An Ounce of Hope (A Pound of Flesh #2)(60)

“Yeah,” she replied, standing up and neatening the covers. “Did you?”

“Sure.” He shrugged. “I sleep good anywhere there’s a horizontal surface, ya know?”

Grace smiled, shuddering under the way his eyes traveled lazily down her cami top and sleep shorts. “Can I use the shower?” she asked, reaching for the towel folded on top of her bag.

“Yeah, of course. Buck, Josh, and I are gonna head down to the lake and set up the float and shit, maybe get the boat out. It’d be cool to spend the day on the water. It’s hot. Come down and join us when you’re ready. Uncle Vince is on breakfast duty.”

She nodded, holding the towel close. “We’re swimming today?”

Max flashed her a look that slid under her skin and made her warm. “We sure are. And you”—he took a large step toward her—“need to get that swimsuit on and show off that gorgeous body of yours.” His top teeth pressed into his bottom lip. “It’d be a damned travesty if you didn’t.”

“Oh, well, I—” she flustered, her cheeks heating. “I— Yeah, I mean, okay, I might.”

Max plucked his Ray-Ban shades from off the top of the dresser and slid them on. “That’s my girl.”

Without another word, he left the room, closing the door gently behind him. The three words he’d spoken wrapped around Grace like a warm hug and sent her heart into a very confusing frenzy.

“Hey, Grace!” Ruby waved maniacally from where she stood at the water’s edge. “Come over here, honey!”

Max was right: It was scorching hot. Grace’s skin tingled under the sun’s rays as she made her way to where the women of the house had set up their own little sun-worshipping oasis. Towels, loungers, beach umbrellas, and coolers were all in attendance, while the shouts and splashes Grace could hear alerted her to the fact that all the boys were in the lake doing . . . something.

“They’re arguin’ about floats and damn float fasteners,” Ruby said with an eye roll. “We may never see them again.” The red of Ruby’s two-piece made her gray eyes pop, with not a muffin top in sight.

Grace glanced down at herself, suddenly conscious of the lush bodies around her. The swimsuit she was wearing was a yellow one-piece, a color that had always suited her. Yellow brought out the dark, warm tones of her skin, her momma had said. She’d bought her new swimsuit in haste two days before the trip to the cabin and hadn’t tried it on until it was too late to take it back.

The legs were cut high, showing a couple of the scars on her hip, while the back was low, showing glimpses of the scars on her side. That’s why she’d thrown on a thin white T-shirt she’d found crumpled on top of Max’s bag. She hoped he didn’t mind her borrowing his clothes, but the thought of walking around just in her suit dried her throat.

The T-shirt slipped down one shoulder and she’d tied it in a loose knot at her hip, leaving a small sliver of the lower half of her swimsuit showing. She’d never worn so little around other people, and outside to boot. Months ago, she’d never have dreamed of being so daring. She remembered wearing a bikini in her backyard one burning summer day. Rick had come home high and pissed and had beaten her with his shoe when he found her. He’d called her a whore because who knows who could have seen her flashing her slutty ass all over the place.

Their yard was private. No one had seen. But Rick’s paranoia was a devastating thing.

“Maybe I should change?” she murmured suddenly, reaching for the shades on her head. Ruby’s hand on hers was as surprising as it was a relief.

“No. Don’t. You look incredible.”

“You sure do,” Carla added. “Girl, if I had legs like yours, I’d wear that outfit all the time.”

Okay, so maybe this chick wasn’t too bad, even if she did have a full face of makeup in one-hundred-degree heat. As long as she kept her eyes off Max, Grace would get along with her juuuuust fine. Her sudden possessiveness over Max was neither surprising nor worrying. It was in her nature. She’d always been that way with family, friends, boyfriends . . .

Grace looked out over the water at the sound of Vince’s voice in the middle of the lake. She immediately spotted Max, shades still in place, shirtless and wet from the water, grinning at Buck as he tried to get the float to stay in place. Good God the man was dangerous. He truly was a vision. Unshaven, board shorts low, his lean runner’s body kissed by the sun. Grace wanted to kiss him. She wanted to kiss him all over. She imagined he’d taste divine, if the smells he left in the shower were anything to go by.

“Beer?” Ruby asked, holding a bottle of Heineken up to Grace’s nose.

Grace glanced at her watch. It was eleven thirty. “Sure. Why not? It’s five o’clock somewhere, right?”

“That’s what we like,” Max’s aunt Fern commented as she approached wearing a bikini top and sarong, carrying what looked like a tray full of homemade Popsicles and Jell-O shots. There was no way there wasn’t any alcohol in those bad boys. Things were going to get messy, and fast.

“That float looks like a damned house,” Grace observed, sipping her beer and placing her bag on one of the loungers. The float was huge and could hold at least ten people. It was like a floating deck, complete with steps into the water.

“It’s great, right?” Aunt Fern replied. “Vince and I bought that a few years ago. It’s the envy of the lake, you know?”