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“Sure, I need to cool off.”
He gestured in the direction of the water, like a gentleman offering for me to walk ahead.
When we neared the pool, we discovered the rest of our group already swimming, enjoying a round of fist-bumps and well-intentioned celebratory head-dunks amidst peals of laughter and reassured sighs. Well, except Carter. He had his back to one of the pergola’s columns, a disturbed look on his face. He tipped his head, eyes on Jack, a signal for him to join him.
“Give me a second,” Jack said before starting Carter’s way.
I went ahead into the pool, taking the steps. My sister and the others were gathering in the shallow water, casually talking. Lucy seemed to have everyone wrapped up in one of her stories, talking with her hands. Mason seemed a bit enchanted by her.
I really did love how truly carefree Lucy could be at times, and wished I could let go here and there. But while she couldn’t hide it from me, Mom had always done her best to shield Lucy from the dark shit, and I’d done my best to do the same.
Mom had never taught her what she taught me, either. Hell, even the afternoon after I’d slugged Shane, instead of grounding me, Mom taught me the proper way to throw a punch to better protect my knuckles if there was a next time.
I forced away the memories, but instead of joining the others, I swam over to the deep end to try and do a little eavesdropping on Jack and Carter. They were in one of the camera-free zones I’d scouted out as a safe place to talk yesterday.
Jack had his back to me, blocking Carter, which meant I couldn’t read their lips. But Jack’s back muscles pinched together at something I assumed Carter had said, then he shook his head, turned, and came over to the water, diving in as if he didn’t even see me there.
He pushed up to the surface and dragged a hand through his thick, wet hair. He set his eyes on me, and why the hell did he have to be so handsome? Handsome men had never made me lose sight of an objective, and I couldn’t allow it to happen this time. I had to remove whatever power his eyes had over me from the equation and remember my current mission: protect my sister and win the money.
Jack swam over to me and offered a quick, “Sorry about that.”
“Everything okay?”
“It will be,” was all he gave me.
“Today was . . . weird, right?” Small talk and I weren’t a thing. Not friends. Neighbors. Not even distant relatives.
“It was most definitely not the norm for me.” He smiled, a hint of his perfect teeth showing. “Can’t believe you’re only thirty-one, though.” His unexpected comment threw me off, and even though I didn’t verbally say anything, I guessed my face said volumes. “Shit, sorry, I don’t mean because you look older . . .” He swam over to the ledge, and I hesitantly followed him.
Setting my arm on the side so I didn’t have to keep kicking my legs as hard to stay above water in the deep end, I teased, “You planning on trying to recover from that comment?”
“You’re just so wise, you know?” He frowned. “Like, I feel like you’re older than me.” He shook his head and sighed. “This is going great.”
“Perfect, actually. Good to know I look like an antique.” And before he could fumble again, I added, “That was a joke.” I smirked, but based on his uneasy look, I went ahead and explained what he was trying to say for him, “I’ve had a life that has mentally aged me. And I’ve always been a bit of an old soul.”
“That’s what I meant. And not that thirty-one-year-olds aren’t mature, you’re just . . . you’re different.” He grimaced as if still beating himself up for his word choice. “We seemed to click back in Cape Town, and I don’t usually click with anyone if they weren’t born before 1990. Because fuck, maybe I am vintage.” He splashed the water at his side as he added, “I just never knew I could relate to someone who didn’t grow up drinking from the water hose or using the streetlights coming on as their curfew.” He listed a few more things, such as prank calling random people you found in a phonebook. “And don’t get me started on not knowing what TGIF used to mean. Parking your butt in front of the TV on a Friday night for Family Matters, Full House, and—”
“You don’t date much, do you?” I hid a smile, because to be honest, his rambling was cute.
“That obvious?” He killed me with a lopsided smile that was smoking hot when he’d probably meant it as an innocent expression.
“I don’t date, either,” I admitted. “And while I didn’t have all of those experiences, I did watch the reruns for those shows.” One shoulder lift later, I asked, “So, does that make me a little bit cooler in your book now?”
He started to reach for my face, then withdrew his hand. “Why do I get the feeling you’re not someone who would truly care about being cool, not to someone else, at least?”
True. But. “Maybe for the right person . . .” Where am I going with that? Hell, I caved. Gave him a genuine smile. Dimple included.
“Ready to clean up for dinner? I’m sure you’re anxious to be alone later.” Stephen squatted alongside us, killing the mood. Shit, had I really lost myself in the moment and forgotten we were on camera? In a few weeks, people would be eating popcorn while watching us, listening to our private conversation.
Wait, didn’t Jack say the show would never see the light of day, or did I imagine those words by the river?
“We’re ready,” Jack said, his eyes catching mine, and I resisted the urge to reach out for this man. To search for his heartbeat to calm me. Guide me through this situation even if that didn’t make sense.
Danger and risks I understood. Knew well.
But this?
“You are ready, right?” Jack asked once Stephen had left us alone, and I knew he was asking me something else. Something far different than if I was ready for a shower.
