Page 26

Chapter 26

GAbrIEL

W e had a big group swim scheduled in the neighboring town over—at Gemini Lake. Open water swimming was vastly different from the chlorinated lanes of a pool. Many practiced swimmers got to the murky lake on race day, panicked when they couldn’t see the bottom, and kept veering off course because they hadn’t practiced sighting, or were forced under when other swimmers passed over them.

Even on race day, when you had people out on kayaks serving as unofficial lifeguards, you got the distinct feeling that your survival depended on your athletic ability, and that magnitude could break anyone.

Which is why Beck joined our group swim. It was our last chance before the relay. He’d agreed he needed the practice, but now, surveying the still lake, he looked less than pleased. “You’ll be fine,” I said, giving his back a slap.

Beck had to step forward to catch himself. He turned back and glared at me. “And we’re sure there aren’t crocodiles in there?”

“No, Beck. There aren’t crocodiles.” I walked away before he could see my widening smile. “Alligators, maybe. ”

“You’re fucking with me!”

I once had a client who worked at a reptile rescue. She told me alligators were so prevalent in our area that there was likely an alligator in every body of water larger than a ditch. I hadn’t had a restful open water swim since, but Beck was already on edge, so I let him believe it was a joke.

As we tugged on our wetsuits—an effort that always made me feel a tad claustrophobic—April joined us under the pavilion.

“Coach,” she said, plopping her duffle onto the picnic table. She wore an unreadable expression. We’d been having normal conversations over text, but I hadn’t seen or spoken to her since that day at the gym.

“That’s my good girl.”

I’d crossed a line. My own line that I drew with a permanent marker, and I couldn’t tell whether or not she was pissed with me, but she had every right to be.

I could do better. I would do better. I just had to hold my ground.

“April,” I tested and was pleasantly surprised when she didn’t give me an earful for teasing her at the gym. “This is Beck—our swimmer for the relay.”

Beck stood to shake her hand. “You must be the cyclist. Nice to meet you.”

“Beck?” April exclaimed. “As in Beck and Emily, Beck ?”

Beck laughed, then gave me a look. “Depends on what this guy told you.”

April’s smile was huge. I could almost see the Costa Rica story playing behind her eyes. “Oh, all good things,” she finally landed on, then changed the subject. “Do you do a lot of racing?”

“Not since high school,” he admitted .

“But he’s a strong swimmer,” I cut in, then regretted it because Beck smiled wickedly at my compliment. “We just have to get this city boy used to real water,” I said, slapping him between the shoulders again.

His glare was back, just as I preferred.

“Well, today should be some good practice,” April offered.

“You look familiar,” Beck said, head tilting.

“She’s the swimmer who got kicked in the face when we were volunteering.”

April’s lips pressed into a hard line while Beck’s eyes widened with recognition. “Oh, yeah.” He gave a sympathetic wince. “Guess that’s something to look forward to during the swim.”

“Only if you have my kind of luck,” she said bitterly before removing her T-shirt.

My gaze dropped to her breasts, and I started salivating. April had on a swimsuit, but it was sporty, which meant aerodynamic, which meant skin-tight. This one had no padding, and her nipples looked like they were fighting to be freed. I realized I’d made a grave mistake that night I’d had sex with her. I hadn’t tasted them.

Less than three minutes, and I was already losing my footing, ready to pole-vault over those boundaries I’d set.

April hiked an eyebrow. She didn’t look angry to catch me staring. She looked pleased with herself, which was much worse. I averted my gaze as she removed her shorts, not willing to subject myself to further suffering. Instead, I kept my eyes on the group gathering at the dock.

“Better get that wetsuit on quickly, Baird.” ?Dios mío! Cover that body.

“What’s the temperature?”

“Seventy-five.”

“Pssh. That’s barely wetsuit legal. I’ll pass.”

I snapped my attention to April, forcing my eyes to stay glued to her face. “You’re going to be cold,” I tried. “And you’ll want the extra buoyancy the wetsuit offers.”

“If I practice without the extra buoyancy, it will be that much better if I do use it on race day,” she countered, not completely wrong.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

She reached up to put her hair in a short ponytail, and her breasts were back to taunting me. “Absolutely.” She tugged on the ends of her hair to secure the ponytail further up, then strode down to the dock. “See you in the water.”

I told myself to look away, but then there was her perfect ass.

Goading her at the gym had been a fatal error. I’d played with fire, and now I was being burned alive.

I looked over and found Beck reading my face, a question in that crease between his brows.

“Come on,” I said before he could ask. “Gotta keep up with the group if you don’t want an alligator to pick you off.”