Grady dipped his feet into the water and wondered how in the hell he was going to maintain his emotional distance from Arabella York. Tomorrow morning, she'd be back. He'd have to keep his eyes trained on her while she went through the dance steps. Watch that cute ponytail swing back and forth. Listen to that husky voice of hers. Maybe he should ask her to put on a gorilla suit or something, he thought with dark humor.
Grady took another gulp of beer and swirled his feet around in the water, trying not to think about her in the beach house, but his thoughts went back to that moment when he and Arabella had been wrapped up together, naked in his bed after a long lovemaking session. With her head on his chest, she'd mentioned that she'd always longed for a cottage overlooking the ocean. . . .
///
"Like in California?" Grady had asked, eager to know everything she'd ever wanted, because he was determined to give it to her.
"Mmmm, no, I don't think so. I have a soft spot for Florida."
"Really?"
"Yeah, you were so lucky to grow up there and never have to face a Midwest winter. Granny York had a friend who had this amazing little white beach house in Florida overlooking the Atlantic Ocean, and Granny would take me there whenever we got the chance. It was full of serene blues and whimsical nautical stuff . . . shells and starfish and oh, the turtles!"
"You like turtles?"
"They're fascinating. The rule was we had to pull the curtains at night so the baby sea turtles wouldn't see the house lights and get confused and lost, thinking they were following the moon out to sea. The cottage was my . . . happy place, you know?"
"Go on," he'd said, and even now he remembered how her gentle hands, her exploring fingers, would absently caress his skin when she would open up to him about her life.
"No fighting, and the sound of the waves would put me to sleep at night. I loved everything about the beach there-the shells, the sea oats, the turtles, the scent of the sea, but most of all . . . the peace. I always hated to go back home."
Grady remembered kissing the top of her head and pulling her closer, feeling so bad that she'd had kind of a shitty childhood. No siblings, and parents who were always at odds with each other. She'd put one leg between his and said, "I feel so safe with you, Grady. I mean, I know my parents just weren't meant for each other and should never have gotten married. If I hadn't come along, they would have split up," she'd said with a little hitch in her voice.
"So, you're like, blaming yourself for being born? I can tell you that it would have really sucked for me to never have met you."
She'd raised her head up and looked at him with those soulful eyes of hers. "We're meant for each other, right?"
"Absolutely," he'd said, and pulled her head down for a long, hot kiss. "I'll never yell at you, and if anybody ever does, I'll kick their ass."
"Mmmm, that's so sexy," she'd said, and then used the tip of her tongue to make him hard when he'd thought he was spent. She'd climbed on top of him and ridden him slow and easy, squeezing another intense orgasm from him. . . .
"Shit," Grady said, and looked down at the tent in his board shorts. He put his beer can down with a hard clank and slipped into the cool water of the pool. He swam laps until his arms and legs felt like rubber, wanting to be so exhausted that he couldn't even think.
Dragging himself out of the pool, he flopped onto a lawn chair and fell asleep. Of course, Arabella slipped into his dreams, soft and sexy, making him want to-
"Grady?"
"Mmmm." Not wanting the dream to end, he kept his eyes shut and ignored the intruder.
"Grady?" This time he felt a nudge on his shoulder, so he regretfully opened his eyes. Oliver, Jimmy, and Jesse stood there looking down at him.
With a curse, Grady sat up so fast that he nearly fell out of the lounge chair. He pointed at Oliver. "You've got some fucking nerve."
"Yeah." Oliver plopped down on the chair next to him. "And it's a damned good thing I do."
Grady glared at Jimmy and Jesse. "Did you asshats know about this?"
"Grady," Jimmy said calmly, "there really wasn't any other choice."
"Bullshit," Grady said, even though he knew Jimmy was right. He was more pissed that they'd done this behind his back than anything. "That's not the way we do things."
"You refused to listen to reason," Oliver argued.
"I brought pizza," Jesse announced loudly, and put the big box he'd been holding on the umbrella table. "And beer." He tossed one to Grady. "I think you could use one."