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His eyes blaze with determination, making my pulse spike. I push forward, bounding from plank to block as they dip and sway. My toes cling to the wet edges. In my periphery, I see Emrys leaping instinctively from spot to spot, never losing momentum.
With a final desperate hop, I clear the cement pit, stumbling onto blessedly semi-solid sand. But my lead over Emrys is shrinking rapidly. I scan the beach ahead, spotting rows of half-buried tires laying ahead that we have to hop through like an old-school obstacle course.
Sucking in a breath, I plunge forward. My calves burn as I high-step awkwardly through the massive tires. The sides grab at my ankles and feet like cement-filled shackles, trying to slow my momentum. Still, I refuse to falter.
Behind me, I hear a grunt and dull thud followed by Wilder's voice shouting "Aw, dagnabbit!" Guess he didn't have much luck with the floating platforms. At least it'll slow him down.
After what feels like an eternity of awkward tire-hopping, I finally clear the obstacle and risk a glance back at Emrys. He's abseiling the buried tires with easy lopes, his long strides eating up the distance between us. I whirl back around, ready to push myself harder, when suddenly my foot catches on a rock hidden beneath the sand.
I go down hard with a startled, "Oomph!", biting a mouthful of sand. Before I can scramble up, a broad hand clasps my upper arm and Emrys effortlessly tugs me to my feet.
His lips quirk upward as he steadies me, his hands lingering and swallowing the small of my waist. "What's the matter, Kitten? Finally meeting your match?"
I narrow my eyes, defiance surging hotly through me. Through sheer stubbornness, I ignore the pleasant tingles radiating from where his fingers still grasp me.
"Not a chance. I'm just getting warmed up," I retort, jerking out of his hold. Emrys' golden eyes gleam approvingly as he chuckles deeply.
Without another glance back, I sprint onward towards the next insane obstacle, more fired up than ever to claim victory over these infuriatingly tempting men.
My lungs burn as I race towards the next obstacle–a rickety rope bridge suspended over a pool of…nope! Fuck no!
I stagger backwards at the sight of hundreds of mice darting to and fro in a massive tin pit. My heart starts to pound erratically, my mouth going dry as fear slices like acid and razor wire up my spine. I’m going to kill Annabelle. She knows the only fucking animal in the world that I’m afraid of is mice–don’t ask me why. They’re just creepy.
Shouts sound from behind and I glimpse Wyatt trailing Emrys by just a few strides, his refined composure long gone, as surely as his straight jacket is.
I plunge forward without further hesitation, my feet slapping the wooden planks even as my entire frame shakes in fear. The bridge sways wildly with each step, ropes creaking. Glancing down at the mice infested pit makes my head spin so I focus straight ahead.
About halfway across, the entire bridge jerks violently. I fling my arms out for balance with a yelp. Sneaking a peek back, I see Emrys pounding the planks right behind me, his weight making the unstable bridge dip and sway sickeningly.
Gnashing my teeth, I push forward but the creaking ropes make my strides more tentative. I'm forced to grip the sides white-knuckled as the bridge pitches like a boat at sea.
Suddenly, Wyatt emerges onto the pitching bridge, face set in grim determination. Emrys is forced to slow his pursuit as Wyatt's added weight compounds the chaos. The three of us cling precariously to the ropes, the bridge seesawing wildly like a sadistic amusement park ride.
Through pure adrenaline and stubbornness, I finally stagger my way off the death-trap bridge and onto the blessedly immobile sand, but I only make it a few feet before Wyatt overtakes me in a blur.
"Pardon me, baby," he tosses back over his shoulder, eyes blazing with challenge. I gape dumbly for a heartbeat before Emrys blows past me as well, his big body brushing tantalizingly against mine.
Indignation overrides my shock and I spring forward, chasing after them furiously. Ahead lies the final obstacle–a mammoth water slide ending in the ocean surf. Wyatt and Emrys scramble up the ladder neck and neck.
I dash up right behind them, leaving no inch uncontested. We cram onto the narrow start of the slide together, bodies pressed tight, wet and breathing hard. For a suspended moment we're frozen there, gazes locked as anticipation hangs thickly in the salty air.
Then Wyatt's eyes gleam recklessly and he tackles me, plunging us into the slick tube. We hit the slide in a tangled heap, cries of surprise mixing with exhilaration as we careen down wildly, completely out of control as we leave Emrys to leap after us.
It's a wet, frenzied plummet full of flailing limbs and chaotic shouts. We burst from the slide in a soaring arc, hitting the ocean with an impressive splash, the cool water momentarily shocking the air from my lungs.
We break the surface, sputtering, searching the beach for a sign of the victor. My father stands on his platform, megaphone raised, laughter booming across the sand through the speakers.
"Well, folks, looks like for the first time in Sharpe history we have ourselves a tie! Give it up for Kat and Wyatt!"
A tie? I push wet strands of hair from my face as I stare at Wyatt in disbelief. His stormy eyes hold the same bewilderment as hoots and shouts sound from my family gathering along the shoreline.
Before I can fully process this unexpected outcome, Emrys erupts from the slide in a graceful arc, cutting through the gentle waves as he resurfaces. I'm struck momentarily breathless by the sight of him rising from the azure waters like Poseidon himself, wet skin and tattoos gleaming enticingly.
Emrys scans the beach, taking in the reaction before his burning gaze locks with mine. I flush under the intensity of his stare. Slowly, sensually, he licks a stray droplet from his lower lip, the promise of something sinful blazing in his golden eyes.
Desire spears through me, my body reacting viscerally to the heated look. My attention is snatched away as a hollering Wilder careens into the ocean with his straight jacket still tying his arms together. He lands in what must be a painful flop into the water before surfacing with a loud groan of anger.
“Dagnabbit!”
