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And because Connor was a big brother—and he had a master’s in tormenting his little sister—he stood up, brushed his shorts off. “I’ll let you deal with the spiders”—he reached down suddenly, pretended to pick something up and tossed the handful of sand toward her lap—“like that one!”
Soph shrieked and toppled over backward, frantically scrubbing at her legs before freezing and glaring up at him. “You ass—”
He cleared his throat, slanted his gaze at the children.
A glare tossed his way. “You evil,evilman.”
He blew her a kiss. “Just keeping my little sis in check.”
“You know that payback will be coming, right?”
Another kiss her way. “Bring it o—”
But he didn’t even get the taunt fully out before he was tossed over someone’s back, his body bouncing against someone’s shoulder and stealing his breath. Stealing it so intensely that it took a minute for Connor to realize where he was being carried.
“Don’t… You…Fucking…” he puffed as Rob waded into the water, cold flecks of it splashing up to hit Connor’s arms and legs.
The flecks were cold.
Fucking hell.
“Dare,” he finished.
Rob straightened with a grunt, which he had to admit had the beneficial byproduct of removing his gut from Rob’s stomach. Unfortunately, it was also accompanied by the removal of Connor’s body from Rob’s back.
He had the chance to suck in exactly one half of a breath as he was airborne before he was in the waves, the cold a shock that stung every inch of his body.
Smirk twisting his mouth as the wave receded, Rob held up a finger. “One, don’t tease my wife. Two”—he jumped back as a wave splashed up (and over Connor, who was still sprawled on the wet sand), leaving Connor sputtering and him holding up a second finger—“you’re welcome for the rinse-off.”
Then Rob was turning away,walkingaway.
“Payback!” Soph yelled over the laughter of his brothers, holding her wriggling son on her hip.
“Traitors!” Connor shouted back, though his outrage was undermined by another wave splashing over him and leaving him sputtering.
“Here,” came a voice as he was swiping his eyes.
He squinted against the salty, burning water, looking up to see Raven had waded her way out toward him, legs long and lean and tanned beneath her shorts. Most of her torso and arms were covered and her shorts were longer than normal—all precautions that made sense considering her freshly healed skin.
It would be sensitive to the sun and other elements for a while yet.
“Connor?” she asked, and he blinked, realized he’d been staring at her, at those long legs and the careful expression in her eyes.
Right.
He reached for her outstretched hand, allowed her to haul him up while still being careful to not give her too much of his weight (go, his baby acting skills courtesy of Soph). Though, they couldn’t too that good considering the arch look Raven shot him.
Still, she handed him the towel that she’d brought over without comment.
Something he would have considered a miracle a few months ago.
Something that prickled down his spine today.
Because of the apology.
Because of the guilt, pain, acceptance, and peace.
“Thanks,” he murmured, wiping his eyes.
