to get her second foot free and balance, he was there, strong arm holding her. Then his other arm came around her and he scooped her off her feet.
Jeez, overkill rescue. She opened her mouth to tell him she was fine, for heaven’s sake, when she found herself sailing through the air.
Splash .
“Oh.” She staggered to her feet, sputtering. “ Oh, you are so going to pay for that. ‘We’re even, ’ he says.”
Without thinking, she rushed him as if he were one of her brothers and splashed with skill born of plenty of practice, until he waded in farther to avoid the assault. Just a little farther, a little farther...
Perfect. She gathered herself and leaped, catching him off balance.
Splash.
His turn!
He gave a shout and struggled up, sunglasses knocked askew, and lunged for her. Ha! Amateur. She was already out of reach.
“You are good, Allie.”
“Five younger brothers.”
“Five!” He shook his head admiringly. “Erik did not train me as well as they trained you.”
“Are we even now? ” She held out her hand.
“Even.” He took it and shook. “Though I am sooo tempted right now to—”
“Don’t you dare.”
He held her hand longer than was necessary, gave it a slight tug so she had to step toward him. “I like the tomboy in you, Allie MacDonald. It brings out...well, it’s great.”
“You’re going to give me a swelled head, Jonas Meyer.”
“I’ll take that chance.” He squeezed her hand, and swam back toward the house as if he said that kind of stuff to women every day.
Maybe he did.
But much too quickly, she was starting to want him to say those things only to her.
5
S ANDRA EMERGED FROM her bedroom and headed for the stairs, smiling wryly. What kind of interesting new complications would crop up today? How did Erik spend the night? How would he react to Jonas and Allie this morning? Would he graciously bow out of the game or continue fighting for his uninterested lady? Sandra hoped he’d have the sense to do the former. A lot less messy all around. Erik hadn’t hung around long after Jonas and Allie burst in, but long enough for Sandra to see his pain. It was tough to feel betrayed by people you loved. She knew what that was like.
At the same time, Erik was denser than lead if he still thought he had a chance with Allie.
As for Sandra, she’d be fine. She was always fine. Life’s speed bumps—in her case molded by her own poor choices—might slow her down, but they never stopped her. Jonas wasn’t in love with her, would never be in love with her, and she probably never would have been truly in love with him. Darn it. He had it all—looks, money, sex appeal, money, charm, money, intelligence, money... She’d taken care of herself since she left her rebellious mistake of a marriage at age twenty-two, after sticking with it for five miserable years, mostly out of stubborn pride. The subsequent decision to live her life doing what she loved, even if it paid garbage, had been hers and hers alone, and she’d made it understanding the consequences. Unless she managed to marry rich, no cushy retirement in a tropical resort for her.
At the bottom of the stairs, her smile widened. She resisted the urge to rub her hands together and cackle. Who would be up this morning and what would the atmosphere be like in this very promising soap opera? It was ten-thirty. Jonas had most likely been awake for hours already. She didn’t know Erik’s and Allie’s schedules.
A glance into the kitchen showed Erik, alone, surrounded by white and stainless steel that reminded her of her mother’s taste. So cold, so uninviting, in spite of the wonderful cinnamon smell. Her dream kitchen would be all bright colors and cheerful pictures and cartoons on the refrigerator.
She smiled at Erik, slumped over a cup of coffee at the generous kitchen island, hair endearingly mussed. Tsk-tsk, somebody hadn’t slept well. “Well, hello, Erik. I see you’re a bright-eyed early bird like
Jeez, overkill rescue. She opened her mouth to tell him she was fine, for heaven’s sake, when she found herself sailing through the air.
Splash .
“Oh.” She staggered to her feet, sputtering. “ Oh, you are so going to pay for that. ‘We’re even, ’ he says.”
Without thinking, she rushed him as if he were one of her brothers and splashed with skill born of plenty of practice, until he waded in farther to avoid the assault. Just a little farther, a little farther...
Perfect. She gathered herself and leaped, catching him off balance.
Splash.
His turn!
He gave a shout and struggled up, sunglasses knocked askew, and lunged for her. Ha! Amateur. She was already out of reach.
“You are good, Allie.”
“Five younger brothers.”
“Five!” He shook his head admiringly. “Erik did not train me as well as they trained you.”
“Are we even now? ” She held out her hand.
“Even.” He took it and shook. “Though I am sooo tempted right now to—”
“Don’t you dare.”
He held her hand longer than was necessary, gave it a slight tug so she had to step toward him. “I like the tomboy in you, Allie MacDonald. It brings out...well, it’s great.”
“You’re going to give me a swelled head, Jonas Meyer.”
“I’ll take that chance.” He squeezed her hand, and swam back toward the house as if he said that kind of stuff to women every day.
Maybe he did.
But much too quickly, she was starting to want him to say those things only to her.
5
S ANDRA EMERGED FROM her bedroom and headed for the stairs, smiling wryly. What kind of interesting new complications would crop up today? How did Erik spend the night? How would he react to Jonas and Allie this morning? Would he graciously bow out of the game or continue fighting for his uninterested lady? Sandra hoped he’d have the sense to do the former. A lot less messy all around. Erik hadn’t hung around long after Jonas and Allie burst in, but long enough for Sandra to see his pain. It was tough to feel betrayed by people you loved. She knew what that was like.
At the same time, Erik was denser than lead if he still thought he had a chance with Allie.
As for Sandra, she’d be fine. She was always fine. Life’s speed bumps—in her case molded by her own poor choices—might slow her down, but they never stopped her. Jonas wasn’t in love with her, would never be in love with her, and she probably never would have been truly in love with him. Darn it. He had it all—looks, money, sex appeal, money, charm, money, intelligence, money... She’d taken care of herself since she left her rebellious mistake of a marriage at age twenty-two, after sticking with it for five miserable years, mostly out of stubborn pride. The subsequent decision to live her life doing what she loved, even if it paid garbage, had been hers and hers alone, and she’d made it understanding the consequences. Unless she managed to marry rich, no cushy retirement in a tropical resort for her.
At the bottom of the stairs, her smile widened. She resisted the urge to rub her hands together and cackle. Who would be up this morning and what would the atmosphere be like in this very promising soap opera? It was ten-thirty. Jonas had most likely been awake for hours already. She didn’t know Erik’s and Allie’s schedules.
A glance into the kitchen showed Erik, alone, surrounded by white and stainless steel that reminded her of her mother’s taste. So cold, so uninviting, in spite of the wonderful cinnamon smell. Her dream kitchen would be all bright colors and cheerful pictures and cartoons on the refrigerator.
She smiled at Erik, slumped over a cup of coffee at the generous kitchen island, hair endearingly mussed. Tsk-tsk, somebody hadn’t slept well. “Well, hello, Erik. I see you’re a bright-eyed early bird like
Similar Books
