Page 65 of Swept for Forever
His grin stretched. “Like what?”
“Like…like you bench-press trees for fun.”
His laugh was deep and rich. “Maybe I do.”
I narrowed my eyes. “That’s cheating. You can’t just take your shirt off mid-argument. It’s dirty tactics.”
Dom braced himself on his hands. “You gonna cry foul, sweetheart?” His voice dipped, low and smooth, his face so close that I could feel his breath against my lips.
I swallowed again.
Lord help me. I was in trouble.
But the color war wasn’t over yet, and Dom finally clarified what he meant by “the old-fashioned way.”
“Race ya in the river,” he challenged.
That lit me up, or maybe made me sprout fins. “Careful what you ask for, Powell.”
He folded his arms, all casual. “If I win, it’s cream. If you win, I’ll paint it green.”
I stared at him, then at the broad expanse of his chest, then back at his face. Classic Dom. Distract and conquer. This wasn’t just any ambush; it was atoplessone.
I made a show of looking around. “You’re serious?”
“Dead serious.”
I scoffed. “Hey, if you want cream, go cream. It’s your house.”
That last part didn’t come out as convincing as I’d meant it to. Because the truth was, sitting on that floor, debating colors, something had felt real. Aprons and making my own home-cooked meals had always been my sworn enemies, but somehow the idea of standing barefoot in that kitchen and brewing coffee while Dom wandered in, still groggy from sleep?—
No.Stop.
I shouldn’t get ahead of myself.
Like, come on! I’d just seen him topless for the first time today. That told me we weren’t in the “domestic bliss” zone yet. Heck, not even the love zone. We’d just been fooling around in the gray area between the kissing zone and the friend zone.
Dom didn’t budge. “Come on. Humor me.”
I eyed him warily. “You just want an excuse to get me in the water.”
His grin widened. “And?”
Between my near-constant craving for the water and the ridiculous chicken dance he was pulling right now, I wanted that race badly.
Besides, this totally counted as training. The river was way tougher than a pool, nature’s version of resistance training. And Dom was worse than hostile spectators. If I could keep my focus with him smirking at me half-naked, I could handle anything.
There.I hadn’t lied to my mother.
I huffed. “Fine. But I don’t have a bikini.”
“Neither do I.”
I rolled my eyes, but I still stripped down to my tank top and shorts before following him outside.
The river was across the park, nestled between thick trees, and the water caught the glow of afternoon light. Lulu trotted alongside us but stopped short when we reached the bank, sniffing at the edge before giving me a look that screamedI am not built for this.
Dom laughed. “Looks like she’s sitting this one out.”
