Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 132332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 441(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 441(@300wpm)
“Looks like all the swim lessons at Z and Lilly’s paid off.”
“Water memory,” he says. “I kinda wish we’d built a pool at the house now.”
“Wouldn’t that be difficult?”
He shrugs. “Anything can be done with money.”
“Hmm.” At least he’s smiling now, although the tightness in his shoulders suggests he hasn’t forgotten the ugly scene from this morning.
He slides a glance at me and one corner of his mouth curls up. “You look hot, by the way.”
I reach to adjust the slightly too-small bra top. “I feel like I’m popping out all over the place.”
“You are. And I like it.” He hooks an arm around my waist and yanks me closer, water sloshing all around us.
“Hey!” Alexa yells. “Momma, watch meeeee!”
Keeping me tight to his front, Blake turns me in his arms so I can see Alexa. “Don’t move,” he breathes against my ear.
The water’s warm but my body shivers. “Why?”
“Because what’s going on in my shorts isn’t family-friendly.”
Laughing, I bend over, bumping into him.
“Ow,” he growls. “Well, that helped.”
Laughing even harder, I swim away from him, taking Alexa’s hands and spinning her in a circle.
He crouches in the water, humming the Jaws theme, and approaches us slowly.
“Daddeee!” Alexa frowns, watching his stealthy movements. She flicks her concerned eyes my way. “Momma?”
“Daddy’s playing shark.”
She scowls, then mermaid flaps her feet, splashing water in Blake’s direction. He captures one ankle and drags her closer, careful to keep her above the water.
“Nooo!” she shrieks and laughs.
While they play, I skirt around them and lean against the edge of the pool, hooking my elbows over the side and lazily kicking my feet in the water.
On the opposite edge of the pool, a boy maybe nine- or ten-years old shoves a little girl in the water. She screams and thrashes around. I push off the edge of the pool but before I get far, a man scoops her out of the pool. “Why’d you do that to your sister?” he yells at the boy.
The boy gives him a smug smirk and runs away. A shrill whistle and a shout of “No running!” pierce the air.
Marcel never played those kinds of cruel big brother pranks on me when I was little. I felt safe whenever I was with him. Was he a natural-born protector? Or did he feel responsible for my safety because our parents were so lax? I touch my stomach, hoping Alexa will look out for her siblings and not resent them.
A hand tickles my hip under the water. Blake’s big body rises next to me, with Alexa on his shoulders.
“Yeeee!” She lifts both arms in the air like she’s finally living out all her mermaid fantasies.
Dripping water over my shoulders, Blake leans in and brushes his lips against my neck. “You all right?”
“Did you see that?” I lift my chin toward the dad and the drenched little girl who’s still crying.
“Yeah.” He lifts Alexa off his shoulders and dips her toes in and out of the water. “That dipstick dad should’ve been paying attention to his kids instead of trying to eye-fuck the teenage lifeguard.”
“Ewww.” I glance at the lifeguard station, but it’s empty now. No sign of the little boy.
Alexa’s quiet, swirling her fingers through the water while Blake holds onto her, keeping her afloat. “Are you hungry?” I ask my daughter.
“No.”
Blake and I share a look. Intuition says she’s not far from a meltdown. It’s been a long day with a lot of excitement.
I let out a loud yawn. “The chlorine’s making me sleepy.”
Alexa yawns with me and nods.
“Let’s dry off, change, and find some dinner,” I say in my most enthusiastic voice, even though I wasn’t lying. I’m suddenly exhausted.
“Yeah!”
Blake carries Alexa out of the pool, and I stop at our chairs to wrap her in a towel.
We head to our room, dripping and making squishy noises in our new flip-flops. After a quick rinse, I help Alexa into one of the outfits we bought and fix her hair. It’s gotten darker, closer to my color than Axel’s now. I’ve grown to love my hair color, but oh, how I used to wish it was lighter. Like Marcel’s.
No wonder he and I don’t look that much alike. It’s not unusual for siblings to have different hair or eye colors, but for some reason, it’s always bothered me that Marcel and I have such different features. I chalked it up to a desperate need to fit in somewhere, a longing to maintain family ties even though my parents abandoned me.
But maybe part of me always knew the truth?
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Murphy
After dinner, Alexa passed out and I had to carry her upstairs. Exhaustion tugs at me. Even though we turned today into something good, the ugliness of everything we left behind still hangs between us, waiting to be dissected.
We’re in the center of the king-sized bed, watching some comedy, but neither of us are really paying attention to what’s on the big-screen television.