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I close my eyes and can feel myself drifting when I hear a squeal. One that’s very much that of a little girl. Turning my head, I watch as every woman’s fantasy walks out the back door of the house and toward the pool.
Declan is holding his daughter’s hand, his brothers Orrin, Brooks, and Rushton beside him. I refocus and see my brother leading the pack. Blakely is bouncing on the balls of her feet, excited as hell to go swimming, and I find myself smiling while watching her excitement. It’s palpable.
I’m thankful for my sunglasses as my eyes take in Brooks. His dark shaggy hair, the skintight T-shirt, and swim trunks. Memories of our night together, of my legs wrapped around his shoulders, his face buried—yeah, I can’t go there.
“Daddy, can we go in now?” Blakely asks.
“Give me a second, squirt. I need to get your swimmies blown up,” Declan tells her.
“Let Uncle Rushton do it. He’s good with his mouth.” The guys crack up laughing, and Blakely, with her four-year-old innocence, has no idea why. She just grins, knowing that her words make her dad and her uncles laugh.
“Always got my back, kiddo.” Rushton holds up his hand for a high-five, and Blakely delivers.
The guys start pulling off their shirts, all except for Rushton, who is in the process of blowing up his niece's arm floaties. It’s as if we’re at a swimsuit photo shoot for me. They’re all cut and drop-dead gorgeous, but my eyes still stray toward Brooks. It’s not just me looking at him and dreaming. This time I know what it feels like to have those strong hands gripping my thighs. I know how it feels to have his lips molded with mine. I know that he’s talented in many facets.
“Damn,” Ramsey mutters. “I’m related to them, and even I can appreciate how hot they all are,” she whispers.
“Yep.” There is no point in denying it. The Kincaid brothers are all damn sexy. Hell, even my brother can hold his own with them. Every woman in Willow River would give up salon visits for a year to be in our place right now.
I watch as Rushton and Declan make sure Blakely has her swimmies on her arms. She’s bouncing on the balls of her feet, eager to go swimming. Declan gives her a nod, and she takes off running and jumps right into the deep end. I know she can swim, but still, my heart lodges in my throat until I see her breach the surface, splashing water at Brooks, Orrin, and Deacon, who are already in the water. She swims after them, and they let her catch them. Her laughter is infectious.
“They’re so good with her,” I say.
“Yeah. They really are. That little girl holds all of their hearts in her hands.”
“They’re going to be in some big trouble when she gets older.”
“Right? Can you imagine when it’s time for her to date? She’s got her dad and nine uncles, because you know that Deacon is going to be right there as well to intimidate her date.”
“Ramsey!” Blakely calls out. “Palmer!” She calls for me too. “Come swim with us.”
“How do we say no to that?” Ramsey asks.
“We don’t.” Together, we stand and make our way to the pool. I’m glad I kept my sunglasses on. It’s going to make it easier to look at Brooks without being obvious. The only downfall is that all the guys are also wearing sunglasses, so I won’t know if he’s watching me.
I make my way down the steps into the water and walk toward my brother, who is leaning against the edge of the pool. Rushton grabs Ramsey, causing her to squeal as he lifts her into the air and carries her to Deacon.
“Delivery,” he tells my brother, making him laugh.
“Thanks.” Deacon slides his arm around Ramsey’s shoulders and pulls her close, pressing his lips against the top of her head.
I smile at the two of them, and focus on not looking at Brooks. I was wrong. Just because he’s wearing sunglasses doesn’t mean I won’t know when he’s watching me. I can feel his hot and steady gaze.
“Now, Palmer.” Rushton rubs his hands together. “What shall I do with you?”
I point at him. “You behave.”
“Nah, where’s the fun in that. Hey, Blake?”
“Yeah?” she calls back.
“Do you think Uncle Rush should dunk Palmer?”
“Yes!” Blakely cheers, and with that one word from the adorable little girl, my fate is set.
“Rushton,” I warn. He doesn’t care about my tone, and he advances on me anyway. He grips my hips and tosses me over his shoulder. His hands grip the backs of my thighs while I try to squirm out of his arms. He walks toward the deep end of the pool, and when he’s satisfied that we’re deep enough, he grips my hips and tosses me up in the air as if I’m the same size as Blakely.
I’m sputtering with laughter when I come up for air and swim toward him to retaliate. He smirks because we both know he outpowers me.
