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Two days passed before Sabrina saw Teague again.
Her last sighting had been Friday night when he’d pulled Candace from his truck and dragged the voluptuous redhead into his cottage to do…
Well, it was obvious what they were going to do. And it was obviously none of her business. If he wanted to bring a woman back to his place, he could. As far as she knew, he was single and that’s what single people did.
They met people. They connected. And they had sex. Probably lots of sex. Lots of hot sweaty sex. So good for him. No reason for her to get bent out of shape over it.
So Monday morning found Sabrina sitting on the dock while the kids were splashing about at the edge of the lake. They ran back and forth onto the beach and filled the holes they’d dug with buckets of water. Honestly, she had no idea how such a simple act could keep them engrossed for so long, but she’d take it. The book she’d been trying to read lay beside her and Sabrina gritted her teeth as the “song of summer” erupted from her iPod. Hell, she didn’t even know the title of the song and whoever thought that playing the same song once every forty minutes was a good idea should be fired.
Her daughter was singing along—totally unaware that her ability to sing on key was non-existent—when something made Sabrina pause. Shading her eyes, she glanced around and spied Teague on his deck looking down at her. She jerked her head back so fast it was a miracle she didn’t snap it.
Her heart started up and she knew that her pale cheeks were no longer creamy white, but stained a nice shade of pink. An image of him and Candace snuck into her mind and she swallowed. Hard. What the hell?
Doing anything but looking back up there, Sabrina tapped her bare toe against the dock as if she was actually digging the stupid song. After a few minutes, she ventured a peek over the brim of her sunglasses, but he was gone.
Clearing her throat, she reached for her lemon water and took a good long drink, eyes on her kids, but not really seeing them.
She was restless but didn’t know what she wanted to do. And that wasn’t a good omen considering she was staring at the beginning of a long summer on the lake. When Brent was around, there was always something on the go. Her husband had loved the outdoors and he loved sharing it with their kids even more. The fact that his job allowed him the summer off to come up here with his family had been his dream.
Brent.
That old familiar ache grabbed her hard, but she refused to wallow in it. She couldn’t wallow in it.
“Mommy, I’m hungry.”
Because it was time for lunch.
“Wash your hands from the tap inside the boathouse.” Sabrina watched the twins scamper up the dock and disappear inside and while they were cleaning up, she unpacked the cooler she’d brought down.
Morgan grumbled about tuna sandwiches while Harry was thrilled she’d taken the time to cut up some cucumber. They each grabbed a juice box and argued about what was better, pineapple punch (Harry) or straight-up strawberry (Morgan). As far as Sabrina could tell, neither one of them won the argument, though she was pretty sure they’d each think they’d won.
The three of them were just finishing up when Teague stepped onto the dock.
He was shirtless with low slung cargoes that showed an expressive span of skin below his bellybutton, and big ass work boots. Was it weird that her first thought was he looked good?
“What are those things?” Morgan stood up and pointed at Teague. There were scars puckered along his abdomen and several more across his chest. Some were old and faded, but others were raw and angry looking.
Mortified, Sabrina sprang to her feet. “Morgan!” Her eyes flew to Teague. “I’m sorry, she’s always saying the first thing that pops into her head.”
Mirrored aviators covered his eyes so she couldn’t gage his reaction, but he shrugged and shoved his hands into his front pockets, turni
ng to her daughter.
“They’re scars.”
“Oh,” Harry said, getting to his feet and walking toward Teague. “Do they hurt?”
Teague shook his head. “Not anymore.”
“How did you get them?” Morgan asked.
“I…” Teague paused. “I was doing my job and there was…an accident.”
“What’s your job?” Harry asked.
A heartbeat passed.
“Harry, my line of work isn’t exactly easy to explain.”
