Page 59 of Double Puck

By the time the food is demolished and the margaritas are mostly gone, I've stopped feeling like an intruder, and started… just being here. Joining in the conversations, laughing at their banter, learning more about their lives growing up together.

It's nice, and Zoey is actually really easy to like. Shockingly easy.

She talks about her bakery with the same passion Beck brings to every conversation, and when she catches me listening, she tops up my glass and asks if I want the recipe for her famous cinnamon rolls.

I say yes before I even think about it.

Eventually, when Diego starts clearing the table while refusing any form of help, the brothers drift toward the basketball hoop on the far side of the deck, trash talk arriving approximately four seconds before they do. Biscuit gallops after them, ears at full attention, one flopping magnificently.

Morgan has changed into her bright pink swimmers, and is currently surveying the three women left lounging by the pool.

"Alright. Who's swimming with me?" she asks.

Josie wobbles to her feet, immediately pulling her sundress over her head, heer cheeks flushed from one too many drinks. "Oh! I'm in!"

Zoey does the same, and Morgan spins to turn her attention to me.

"Oh. I don't have a swimsuit, sweetie," I say. "Another time?"

Morgan looks me up and down. "I can get you one of Mom's. Your boobs look about the same size."

I look down at my chest. "Um. I'm completely fine here—"

"Darcy." Morgan plants her small hands on her hips, and I swear to God, she is one hundred percent her mother's daughter. "The pool is right there."

Across the deck, Beck sinks a three-pointer over Declan's outstretched arms and lets out a victory sound that carries over the entire property. He looks across and smirks at the little girl currently demanding I do something I've never done before.

"Morgan, I—"

Morgan starts tugging on my arm when Beck’s voice cuts in, catching me off-guard.

“Morgs!” He jogs up from the basketball hoop, still grinning from his three-pointer. “I’ve got an idea. You ever tried the reverse cannonball?”

“The what?” Morgan spins toward him with wide-eyed wonder, instantly distracted.

“You lean backward off the diving board. Trust me, way bigger splash. I’ll show you.” He points toward the pool but shoots me a quick glance as he leads Morgan away, his grin softening into something that looks almost… protective.

My body wobbles in a way unrelated to spending the afternoon consuming margaritas.

I think.

Relieved but suddenly unsteady, I retreat toward the outdoor bar, needing something to keep my hands busy. I’ve just grabbed a clean shaker when Beck sidles up next to me again, close enough I can feel the heat radiating off his skin.

He grabs some limes and a knife.

“So.” Beck slices the lime, his tone light. “What happened back there? You didn’t want to swim?”

“It’s not a big deal.” I grab for the margarita mix, avoiding his eyes.

Except it IS a big deal. I've spent my entire life not telling anyone my secret.

Beck sets down the knife and leans against the counter. “Darcy.”

I sigh like it’s an inconvenience, but the truth pushes its way out before I can stop it. “I never learned how to swim. Okay?”

His head tilts, eyebrows raised, and I brace for whatever teasing comment he's about to hurl.

A comment about how the girl who grew up with a tennis court, a French tutor, and a pony, somehow never managed to squeeze "basic human survival skill" into her packed schedule of being perfect at everything else.