Page 9 of My Ex-Fiance's Best Men

The salty breeze fills my lungs, and I whisper to myself, “Breathe, Phoebe. Just breathe.”

Just fun in the sun. Maybe if I repeat the words over and over, they’ll set in stone and all of my insecurities will just disappear.

I look around and notice other people at the resort. Most of them are young, like me, though slim and pretty. Caramel tans and veneered smiles. Skimpy, brightly colored bikinis and thin legs. Six-packs and slender arms.

Then there’s me.

“If you could drop twenty pounds, you'd be perfect,” Matthew used to say to me.

My mom thought thirty was the magic number. And Crystal figured forty would make me even prettier than her. Not that she ever supported me in any of my endeavors to drop those pounds.

“You’re never going to look like me, so give it a rest,” she’d say. “Enjoy that coconut cake, honey. It’s what makes you happy.”

Not really. All it ever did was fill the void our father left behind when he died.

“What are you doing?” Dominic’s voice startles me. I was so deep in thought I didn’t even hear him coming.

“Nothing. Just admiring the view,” I reply, huddled under my shawl.

As I turn my head to look at him, I fear no amount of scruples will keep me from being swept off my feet. He’s shirtless, revealing his perfectly sculpted torso, broad shoulders, rippling pecs, and strong arms. Dark blue swimming trunks hang from his narrow hips, long linebacker legs kicking in the sand.

“How’s your suite?” I ask with a faint smile, struggling to meet his eyes.

Dominic seems to be aware of the impact he has on me, judging by the devilish smirk that stretches across his lips. “It’s nice and comfy,” he says. “Right next to yours.”

“Yes, I noticed.”

“Did you also notice the adjoining terraces?”

I turn to look. Indeed, our suites share the sprawling terrace. All it takes is a few steps from one set of French-style doors to another for my wildest dreams to come true, should I want that.

My heart skips a few beats.

“Nice, right?”

“Yes, very nice,” I mumble.

August and Theo come out of their suites, just as devastatingly handsome, chiseled, and simply irresistible.

“Not hating this, not one bit,” Theo declares.

“That says a lot. Among the three of us, Theo is the hardest to please when it comes to accommodations,” August says, grinning.

“So, you’re the pretentious one,” I reply with a chuckle, desperate to take some of the edge off. Yet every time one of them looks at me, the edge gets sharper. I’m in absolute paradise, and I don’t know how the hell I’m going to get through the next two weeks.

“I prefer the term discerning,” Theo says. “We worked hard to get to where we are. And while August and Dominic might settle for less, I think we deserve the cream of the crop wherever we go. We’ve earned it.”

“I don’t know. I would’ve been fine with just a nice, small hotel somewhere further down the coast,” I reply with a casual shrug. “Matthew wanted us to book this place. It was out of my price range, but I made it happen.”

“Didn’t your mother pitch in?” Dominic asks.

I shake my head. “My wedding, my responsibility. Matthew thought I was proud and stubborn, but he never understood the dynamic in my family. The last thing I want is to be in my mother’s debt.”

“A Baldwin, yet not too much of a Baldwin,” August says with a grin. “Fascinating.”

“At least you don’t think it’s sad like everybody else,” I chuckle.

“Sad? No. Not at all. I appreciate your desire to stand on your own despite having near-limitless financial resources available, should you agree to sell your soul.”