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That last one wasn’t a dream.
If she ever had happy dreams, they were about being left overnight in a candy or a toy shop. Or becoming a world-famous yodeler.
You know . . . regular stuff.
Not this.
Not where two gorgeous men were doting on her, acting like they cared.
Something welled in her throat. It felt like fear. Sadness.
Because this wasn’t her life. People didn’t want to look after her like this. They expected her to be strong. To toughen up. To act her age.
What was so good about being twenty-five? She’d rather be three. Sassy and carefree. Where no one expected anything of her and she could eat chicken nuggets and chips for every meal.
Now, that was a good dream.
“Open up,” Jack said.
Why was he being so bossy? Wasn’t that Ian’s gig?
“Baby girl,” Jack said. “Open your mouth for me. Now.”
Yikes. That was said in such a dark, delicious tone that it sent a shiver up her spine, and she automatically opened her mouth.
Both men shared a look that she couldn’t decipher as she drank several mouthfuls of water. As she started drinking, she realized how thirsty she was.
Jack drew the bottle away and she reached for it. He lightly pushed her hands away. “You need to take it slow.”
“But I’m thirsty.”
“Because you were dehydrated,” Ian said as he finished with the sunscreen. “When was the last time you drank something? Ate?”
Hmm.
Interesting question.
Jack swore. “If she has to think about it this much it was too long ago.”
Ian nodded grimly. “Agreed. I’ll get her an electrolyte drink.”
“I’m fine with water.” Electrolyte drinks tasted gross.
But Ian didn’t answer, he just walked off.
“Jack? Jackie? Jackster?”
Jack stared down at her. “Uh, yep?”
“Are you still mad at me?” she whispered. “Please don’t be mad at me.” She sniffled and gave him big puppy eyes.
His own eyes widened, then narrowed. “Are you trying to play me?”
“Who, me?”
Reaching out, he grasped hold of her chin. “Don’t ever lie to me, baby girl. Understand?”
“I . . . I wasn’t lying. I just . . . don’t want you to be mad at me.”
