Page 33 of That Time I Kissed The Groomsman Grump
BEACH DAY AT THE BEACHFRONT
Tug O’War
Chicken fights
Balloon toss
Sandcastle building
Limbo contest
Kasey waits for me to look up from Darby’s phone. “You don’t like chicken fights?” Her lips droop in a pout. As maid of honor, I need to be a good sport. Not to mention these games will be a good distraction from thoughts of Molly dominating Brady’s time.
“Chicken fights are my favorite,” I say, a smile glued to my face.
Nella clears her throat. “But the rest of us don’thaveto fight, do we? Like chickens or anything else?”
“Yes, we do.” Kasey takes another long sip of her drink, her cheeks caving in as she sucks on her curly straw. “Everyone but Amber, obviously.”
Amber pulls a sunhat out of her bag. “Honestly, I’ll probably tap out of everything but building the sandcastles.”
Darby takes her phone back. “Did you see the last item on the agenda?” She aims a pointed look at me.
“Yep.” I force a smile. “Who doesn’t want to do a limbo competition? In the sand. In a bathing suit.”
“So much fun, right?” Kasey beams at us. “I’m having the best time today!”
Okay, Nat. Remember that. This is all you need to hear.
“New rule,” Kasey says, pointing her straw at Amber. “If you’re currently with child, you get a hall pass. Otherwise, you’re in for every competition. Now let’s soak up some sun!”
She slips off her cover-up to reveal an adorable polka dot bikini underneath. I’m glad to see she likes two pieces, in light of the turquoise suit I’m planning to give her for Bora Bora. On the other end of the spectrum, there’s my black one-piece. I thought the color would be slimming, but it mostly accentuates how pale I am. I look like a Cullen vampire with blonde hair and pink lip gloss.
Still, I love the feel of sunshine on my skin, so I grab a can of sunblock and lay my cover-up over my drink to protect it from oncoming mist. Then I squeeze my eyes shut to spray one more layer over my face and body. I’m sitting in a cloud of sticky coconut—SPF 100—when a deep voice rumbles above me.
“Where’s the blue one?”
“Huh?” I try to look up, but my lids are stiff with sunblock. A few loose strands of hair are caught in my lip gloss, so I splutter and spit, swiping the curls away. Then I force my crusty eyes open.
Uh-oh.
I really should have kept them shut.
In front of me are two thickly-muscled legs and a bare torso glistening in the sunlight. Brady’s board shorts are slung low under his abs. So many abs. Rows of them split down the middle, rippling and—
“The other suit,” he says. His shadow looms over my thighs. My super-pale vampire thighs. I feel a flush coming on, but I don’t want Brady to think I’m self-conscious because of him, because I’m not. So I square my shoulders.
“What are you talking about?”
He drags his fingers around the back of his neck. “From the floor of the airport. The little blue bikini?”
“Ahhh. Right. That one.” I scrunch up my nose. “But it’s not blue. It’s turquoise. There’s a difference.”
“Turquoise. Not blue. Difference. Got it. I’ll try not to forget.” His mouth quirks, and a wave of warmth soaks through me. I love making Brady’s lips twitch like that. It’s way more satisfying than getting a person who isalwaysgrinning to smile.
“So, where’s my brother?” I ask.
“Still in the gift shop,” Brady says. “And if you’re looking for Hawk, he stopped at the bar.”
