera, and the quiet, steady rhythm of the world around me.

---