Page 63 of Nave
“Spike convinced the others to hit one of the beach bars. I imagine it’s going to be a wild party here later. But for now, I think it’s just Callow and Brooks here.”
“Where?” I asked as we went into Nave’s room so he could put down mine and Edith’s things.
“I imagine Brooks is in the glass room.”
“The glass… oh, the thing on the roof?”
“Yeah. I can show it to you sometime if you want. And I think I heard Callow knocking around in the garage. Brooks hasbeen bitching that it needs organization for a while, but everyone keeps conveniently ‘forgetting’ he said it.”
“You included?”
“Organization isn’t my strong suit. Still overheated?” he asked as I stood in front of the vent, fanning my damp shirt.
“I feel like I’ve been roasted,” I admitted.
“You could take a dip in the pool. That should do the trick.”
I hadn’t been in a pool in almost a decade. The appeal was almost too good. “You too?” I asked. Not because I wanted to see him shirtless. Nope. Not me.
“Sure. Will Edith be alright inside? The front gate isn’t closed much these days, so I don’t want to take her out.”
I glanced over, seeing her already curling up near the air vent.
“I think she’s down for the count. It was a long night.”
“I wish you’d have had Kit call me,” he said as he walked through the common room, pausing only to grab two mismatched towels off a towering pile of them.
“I was maybe being a little stubborn,” I admitted as we moved back outside, the heat slapping me in my already overheated face.
“Maybe?” he asked, shooting me a smirk as he dropped the towels on a chaise.
“I’m not good at asking for help,” I admitted as we both kicked off our shoes.
“I get that. I do. But things are different here. With the girls. With me. You don’t have to feel weird about it.”
“Yeah, I…”
I lost the rest of my sentence as he lost his shirt.
My mouth went instantly dry. And another part of me, well, that was an opposite problem.
I mean, I knew the man was fit. He picked up heavy things like it was nothing. I’d felt those strong arms around me. I’d admired the breadth of his chest and his back.
I guess I hadn’t let myself wonder too much about the rest of him. His chest and stomach, were a treat. Deep grooves etched between his abdominal muscles. And then there was that delicious V that disappeared into his waistband.
“What’s this?” I asked, reaching out despite just telling myself a second before to keep my hands to myself.
But there was a strange, round, puckered, skin-colored scar on his stomach.
“That is what happens when you get shot in the stomach,” he admitted.
“Shot?”
My fingers touched the spot, finding it somewhat raised, but impossibly smooth.
Beneath my touch, Nave’s muscles twitched.
“I’ve led an interesting life,” he said, making my gaze lift to his. I found him already watching me—and much, much closer than I’d realized.
