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“True, son. She’s never been able to grow dandelions, not like Payton. That girl could take a dying plant and nurse it back to health. Emmie’s that way too.”
We watch them play for a few minutes. Dean walks over and joins us, a wide smile across his face. “Hey, man.” He sticks out his hand and I shake it readily. I’ve come to really like and respect Payton’s boyfriend. “Don’t get too close or you’ll find yourself with mud flung at you.”
“Like monkeys flinging shit,” Ryan grumbles as he walks up and stands beside us. He’s wearing a new shirt and flip-flops, but still has residue of mud on his arms and legs. Even though he’s trying to act all tough and upset, I can still see the hint of a smile on his lips and the way his eyes light up when he watches his girl. “So much for growing a garden,” he says, shaking his head.
“Unless you were going to grow it, I don’t think Jaime had any intentions of planting zucchini, tomatoes, or cucumbers,” Orval says. “Besides, a woman only needs one zucchini in her life, and as long as you’re packing a good one, which I know ol’ Ryan is, based on the moans coming from that bed and breakfast last summer, well, that’s all that matters.” That’s when Ryan chokes on his beer, spraying it from his mouth. Thank God no one was standing in front of him.
“What are you guys over here talking about?” Abby asks, walking up and standing in front of me. I get a good look at my girl–shit, no my friend. The sun bounces off the mud streaks in her hair, and there’s a big clump on her chest. Mud, not hair. My fingers twitch to remove it for her, maybe copping a bit of a feel while I’m at it. But then everyone around us would see and that’ll just turn the relationship spotlight on Abby and me. No thank you.
“Zucchini,” I tell her with a bright smile.
“Zucchini?” she asks, crinkling up her adorable little nose. “You boys are weird.”
“Payton loves zucchini,” Dean mumbles, making me crack up.
“Yeah, anyway, Meghan had to go to the bathroom so we need you to come over and fill in for her.” Then the little vixen bats her eyelashes at me.
“Not gonna happen, sweetheart. I’m wearing good shoes,” I say, pointing down at my crappy pair of old Nikes.
“Get your rear out there before Lexi comes over here and makes you,” she retorts, that sweet and innocent smile spreading across her face. “You know she doesn’t play fair.”
“Fine. You want me? You got me,” I quip with fire, stripping my shoes and socks off and throwing them on the ground. Abby smiles sweetly before rejoining her sisters.
“You’re going in there? You realize this is a trap, right?” Dean asks, glancing from me to where the girls all smile warmly and innocently.
“Oh, I know,” I say as I strip my phone and wallet from my shorts. Then, as if I didn’t have a care in the world, I reach behind my neck and pull off my t-shirt. A gasp comes from my left, and if I had to wager a bet, I’d say it came from Abby. “Here,” I say to Dean, tossing my shirt in his direction. “It’s my favorite. I don’t want it to get muddy.”
Taking a quick drink of my beer, I walk towards the makeshift volleyball court with a smile on my face.
“Wait, did she say Meghan went to use the bathroom? In the house?” Ryan asks. “Jaime!”
“It’ll be fine, babe. Mud washes,” she replies sweetly, throwing in a wink for good measure.
The mud is cold between my toes as I walk out on the opposite side of the net from my friend. I keep my shades over my eyes for the sun, but they also hide the fact that they’re zeroed in on one woman. She wouldn’t know that though because her eyes are planted firmly on my chest. Martians could touch down and steal her sisters, and unless they landed directly on my abs, she wouldn’t have a clue.
“Abby! Pay attention,” I holler over the net. “This one’s coming at ya.” Throwing a cocky smile her way, I grab the nasty, wet ball and throw it in the air. I hit it hard and to the right, aiming for the corner of the court where she’d have a hard time getting it. She moves, but not quick enough and basically face-plants in the muck.
“Point!” AJ exclaims from our side of the court, giving me a high-five.
“Ready for another?” I ask, glancing her way. She’s getting up off the ground, flicking mud and clumps of grass off her body. Lucky fucking mud.
When she’s in position, I do it again, except this time I hit it a bit short so she has to move forward. Jaime tries to go for it too, but neither of them is quick enough and the ball lands between them in the mud.
“That’s two,” I bellow, as the ball is whipped back at me.
“You wanna play hardball, Mr. Morgan? Fine. Bring me your best shot. I bet you won’t get a third point,” she throws at me with venom. And I’ll be damned if my cock doesn’t respond again. Or maybe it’s the fact that her mud-caked shirt has ridden up and a strip of her stomach is showing.
Grinning a wide smile, I toss the ball in the air and let it rip. This time, it aims straight at her. I put a little too much heat behind the ball and my heart actually stops when I realize it’s heading straight for her. For her head. She tries to duck, but it’s no use. The gross as shit, muddy ball slams into the side of her head and my girl goes down.
Hard.
I’m already on the move before her sisters even have time to yell. Diving under the net, I drop to my knees in the mud beside her unmoving body. She’s on her side, her face slack, the left side of her forehead turning a nasty shade of red. “Abs!” I holler, trying not to move her. If she has a neck or head injury, I could do more harm than good by trying to move her.
Shadows surround me as everyone gathers around. “Abs, can you hear me?” I say, bending down to get closer. I can tell she’s breathing, which is a good sign. “Abs?” I whisper by the side of her face as close to her ear as I can get. I’m so consumed with guilt and fear that I don’t even know it’s happening until I’m falling.
No, not falling.
I was pulled.
