“Might be fun to try it—the swim,” Sawyer explained. “We mate for life in my family, so maybe I’d run into her.”
“Huh. Same with mine. They mate for life. Which is why,” Riley said definitely, “I wouldn’t risk the swim. I find my mate, that’s it. No more playing around.”
She rose, stretched. “What about you, Sash? The field or the goalposts?”
“What?”
“Playing the field or the touchdown with love?” Sawyer interpreted.
“I . . .” She saw Bran, in black trunks and white unbuttoned shirt, crossing the lawn. Hearts did skip beats, she thought. It wasn’t just a cliché. “I don’t really think about it.”
“Everybody thinks about it,” Riley claimed. “I’m going back in.” She dove off the side, surfaced sleek as a seal, then rolled to float. “Hey, Irish, water’s good. Take advantage. We’ll be hunting and scouting and digging before much longer.”
“You’re right about that.”
“And not much time for a beer by the pool.” Sawyer set his down. “I’m on pool maintenance, unless you want it.”
“It’s all yours.” As Sawyer jumped in with Riley, Bran shrugged out of his shirt. “Can’t swim?”
“Of course I can swim.”
“Good.”
He plucked her right up.
Her utterly shocked “Don’t!” had Apollo bellying out to dance and bark.
“Do!” Riley shouted as Sasha tried to wiggle free. “Dare you.”
“Oh, well then, she dared me.”
“This isn’t funny. Just—”
Whatever she’d started to say ended on a scream as he got a running start and jumped in with her.
She surfaced, sputtered.
“It’s pretty funny,” Sawyer said.
With no choice, Sasha tread water. “It’s cold!”
“You’re just not used to it yet.” To help her along with that, Bran went under, and pulled her with him.
“Better?” he asked when she came up again.
“What are you, twelve?”
“The man who loses the boy is a sad and serious man.”
“Irish philosophy?” Sasha responded to it by shoving the heel of her hand through the water, and sending it into his face.
Then she just sank down because it was pretty nice after all.
Her pasta dish turned out well, if she did say so herself. She might not want to be responsible for planning and cooking meals routinely, but there was some satisfaction in seeing the enormous amount she’d made vanish down to a small container of leftovers.
They didn’t talk of the stars until Riley broke out a bottle of limoncello.
“I did lunch, Sasha did dinner—and kudos on that—so I’d say you boys are on cleanup.”
“Seems fair, and we’ll deal with that,” Bran said. “But I’d say it’s time we knuckled down a bit and got serious about why we’re all here.”
“But we’re not all here,” Sasha pointed out. “Until we are, I don’t think we stand much of a chance of finding anything.”
“Doesn’t mean we can’t scout the area,” Riley pointed out. “I’ve got some maps, and some ideas on that.”
“Standing still’s doing nothing,” Bran pointed out. “If we hadn’t been moving forward, we might not have met Sawyer. And now we’re four.”
“Like I said, this is the first time I’ve looked with a team, and the first time I’ve really felt close.” Sawyer studied the liquid in his shot glass, then knocked it back. “Nice kick. A couple of good meals, a few hours by the pool, and a kick-ass roof over my head, that’s all pretty great. But you don’t find without looking.”
“You got it.” Riley tossed back her shot as well, poured herself and Sawyer a second. “So I say we break out the maps first thing in the morning, make a plan, and pull on our hiking boots.” She toasted with her drink. “Time for some spelunking.”
Noting Sasha’s expression, Bran gave her hand a pat. “Are you claustrophobic then?”
“Not so far, but then I’ve never spent any time in caves. But I know caves make me think of bats.”
“Bats are enormously cool,” Riley told her. “And contrary to popular belief, aren’t blind. And don’t go for your hair.”
“She uses the form, twisting it to her needs. And the dark is hers. The dank and shadowy places, and what lives there she rules. Banished from the light, she craves it, and covets the flame. The light to extinguish, and the flame to burn until there’s nothing but the dark, and ashes.”