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Unless she already knew she would just be taking them off again in a few moments, once she reached Luke.

Fuck.

I clenched my fingers around silk and lace, and sat up, crawling toward the opening of the tent, where I fumbled in the dark for the zipper before I finally managed to tear it down. In a small, cornered part of my brain, I knew I was only following her because I didn’t want her to make it to Luke, because I wanted her to come back to me, but the rest of my brain convinced myself this was merely for propriety’s sake. Because I should not be in possession of any part of Teagan’s lingerie.

“Hey!” I hissed, poking my head into the cool night.

Shit, Teagan hadn’t lied. I think my own nips wanted to freeze off my chest. “Psst. Teagan Marie Tenning,” I growled a little louder, and started to shiver. “You left your panties behind. Teagan!”

“I’ll take those,” a male voice answered a split second before the bit of cloth was ripped from my clutches.

Nearly swallowing my tongue, I looked up slowly at the silhouette towering over me. He stood just outside my tent like a menacing shadow of doom. I couldn’t see his face in the dark, but I knew his voice as well as I did my own father’s.

Ah, hell. This was probably going to hurt. A lot.

A second later, he said, “Now, would you like to tell me why my daughter just crawled out of your tent, leaving her underwear behind?”

3

Teagan

I’d just reached my own tent and was about to crawl inside like the embarrassed, humiliated mess I was when I heard the shout.

“HAM!” my father’s distinctive bellow rang out through the quiet night. “Quinn fucking Hamilton, get your fucking ass out here right fucking now before I kill your fucking kid!”

Ah, shit.

Dad knew.

How the hell did Dad already know what had happened? I swear, that man had a nanny cam planted up my ass. It was freaky weird how fast he learned shit about anything I ever did.

Then again, Mr. Goody-two-shoes JB had probably run straight to him and confessed all as soon as I had left. I could picture it now. I just thought you should know, sir. I’m so sorry, but I just felt up your daughter’s ass and tits, sir. They were so nice and warm and round they gave me wood, so you probably need to cut my hands off now, sir. And maybe my dick too. Ugh. He was nauseatingly respectful and noble like that. Honestly the best person I knew.

And now I was going to have to stop my dad from killing the dumbass Boy Scout.

“Frigging idiot,” I muttered, shimmying backward out of the tent.

Once I was upright, I raced toward Luke’s red tent, only to skid to a confused halt when I found my dad yelling obscenities at…a tree.

Around me, everyone else was appearing, flashlights popping on as Quinn scrambled from his portable shelter, followed by his wife, Zoey, and my mom climbing from her and Dad’s tent, rubbing her eyes and yawning. Then Uncle Noel, Uncle Colton, aunts, cousins, Luke. They all came flooding to the scene, demanding to know what was going on.

“What the hell?” my cousin Beau asked, poking his head from the opening of his own cubby hole, right by where I had jarred myself to a halt. “Why is your dad screaming at a tree?” he asked me moodily. “Seriously. My pregnant wife is growing a human being in here; she needs her beauty sleep.”

I rolled my eyes. Bentley was like five minutes pregnant, and Beau had to go and mention that fact in every sentence he spoke. It would’ve been incredibly sweet if it weren’t so damn annoying.

“Shh,” I hissed, waving him quiet, just as my mom demanded, “Baby, what are you shouting about?” as she pushed tangled blonde hair out of her face and yawned. “Did you have another one of your weird dreams?”

“I did not have a goddamn dream,” Dad growled. “I woke up to Teagan’s voice only to glance out of my tent and find her slinking from this tent where his asshole son”—he jabbed his finger forcefully toward Quinn—“followed her out, waving her panties around like they were some kind of victory banner.”

Everyone glanced my way, and it felt suspiciously as if they were trying to determine whether I was wearing underwear or not, so I crossed my legs, then my arms over my chest for good measure, because I’d left my bra in that red tent too. Then I scowled back at everyone for looking at me.

Zoey shook her head. “But Luke’s standing right there,” she told my dad, sounding confused as she motioned toward him.

“Not that son.” Dad grabbed Quinn’s flashlight and aimed it up into the tree where JB was spotlighted, clinging to the branches. “This one.”

JB hissed out a breath and lifted his hand to shade his eyes from the direct beam.

How he’d gotten all the way up there, I’ll never know. Although it was tall enough, the tree seriously didn’t seem big enough around to hold him. It was long and skinny and looked as if a mild breeze could knock it over.

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