A Perfect Storm

by Lori Foster

  But luck wasn’t with her today.

  “Soon as the guys are done talking, we’re all heading down,” Alani told her. “I think Chris wants to ski, and I wouldn’t mind cooling down with a swim.”

  Molly rinsed a glass and put it in the dishwasher. “I’ll be ready in just a minute.” She left the room.

  Priss stood. “I need to find the sunscreen. Trace gets apoplectic if I burn.”

  “I have some,” Alani told her.

  “You two go on.” Arizona had other interests than swimsuits and sunscreen. “I’ll wait for you outside.”

  “You just want in on the conversation out there,” Alani teased, but without any insult. “Go on then, and we’ll join you soon.”

  But when Arizona stepped out, the yard was empty. Frowning, she followed the sound of low voices over to the side yard—and overheard Dare and Spencer talking. Curiosity got the better of her, and she hoped to glean a few details about the offer.

  Wearing a half smile, she inched closer.

  “You shouldn’t fight it,” Dare said. “I can tell you from personal experience, it’s impossible once you’ve met the right one.”

  That didn’t sound at all work-related. Arizona started to interrupt, and then Spencer replied.

  “Unfortunately, I had to bury the one that was right for me, and I’m not looking for a replacement.”

  Arizona staggered back. Her heart dropped and her stomach cramped.

  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 gay 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.”

  Her shoulders stiffened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Oh, no you don’t. Don’t go looking all pugnacious and put out. You covered it well, but not well enough.” Sitting up cross-legged, he draped his forearms over his knees. “So you don’t like being pinned down? Big deal. Get over yourself already.”

  She had no idea what to say to that. Denials would be absurd and cowardly. She thrust up her chin. “I’m working on it.”

  “Yeah, so work on it with Spencer. You trust him, right?”

  Trust had nothing to do with it. Why had she ever wanted to talk to Chris anyway? “You are such a smart-ass.”

  “Only when I’m right.” He grinned, leaned forward and gave h
er shoulder a shove. “Admit it.”

  After she righted herself, Arizona glared at him. She wouldn’t admit a damn thing. Not yet, anyway. If he wanted admissions, he could go first. “I only wondered about Matt because I know Priss is fond of him.”

  “Oh.” He shrugged. “Yeah, well, he’s only a friend and this was a family thing, and if I’m touchy about it, that’s because everyone seems to think otherwise.”

  “That you two are…?”

  “Yeah.”

  “But you’re not…?”

  He rolled his eyes. “No, we’re not. I like being a bachelor.”

  “Yeah. I get that.”

  “Somehow I don’t think you do.” Going all serious and solemn, he tipped his head. “So…about Spencer?”

  Screw it. She needed his input. Trying to figure out the right words, she said, “What if a guy enjoyed kissing you and…stuff? Could you assume he wanted more?”

  Much arrested, Chris gave her a blank stare. “Of course he wants you.” Stretching out on his back once more, he folded his arms over his head. “You know that already.”

  Since he wasn’t looking at her, she stood and skinned off her shirt and shorts, then sat beside him again. “I’m talking about…more than sex.” When he groaned, Arizona slugged his arm. “Come on, Chris, stop making those ridiculous noises. I can’t talk about this with anyone else.”

  Dropping his arms, he half sat up—but fell back at the sight of her. “Jesus, girl. Give a man a shock, why don’t you?” His gaze moved all over her. He shook his head, and his voice dropped. “No wonder the guys are having fits.”

  Damn it, now she felt naked. “You’re gay!” And really, the suit was as plain as she could find, dark so nothing would show through, not overly skimpy…

  “Doesn’t make me blind.” He frowned at her. “You do realize you’re incredibly sexy, right?”

  “I don’t care about that!”

  “You’re awfully screechy today.” He eyed her critically. “So what’s the problem, anyway?”

  A deep breath didn’t alleviate the sense of desperation. She did not want this to be her last night with Spencer. “I need to know what I can do to make Spencer like me.”

  Tiredly, Chris said, “He already likes you.”

  Not enough to tolerate deception, to put up with her peculiarities, to keep her around beyond the time it took to “help” her. But she couldn’t say all that, not to Chris.

  He caught her chin and lifted her face. “Hey, what’s not to like, right?”

  Too many things to count—and that was the problem for her. She didn’t think she could change, not enough anyway. “You don’t have to sugarcoat things for me.”

  “Me?” he asked dramatically. “I’m honest, always.” Smiling, he smoothed back her hair. “And I’m telling you that you’re a nice person, not too pushy, totally loyal, and hot. Trust me. Spencer likes you plenty.”

  Avoiding his gaze, Arizona picked at a splinter of wood on the dock. “Is there anything I can do to make him…more than like me?”

  “I don’t know,” he said carefully, watching her. “How much more are we talking?”

  “Enough that he’d forgive…other things.” Before he could ask what other things, she drew a deep breath and forged on. “Enough that, even if he gets really peeved at me, he’ll still want to have sex.”

  “Yeah, well, that’d cover most guys. No worries there. Men let very little get in the way of physical pleasure.”

  “Damn it, Chris, I want him to care.”

  The teasing ended. “So it’s like that, huh?”

  God, she was afraid so. Truly afraid. She didn’t want to care about Spencer, but she couldn’t seem to help herself.

  She looked at Chris and nodded.

  His expression of sympathy had her fidgeting, and then he glanced up the hill. With a satisfied smile, he said, “I think what you’re doing is working just fine.”

  * * *

  SPENCER TOOK IN Chris’s amusement and Arizona’s guilt and he felt his blood boiling. What was she up to now?

  And where the hell had she gotten that swimsuit?

  More than anything, he wanted to stuff her back into her discarded shorts and T-shirt and haul her off somewhere, out of view of the others. He did not want everyone else seeing her. Sure, he trusted the other men, otherwise he wouldn’t even consider working with them.

  And he wouldn’t have allowed them to butt in on his relationship with her.

  They wanted him to commit to her.

  He knew Arizona deserved more.

  But his arguments about her age, her past, had sounded as hollow to him as they had to Dare and Trace and Jackson. In fact, Jackson had stalked off in annoyance, and Trace had given him a pitying look before walking away.

  Only Dare had remained, telling him what he already knew: that fighting his feelings was useless.

  Spencer had dissuaded him the only way he knew how, by bringing up his deceased wife.

  He’d no sooner said the words, than he wanted to see Arizona. He needed to hold her, to talk to her, to…what? Value what time he had left?

  Shit.

  Even knowing it was his bad mood driving him, he rocked the dock with his heavy footfalls. With silky menace, he asked, “Am I interrupting?”

  Laughing, Chris stood and stretched with a complete lack of concern. “You guys have selective memory about my sexuality whenever you choose to play caveman.” He shook his head. “It’s pretty hilarious.” He turned, went to the end of the dock and jumped in.

  Arizona chose to watch Chris instead of looking at Spencer. He stepped closer and only when his shadow fell over her, did she finally turn her face up to meet his gaze.

  God Almighty, she looked like temptation. The bright sunlight glinted in eyes so blue, they matched the clear sky, emphasizing the contrast to her naturally darker skin. As he stared down at her, she pulled away the band that held back the mass of her long hair. It fell free around her shoulders.

  It seemed impossible, but every minute around her made him want her more and in more ways. Physically, yes. He couldn’t look at her without getting a jones. But it was so much more than that.

  So much more than he could handle in a crowd.

  “The others will join us soon.” Spencer crouched down in front of her. Her gaze went to his bare chest, his abs, over his thighs. “I need to get in the water, honey.”

  She licked her lips. “You don’t want to wait a bit?”

  “I would have.” He eyed the swell of her breasts above the bra top. Could a woman be more stacked, more lush? He shook his head. “Seeing you in that suit changed things.”

  She touched a hand to his chest hair. “Okay.” Concern about the swim kept her from commenting on his obvious interest. “I guess I’m ready.”

  He knew he was. More than ready, in fact. Damn, but this wouldn’t be easy.

  She was nervous enough without his lust, which, considering the setting and circumstances, was inappropriate in the extreme. Doing his best to keep his attention on her face and off her body, Spencer said, “How about I get in first, and you can climb down the ladder next to me?”

  She lifted a hand to shield her eyes. “You’re going to dive in?”

  Pausing, he tried to figure the direction of her thoughts, but he just didn’t know. He went with the truth. “Probably.”

  Her small but proud shoulders squared. “Then I will, too.”

  Before today, he might have tried to talk her around. Not anymore. With every minute, he better understood her. The will that drove her was the same will that had allowed her to survive. Her pride was important to her, so that made it important to him, as well.

  Best to just get it over with.
>
  Dread of something was often worse than the actuality. Once she was in the water, held close to him, she’d be fine. She would realize there was nothing to fear, not with him nearby.

  She would trust him.

  Without another word, Spencer nodded, then stood, went to the end of the dock and dove in. Chris floated on his back, probably to give them privacy; he paid no attention to Spencer.

  Looking up at Arizona there on the edge of the dock, he waited.

  At this time of the day, the sun backlit her body, showing off every shapely curve as she folded her shirt and shorts and put them on a bench. As if preparing for battle, she came to the edge of the dock and stood with her feet apart, her arms loose at her sides, her hair cascading down around her shoulders and over her breasts.

  The black two-piece fit her to perfection, and kept his gaze riveted. He didn’t rush her, but neither could he take his eyes off her.

  When she heard the others chatting as they walked down toward the dock, she firmed her mouth, took three quick, deep breaths—and made a clean dive into the lake.

  * * *

  “MESS THIS UP, and I’ll kill you.”

  Quin tamped down his defiance in favor of survival. Not for a second did he doubt the truth of those words. He’d seen evil, plenty of times.

  This was something more. “She said she would be there tomorrow.”

  “She better be.”

  Knowing he’d done all he could, he licked his lips and tried to still the quaver in his voice. “Where is Joel?”

  “Forget Joel. We don’t need him.”

  Please, please don’t let Joel be gone for good. “He won’t be back?”

  “Maybe later, I don’t know.” He paced, saying almost as an afterthought, “You should be worried about your sister.”

  That jolted him. “I am. Very worried.”

  He smiled, and the smile turned into a laugh that quickly faded. He waved a hand. “She’s safe.”

  That sounded like the truth; Quin prayed it was so. But he just didn’t know. From one second to the next, lies mixed with reality, and madness overshadowed sanity.

  His stomach growled and cramped, and he pressed a fist to his guts.