Faking Forever (First Wives #4)(36)
Like now . . . with her sun-kissed tan, her white bikini crisscrossed over her back, holding her breasts in place, while the adequate bottoms hid enough but showed off a lot.
Avery had whistled when she helped secure the top before Shannon left that morning. “Way to pull out the big guns,” she’d commented right before returning to the bathroom and revisiting the liquor from the night before.
If it wasn’t for Avery yelling at her to leave her to die in peace, Shannon would have bailed on the day.
But she’d been in Avery’s position before and preferred to suffer alone.
Shannon looked up to find Victor staring.
Channeling her inner Avery, Shannon turned to the side and cheated her butt to the man. “Do I have something out of place?”
He narrowed his eyes, cleared his throat. “That suit should be illegal.”
His honest groan empowered her. “It probably is in Dubai.”
Leo heard them, laughed, and handed them their snorkeling gear.
On the shore, Leo helped her into the front of the kayak and encouraged Victor to climb in the back. Once they were all set, Leo rowed in front of them into the bay.
“I haven’t done this in years,” Shannon told Victor over her shoulder.
“I can beat that. I haven’t done this at all.”
“Really? Not even at summer camp?”
She matched Victor’s pace with the paddle, digging left and then right, until they found a rhythm that would take them away from shore.
“I never went to summer camp.”
“That’s a shame. The best things in life happened at summer camp.”
“What kinds of things?” Victor asked.
“Things like this. Kayaking, getting dumped in the water from a canoe. Campfires and ghost stories. First kisses.”
“Ohh, tell me about those.”
She grinned. “The ghost stories?”
He splashed her with his paddle. “The kisses. What was his name?”
She looked back at the memory. “Russell Lipski.”
“Lipski? You’re making that up.”
“Why would I lie about a name like that?”
Victor laughed. “How was Mr. Lipski?”
“Cold, wet hands. Dry lips. It was over before it started. I ran back to my cabin to tell the other girls that he’d kissed me. What about you? What was her name?”
“Wendy Simmons,” he said in a dreamy voice.
Shannon looked over her shoulder, caught him smiling. “That good?”
“She was older than me.”
The image of a teenage cougar came to mind. “How much older?”
“Fifth grade when I was in fourth.”
Her jaw dropped. “Your first kiss was in fourth grade?”
“It was the last week in school before summer.”
“I’m not sure that’s any better.”
Victor laughed. “I think Wendy did it on a dare, but that didn’t stop me from bragging about it all summer long.”
“So it was never repeated?” Shannon turned around, kept rowing.
“Nope. Wendy’s parents moved them away that summer. I was devastated until Halloween.”
Shannon was afraid to ask. “Why Halloween?”
“Because Mia Fletcher dressed up like a cat and made me forget all about Wendy.”
Laughter caught in her gut. “Men are so easy.”
“That we are. Isn’t that right, Leo?”
Shannon glanced at their guide, rowing alongside them.
“It’s a curse, I’m afraid.”
They all laughed.
Since they were talking so candidly, Shannon risked a couple more questions. “Can I ask you something?”
“Go ahead.”
“Why do you work so hard?”
He was silent as they rowed a few times.
Shannon glanced over her shoulder to see if he had heard her.
Victor was concentrating on the oar in his hands, his lips in a straight line.
“Never mind, you don’t have to answer that.”
“No, no . . . I’m trying to think of a quick answer.”
She turned back to the sea in front of her. “We’re going to be out here for a while. A long answer is fine.”
It was still a few breaths before he started to talk. “It’s my company. When I started it, I was only twenty. Granted, it was only me back then, but now I have employees and plants, and teams. I’m responsible for keeping this company going and the jobs it provides. People depend on Vic Corp to put food on their tables.”
His answer was unexpected. Not to mention completely selfless. The image of the self-centered all about me man she’d met on the plane dissipated with his explanation.
“That sounds like a lot of stress on one man’s shoulders,” she told him.
“Most days it is.”
Once again, she looked over her shoulder. Their eyes caught and he smiled.
“But not today,” she said.
“No. Today would be the opposite of stressful.”
“The word is relaxing,” she teased.
He pushed his oar deeper into the sea, let his muscles ripple as he put his back into the job of pushing them forward. “I have a feeling this relaxing might need a good massage once we’re done.”