A Perfect Storm
Page 103

 Lori Foster

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Whatever Dare said in return was lost on her. A ringing sounded in her ears. She’d known. She wasn’t stupid.
But hearing Spencer spell it out like that…well, that hurt.
So maybe she was pretty damn dumb after all. Why else would she have let herself get emotionally involved? Spencer hadn’t misled her. He’d been brutally honest every step of the way.
Praying the men wouldn’t hear her, she turned away. Disgust carried her halfway down the hill before she even realized where she was going.
Her jumbled thoughts kept her stomach pitching.
Tomorrow, she’d defy Spencer’s trust. She would sneak away and meet secretly with Quin.
For a guy like Spencer, that in itself would be a deal breaker, not that they’d had any sort of emotional deal. But…God, she wished they did.
Maybe, since he enjoyed having sex with her, she could convince him to…what? Keep sleeping with her?
Hadn’t Marla tried that trick? Why should she think she’d be any more successful?
Because she wouldn’t make demands. Yeah, so desperation drove her. She’d never really wanted anything, or anyone, the way she wanted Spencer Lark. He was worth fighting for.
Problem was, she didn’t know how to engage in that type of fight. She sure couldn’t pound him into agreement. And she already knew he disliked games and despised dishonesty.
What tools did that leave her?
She could let Spencer know that she wanted, needed, nothing in return. Just great sex. Just…his company on occasion. Maybe the casual arrangement would work for him.
No matter what, she had to try, because the alternative, never seeing him again, was far too crushing to consider.
* * *
ARIZONA FOUND CHRIS sprawled on the dock looking as lazy as the dogs when they sunned themselves. He’d obviously taken a dip in the lake; water beaded on his wide shoulders, dripped from his wet hair and left a small rivulet down the deep groove of his tanned back, all the way to his still-soaked shorts, which now drooped low on his hips. So low, in fact, that she saw a strip of paler skin that they usually covered.
“Stop staring.” Eyes still closed, voice languid, Chris added, “I’m starting to feel naked.”
“All but,” Arizona told him, and she sat down at his side. She thought about putting her feet into the lake, looked over the edge of the dock at that dark water, and shuddered.
“The vitals are properly covered.” He shifted a little, squinted one eye against the glare of the sun and resettled himself.
She’d never paid much attention before, but Chris looked good. Six-two, black hair, blue eyes, lean but muscular build. From what she knew of him, he spent as much time in the water as out of it.
At the sound of a fish jumping, she pulled her attention away from his body and instead looked at the lake. “You ever skinny-dip in there?”
Indolent amusement curled his mouth. “What do you think?”
“I bet you do.”
“Not so much now that Molly’s around.” Rolling to his back, he scratched his chest, put his arms over his head and let his legs sprawl.
She couldn’t help noticing that his shorts were a little low in the front, too. Odd that her intimate involvement with Spencer increased her awareness of other male…attributes.
Chris caught her peeking but didn’t comment on it. “What about you? Got the urge to commune with nature?”
“No.” Before she even considered getting in the water, she wanted Spencer with her. No matter what else happened, he’d promised her that much.
“Where’s everyone else? The guys still talking shop?”
“I guess.” Would Spencer join up with the others? Arizona just didn’t know. “Molly and Alani are changing into their suits, and Priss was going to put on sunscreen.”
“What about you?”
“I don’t burn easy.” And she had no intention of staying in the water any longer than it’d take to prove…what? That she wasn’t a chicken?
“Me, either.” A dragonfly buzzed close, and Chris watched it until it zipped away. He closed his eyes again, and it almost looked as if he dozed.
“Can you sleep in this heat?”
“When people aren’t talking to me, yeah.”
So she was bothering him? Well, tough. She needed some advice, and who better to ask than Chris?
If she tried talking to any of the guys, they’d either rat her out to Spencer, or they’d start issuing him warnings. She didn’t have a single doubt. It was like some macho, protective code they had. Buttheads.
And the wives…well, nice as they were to her, she felt almost dysfunctional around them. Other than being female, she had zip in common with them.
So that left Chris.
He groaned out a laugh. “Come on, Arizona. Spit it out.” Shielding his eyes with a forearm, he squinted toward her again. “You’re down here with me for a reason, right?”
After rolling a shoulder, she asked, “Where’s Matt?”
He gave her a long stare, then dropped the arm over his eyes and rested back again. “No idea.”
“He wasn’t invited?”
Exasperated, he half sat up to glare at her. “Why is it if you put two g*y guys in a room together, everyone assumes they’re a couple? I can have friends, you know.”
She blinked at him. Wow. What a reaction. “So…touchy much?”
In a priceless expression of bemusement, he huffed. “Not usually, no.” And then, turning the tables on her, he said, “But look who’s talking about being touchy.”