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“Sure. How about you, RJ? Where did you say you went to college?”
“MIT.”
There was a burst of female laughter, and he glanced across the pool to the women, who were resting and sipping their own drinks of choice in lounge chairs. Waverley had prepped him on her history with all the women on the plane ride here, so he knew that the blonde next to Tracie was Julie Foley, Bryant’s wife, who, along with Tracie, had known Waverley since they were in the same sorority back at Northwestern.
The woman on the other side of Waverley was Staci Momsen, whose husband, Greg, was over on the other side of the pool yelling at someone through his cell phone. Staci had met Greg shortly after they all graduated Northwestern and had been part of their clique going on eight years.
The last woman who was seated between Waverley and Tracie was a younger woman named Lexi Hernandez, Porter’s fiancée, who definitely looked out of her element among the other women, not helped by the fact she was easily five years younger than them all.
He returned his attention to Waverley, who was sitting with a sense of quiet elegance and dignity. She wasn’t laughing outright like the rest of them; instead her mouth tilted up into a pretty smile as she tucked her honey-blond hair back behind an ear and cast a glance to Lexi as if to make sure the woman felt she was included in the revelry.
That was Waverley. As self-conscious and scared as she might be, she was still trying to think of others and put them at ease.
She would deny his assertion of her self-consciousness, of course, but he’d studied her closely in the past few weeks. Admired the poise and self-confidence that she had come into since last summer and the natural beauty she effused when she walked into a room. He’d also seen that light diminish as she stood before her father’s friends last weekend, seen her fight to regain that confidence. And now he could see her struggling again.
Which was ridiculous since she was easily the most beautiful and captivating person here.
As if sensing the attention, she looked across the pool to meet his gaze, and that smile that made him feel like he was in on a secret that no one else knew—which kind of was true—spilled across that lovely face.
The woman deserved to shine and let everyone see exactly her worth. And he was going to make sure she did just that.
“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m thinking that a dip in the pool is in order,” he said and started across the tiles, stopping in front of Waverley. He was very aware of the women’s gazes as they all turned to stare up at him, but he kept his attention solely on Waverley.
“Care to join me?” he asked, nodding his head in the direction of the pool.
She bit her full bottom lip, her hesitation clear. But he wouldn’t let that deter him, and as she watched, he loosened the band on his watch and set it on the table next to Waverley’s lounge chair, making sure that anyone who was curious could see it since he’d brought it here for that exact purpose.
With the women’s attention torn between ogling him and the 1962 Daytona Rolex—a watch that was once belonged to his maternal grandfather—Reynolds reached down and grabbed the bottom of his shirt. In one quick motion, pulled it up and over his head before dropping it on the end of Waverley’s lounge chair. There seemed to be a general intake of breath as the women stared.
He was a modest guy under most circumstances, but here, where it was all about the superficial, it seemed appropriate to let them all see exactly what he could offer Waverley Abbott. Spending a few mornings in the gym every week to counter the hours upon hours he sat on his ass doing surveillance gave him the confidence to know he could certainly hold his own with the other guys here.
Waverley was biting her bottom lip in an entirely different way now, and he noticed her eyes lit up as she stared at his chest. A dangerous game since standing here in his swim trunks didn’t offer him a semblance of privacy if things became too…exciting.
Still, there was a cover that had to be maintained.
He knelt down on the edge of her chair and, with an arm resting on each side of her, leaned forward and kissed the top of her shoulder like it was an intimacy they regularly shared. Waverley’s skin instantly prickled into goose bumps. “Come on. I’ll make it worth your while,” he said just loudly enough so the women could hear as he looked up and gazed into her shocked eyes.
“Hell, Waverley, if you don’t join him, then I will,” Tracie said, coming to her feet.
“Me, too,” Julie said.
They stepped into the pool still clutching their drinks and waded out to the deeper water before turning around to face the group.
“Don’t take it personally, RJ,” Julie said. “Waverley’s never been one for swimming. Come join—”
A loud shout followed by Bry and Porter lunging cannonball style into the water cut off anything else she might have said. A now waterlogged Tracie muttered a few choice words as she wiped the water from her face with the back of her arm, trying to clear her vision.
Staci giggled at the sight before turning to Waverley. “I’m game if you are.”
Waverley hesitated as if debating.
Finally she nodded and, taking his offered hand, let him help her to her feet. Her fingers fumbled at the tie around her waist before undoing the knot, and she pulled the light fabric away. It slipped off her shoulders, revealing a stunning and incredibly sensual body that was all curves and satiny softness that deserved some immediate attention, attention that was far beyond the rules of this little game they were playing and that would not be appropriate out here in the light of day and the people watching them.
But damn. His fingers were twitching from wanting to try.
He smiled, letting it reach the full corners of his mouth as he stared at her. More shyly, she met his eyes, and he liked to think she saw something in his grin that gave her the final push she needed as she stepped forward, radiating happiness and confidence as they headed toward the pool.
At the edge, she paused, turning around. “You have to come, too, Lexi,” she said to the newcomer.
