Gold (All that Glitters #2)(51)

Fuck me sideways. He’s so freaking hot. The hot ones are always gay.

When she padded out toward him, he glanced up from his notebook.

“Oh, sure. Pour yourself a glass. I wasn’t going to drink that.”

“I knew you made a double batch just for me.” She beamed.

“You’re nothing if not predictable.”

She laughed. “Yeah, right. What about me is predictable?”

“You’re here”—he gestured to the pool area—“every Sunday afternoon like clockwork.”

“I’m here all the time. That’s not fair.”

“Life isn’t fair, Hollywood.”

“Well, that’s the damn truth.” Even though a half-dozen lounge chairs were around the pool, she sat down right on the edge of his seat. Half of her body blocked his sun, and she lounged halfway back on his lap. “Ah, this is the life.”

He looked down at her from over the top of his Wayfarers. “You’re chipper.”

“The universe has been very nice to me today.”

“Is that so?” Eric asked.

“Mmhmm. I am now the proud owner of a new house.”

He tilted his head to the side, and it was all she needed to know that he thought she was being ridiculous.

“A house? How the hell could you afford to buy a house? Or did your dad finally budge and let you out of you living with Pace?”

“No, he didn’t, and I didn’t buy it. It was given to me.”

“Someone gave you a new house? How exactly did you acquire this property?”

“Hugh.”

“Is…”

“The guy I’m seeing,” she finished for him.

“Digging, you mean. I know those words are kind of similar, but they mean slightly different things.”

“Sure. Seeing, digging—whatever. Same thing.”

“So, this poor sap handed you the keys to a house?”

“Yep. Pretty much.” She tipped half of the margarita back in her mouth. “Like I said, this is the life.”

“I feel so bad for this guy.” Eric closed his notebook and set it down next to his drink. “He has no idea who he’s dealing with.”

“Oh, please,” Bryna said, dismissively waving her hand. “Don’t get all judgy on me, E. He likes it, and he knows exactly what’s happening.”

“And do you?”

“Of course,” she purred. She closed her eyes and soaked up the sun. “I always know what I’m doing.”

He snorted at her comment. “Sounds like someone needs a reality check.”

All of a sudden, Eric was moving. His arms slid under the crook her legs and then her shoulders. She didn’t even have time to wriggle out of his grasp before he was hoisting her into the air and cradling her against his chest. He was smirking, and she knew that was not a good thing.

“What the f*ck?” she cried. “Oh my God, what are you doing?”

He walked toward the edge of his pool.

“If you get me near that pool, I will murder you.”

“This is for your own good.”

“Eric!” she screamed.

But it was no use. Without another thought, he effortlessly tossed her, completely clothed, into the crystal-clear water. Her body crashed through the still water, and she sank under.

Holy shit!

She clambered for the surface, sputtering, as her head popped out of the water. “It’s fr-freezing, you *!”

But Eric wasn’t listening to her. He was doubled over, laughing hysterically. His laughter was infectious, and even though she was pissed at him, she suddenly couldn’t stop laughing either.

“What did you just do?” she asked.

She swam to the edge of the pool and lifted her shaking figure out of the water. Her dress was ruined. It was silk, and now, she was going to have to toss it. Not to mention, her hair and makeup that she had just had done at the spa earlier this afternoon was beyond ruined. Hundreds of dollars had gone down the drain, all with one throw into the pool.

“You should see yourself right now,” Eric got out between laughing. “My ribs. Christ, it hurts.”

“I don’t want to hear it. I’m the one soaking wet.”

“You look like a drowned rat.”

“How flattering,” she said. She shook her head, and more laughter pealed out of her. She didn’t even know why it was so funny. She was freezing and wet, but she couldn’t stop laughing. She tried to pull herself together. “Well, here’s your reality check, Cowboy. I’m not afraid of a little water.”

She reached behind herself and grabbed the zipper on the back of her dress. She dragged it to the base of her spine. The material was sticky and hugged her frame. She pulled it off her shoulders and over her breasts. She wiggled it over her hips and then let it land with a wet squish on the floor. That left her in nothing but a soaked sheer white La Perla bra and thong set.

She spread her arms wide. “I’m not afraid, and you’ve now ruined a four-hundred-dollar dress. Let’s play.”

He swallowed and averted his eyes. “I’m not getting in that water.”

“You can dish it out, but you can’t take it?”

His eyes shot back to hers, and for a second, it was as if he were checking her out. But she knew he wasn’t. He was probably embarrassed that she wasn’t embarrassed. She knew she had a rocking body. Nothing to be ashamed of.