Page 47 of A Shore Fling
“I barely know him.”
“But you want to know him,” Ginger adds.
I open my mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. I settle for shrugging and digging my toes into the warm sand. Before they can press me further, a shadow falls across us. I glance up and spot a small group of guys from the next row of sunbathers. One of them is tall and tan, with sun-bleached hair and the kind of easy smile that tells me he’s used to getting his way.
“Good afternoon, ladies,” he says, flashing us a toothy grin. “Do you mind if we join you?”
I catch the glances Willow and Ginger exchange. These guys seem harmless enough, but we don’t want company.
“Actually, we’re having a girls’ day,” Willow says politely.
“You sure? We brought beer,” another guy pipes in, hoisting a small cooler.
Willow opens her mouth to answer when a larger shadow passes over us as Travis and his brothers appear, all broad shoulders and dark scowls.
I don’t know if they’ve done this before, but they fall into position like it’s not the first time. Travis flanks my side while the others fan out behind him, forming a very unsubtle wall of brotherly muscle.
The other guys take one look at them and start backing away. One of them is quick to mutter, “We were just leaving.”
“Good idea,” Travis says, not even trying to sound friendly.
As they scurry off, Willow lets out a low whistle. “Well, damn. That was efficient.”
Ginger nudges me and whispers, “Your knight in shining board shorts.”
Glancing up at Travis, I raise an eyebrow. “Was that necessary?”
He shrugs, folding his arms over his chest. “I didn’t like the look of them.”
“They were just talking.”
“They were circling like vultures,” he says flatly.
I roll my eyes, but I’m fighting a smile. “They couldn’t have been all bad. They offered to share their beer with us.”
He sets up his chair beside mine and then opens his cooler. “I have beer and great snacks. Chips, salsa, grapes, peanut butter pretzels, and Funyuns.”
“Funyuns!” I squeal. “I haven’t had these since my college days. I didn’t realize they still made them.” I snatch the bag from the cooler, hugging it to my chest. I aim my most pleading look at him. “Can I open them?”
“You can eat every single one if you’d like.”
I tear into the bag, pop an onion ring into my mouth, and groan. “Mmm. Why are these so damn good?”
“It’s the preservatives and seed oils,” Drew chimes in.
“I’m not even mad about it. These might be the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”
“It’s all empty calories,” Drew says.
“What do you mean?”
“There’s no real nutritional value from eating them.”
“My youngest brother is the family health and fitness nut,” Travis explains.
“You all look like you live at the gym,” I say.
“Yeah, but my proportions are more balanced,” Drew brags.
