Reckless Hearts (Oak Harbor #2)(15)

I do, as Sawyer’s phone sounds. He checks it, then grins, before quickly tucking it away. I look between them again. “Seriously, what’s going on? You guys are acting weird.”

“What? Weird? No!” Lottie sizes me up. “Did you bring your suit? The water’s great.”

“I think the pool’s a little small for me,” I say slowly, still trying to figure this out.

“Then let’s just sunbathe instead,” Lottie insists. “You look really cute in that red bikini. You’re in great shape these days.”

“Thanks, but I’m good. Maybe later,” I add, looking between them again. There’s definitely something they’re hiding, but it’s too beautiful a day to waste. I shrug. “You guys keep your little secrets, me and Kit are going to blow some epic bubbles, isn’t that right?”

I scoop him up, ready to grab the supplies I bought, when Lottie sees something behind me. Her face brightens. “Hey, you made it!”

“Sure, sorry I’m running late.” That voice comes again. The sexy drawl that’s been following me all around town, at least, that’s what it feels like. I turn, bracing myself, but nothing can prepare me for the sight of Will in a faded T-shirt that brings out the green in his eyes. He looks puzzled for a moment, almost like he’s surprised to see me. Then he holds up a grocery bag, and gives me an irresistible grin. “I brought ice cream.”

With a cherry on top.





Six.


The guys head inside to go fetch more beers, but the minute they’re out of hearing distance, I grab Lottie. “What are you playing at?” I hiss, keeping my voice down.

“Me? Nothing!” She beams. “Sawyer ran into him at the bar the other night, and they hit it off. Something about sports,” she gives an innocent shrug. “It’s a small town, you know how it goes.”

“Sure,” I reply, those butterflies in my stomach starting their nervous dance. So much for a relaxed, easygoing afternoon. Now I’m going to be on edge all day, hyper-aware of whenever Will speaks, or smiles, or even looks at me . . .

“What’s the problem, anyway?” Lottie asks, sounding casual. “You said it yourself, he’s not chasing after you. So if you don’t want to date him, we can all just be friends, right?”

“Right,” I echo quietly as she heads inside, leaving me and Kit to our games. I find the bubble supplies, and start showing him how to blow through the loop of soapy liquid, but I keep glancing back towards the house. What’s he doing here? Did he know I was friends with Sawyer too? Soon, they all emerge again with plates of food for the grill, and Will wanders over to say hi to Kit.

He sits on the lawn beside us, stretching his long legs out in front. “Those are some pretty epic bubbles,” he says casually. “Mind if I try?”

“Sure.” My voice sounds weirdly perky. Get it together. “Here, use mine.”

I pass him the wand, and watch as he blows a stream into the air. Kit scrambles around trying to catch them, still unsteady on his feet. Will smiles, watching him. “Just to be clear, I didn’t know you’d be here,” he says, looking over. “Sawyer just said it would be a fun group. I don’t want you to feel like I’m following you around or anything.”

I let out a slow sigh of relief. It didn’t seem like Will to push the subject. “Sorry. I didn’t know anything about it either. I think my friends are trying to play match-maker.”

“They’ve got good taste,” he quips, and I laugh, relaxing.

“They mean well, I think. Anyway, sorry you got railroaded.”

He shrugs. “I don’t mind. It’s good to meet people, and your friends seem like fun.”

I look over to where Lottie and Sawyer are stationed by the grill. They’re watching us closely, but quickly turn away, pretending to talk about the meat. “Fun, with zero sense of boundaries sometimes.” I look back at Will. “Don’t you miss everyone, back in New York?” I ask, curious. “You must have left friends behind, family . . . ?”

He picks up his beer and takes a slow sip. “It’s not too far. I’m actually closer to my folks now, so I’m already getting the third degree about when I’ll come visit more.”

I laugh. “Tell me about it. My parents moved only an hour away. My mom seems to think that means I should be over for dinner three times a week. I mean, I love them, but . . .”

“Not that much,” Will finishes, grinning.

The sunlight hits his face, making his tan glow golden, and his messy dark hair looks threaded with light. I feel something tighten in my chest, an inexplicable desire to reach up and push it out of his eyes, lean into his broad shoulders, find that nook against his chest where I already know I fit just right.

I grab the bubble wand instead. “I can’t believe you bought some place without calling me first,” I say brightly, trying to get the conversation back to safer ground. “You had my realtor card and everything.”

Will chuckles. “So you’re just mad you lost out on a sale? Sorry to disappoint. The truth is, it all moved pretty fast. I looked around online, found a spot, and bought it before I even stepped foot in town.”

“That’s . . . impulsive,” I say.

He smiles. “Guess I was just ready for a change. When it’s right, it’s right,” he adds, holding my gaze.