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“My ankle is fine. It was just a little swollen.”

“A little swollen isn’t fine, Freckles,” he replied. “I don’t want you doing anything strenuous for a while.”

She wondered what he considered strenuous. Would riding that firm cock of his while he lay on his back be strenuous? She wouldn’t have to put any pressure on her ankle.

Shoot.

Stop it.

What was wrong with her? This wasn’t like her. Hussy.

Whore.

She wasn’t, though. She knew she wasn’t.

“Understand?” he said. “No running or walking too far. What did Obian say about your ankle?”

“Um, I didn’t tell him.”

“We need to work on your communication, Freckles. You need to start telling people how you feel. Especially when you’re in pain. And if you can’t do that . . . then one of us will have to step in and do it for you.”

She didn’t know what to say to that. So she just nodded.

Then she took in the others. They’d set up a space several hundred feet down the beach. She wasn’t sure why they’d gone so far, but that didn’t matter. A blanket was laid out on the sand and a couple of chairs were set up. There was also an umbrella for shade. And buckets, spades, flippers, snorkels, towels, along with a giant blow-up ball. And was that a volleyball set?

But even stranger than the sheer amount of stuff was the fact that Judd and Owen were staring down at everything as though they had no idea what to do with it.

“Um, are they okay?” she asked.

“Hmm, that’s debatable.” He sent her a wink. “But if you mean right in this moment . . . I think they’re confused.”

“By beach stuff?” That sounded weird.

Beck eyed them as they drew close. “You two okay?”

“Ah, yep.” Judd rubbed his forehead. “Just not sure what to do now.”

“Well, you can sit if you want.” She kneeled on the blanket. She glanced at the bucket and spade. Would anyone think her weird for wanting to build a sandcastle?

Beck sat on the edge of the blanket while Owen and Judd sat in the chairs.

“These things are more comfortable than they look,” Owen said.

“Have the two of you never had a picnic on the beach?” she asked. That’s what they were acting like . . . but that couldn’t be the case.

Right?

But as their silence grew, she stared over at them. She shared a look with Beck, who didn’t seem that surprised.

She hadn’t had a great childhood . . . but even her mom had taken her to the beach a few times.

“Where did you grow up?” she asked.

“Harlem,” Judd said.

Owen nodded. “Same.”

She hadn’t been to New York, so she wasn’t sure if there were beaches nearby.

“Oh, did you know each other growing up?” she asked as Beck searched through some bags.

“Yeah,” Owen said. “We lived in the same neighborhood. Kind of.”

Kind of?

“When I lived with a foster family for a while, we went on the train to Long Island once,” Judd said. “I didn’t really join in, though. I was . . . angry at the world, I guess. Just sat there, sulking. I was sixteen. I’ve always regretted that.”

Wow. She hadn’t expected him to be that open with her.

“Never went to the beach until I could drive,” Owen said. “And then it was because we were searching for a place to bury . . .” he trailed off, looking around at them all. “Never mind.”

She gaped at him. Had he been about to say that they were looking for a spot to bury a body?

Surely not.

She had an overactive imagination.

“Here, let me put some sunscreen on you.” Beck sat behind her and squirted some into his hands before running it over her exposed shoulders and arms. She shivered and he removed his hands. “Okay?”

“It’s cold,” she explained.

“Ahh, sorry, Freckles. I should have warmed it up first.”

Jeez, who were these guys? And how could she keep them?

She was all too aware of Judd and Owen watching Beck.

“I’m starting to see the appeal of the beach,” Owen said strangely.

What did that mean?

Judd grunted in reply.

Beck moved around to her front. “Feet.

“I can do my feet.”

“Feet,” he repeated.

She kicked off her sandals and he took one foot in his lap and slathered it in sunscreen up to her knees. Even though they were covered.

Then he did the same to the other one.

Dear Lord.

Who’d have thought that having sunscreen put on could be such a sexy experience?

Then he moved on to her hands and forearms. She swore he was taking his time.

Not that she was complaining.

“Face,” he said after he finished her arms. He tilted her face back and dabbed the sunscreen on before rubbing it in. Then he kissed the tip of her nose. “Good girl.”

She smiled.

“We need to buy a vat of sunscreen,” Owen said.

“Uh-huh,” Judd agreed.

They were being so weird.

“I’m hot.” Owen suddenly stood and stripped off his T-shirt. “I need more sunscreen on, though.”

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