white sand. Though like hers, his eyes were hidden behind sunglasses, she felt their silver heat hit her bare skin, raising the temperature of the air around her.
He started to take a step in their direction, but Chris caught his arm, gesturing to the volleyball game being played down the beach.
"I don't get how he does it," Julie said, stifling a little yawn behind her hand. "He already got up and swam like a hundred laps, now he's playing volleyball. I'm wiped out, and I've only been up for an hour and a half."
"Yeah, but you've been getting up in the middle of the night every night for a year," Wendy said absently, her eyes still locked on the broad lines of Drew's retreating back.
Julie must have noticed the direction of her gaze and the tension in her mouth. "You don't like him, do you?"
"Of course I do! I love Chris!”. Wendy said, playing dumb.
"Not Chris, Drew," Julie said. "You didn't like him from the beginning and now...." Her voice trailed off. "I know he works with Alan, and I'm sorry if having you makes you uncomfortable."
"Don't worry, it's no big deal," Wendy said, glad her sunglasses hid the direction of her stare as she watched Drew strip off his t-shirt and join the game.
Jesus, she was going to start drooling if she wasn't careful. She tore her gaze away from the visual orgy of tan skin and rippling muscle as Drew leaped in the air to spike a ball.
She realized Julie's lips were moving and words were coming out. She forced her attention back to her friend and caught the tail end of whatever she was saying. "...can't help but wonder if that's why you left the party last night."
It took Wendy a couple beats to catch up. "Because of Drew? No way!" Lie! But not for the reasons you think!
"You'd tell me if you did, right? I know you've been going through a rough time, and I really wanted you to enjoy yourself this weekend."
Wendy heard the catch in Julie's voice and couldn't stifle her smile. Julie had always had a huge, soft heart, but since becoming a mother she'd started tearing up at the drop of a hat. When Julie had visited her in San Francisco when Mathilda was four months old, Julie had started sobbing over how beautifully the dew sparkled on Crissy Field one sunny morning as they went for a walk.
And, okay, Wendy's throat was a little tight, but it had been awhile since she'd had anyone really looking after her feelings. She reached over and gave Julie's hand a little squeeze. "Jules, in case you've forgotten, this weekend is supposed to be about you and Chris and five years of wedded bliss. Even if I was uncomfortable—which I'm not"— as long as I don't count the screaming muscles of my inner thighs or the general tenderness of my lady parts— "my job as your friend is to suck it up and have a good time and never let you be the wiser. I love you, Jules. This is your weekend. Don't worry about me."
"Thanks," Julie said with a watery sniffle. "I think after being in this business so long I've forgotten sometimes I'm allowed to have a good time and be the star of my party."
"That's right, princess," Wendy snickered.
"Speaking of wedded bliss," Julie said, settling deeper into the padded lounger, "you never answered my question. Are you seeing anyone?”
"Not really," Wendy replied, her gaze drifting back down the beach where the volleyball net was set up. Eight of the male guests had divided up into two teams and were flinging themselves around the sand with varying levels of skill.
Drew and Chris were the most skilled by far. And also the fittest. At the age where most men let their workout regime slide in favor of more time behind the desk, those two were in their prime, muscles rippling under smooth, sun-bronzed skin.
With Chris it made sense, living where he did, spending so much time outdoors. Plus, it was part of the brand for both Holley Cay and Watermelon Cay. Somehow Wendy didn't think the ad campaigns featuring Chris would be as successful if he was a fat slob.
But
He started to take a step in their direction, but Chris caught his arm, gesturing to the volleyball game being played down the beach.
"I don't get how he does it," Julie said, stifling a little yawn behind her hand. "He already got up and swam like a hundred laps, now he's playing volleyball. I'm wiped out, and I've only been up for an hour and a half."
"Yeah, but you've been getting up in the middle of the night every night for a year," Wendy said absently, her eyes still locked on the broad lines of Drew's retreating back.
Julie must have noticed the direction of her gaze and the tension in her mouth. "You don't like him, do you?"
"Of course I do! I love Chris!”. Wendy said, playing dumb.
"Not Chris, Drew," Julie said. "You didn't like him from the beginning and now...." Her voice trailed off. "I know he works with Alan, and I'm sorry if having you makes you uncomfortable."
"Don't worry, it's no big deal," Wendy said, glad her sunglasses hid the direction of her stare as she watched Drew strip off his t-shirt and join the game.
Jesus, she was going to start drooling if she wasn't careful. She tore her gaze away from the visual orgy of tan skin and rippling muscle as Drew leaped in the air to spike a ball.
She realized Julie's lips were moving and words were coming out. She forced her attention back to her friend and caught the tail end of whatever she was saying. "...can't help but wonder if that's why you left the party last night."
It took Wendy a couple beats to catch up. "Because of Drew? No way!" Lie! But not for the reasons you think!
"You'd tell me if you did, right? I know you've been going through a rough time, and I really wanted you to enjoy yourself this weekend."
Wendy heard the catch in Julie's voice and couldn't stifle her smile. Julie had always had a huge, soft heart, but since becoming a mother she'd started tearing up at the drop of a hat. When Julie had visited her in San Francisco when Mathilda was four months old, Julie had started sobbing over how beautifully the dew sparkled on Crissy Field one sunny morning as they went for a walk.
And, okay, Wendy's throat was a little tight, but it had been awhile since she'd had anyone really looking after her feelings. She reached over and gave Julie's hand a little squeeze. "Jules, in case you've forgotten, this weekend is supposed to be about you and Chris and five years of wedded bliss. Even if I was uncomfortable—which I'm not"— as long as I don't count the screaming muscles of my inner thighs or the general tenderness of my lady parts— "my job as your friend is to suck it up and have a good time and never let you be the wiser. I love you, Jules. This is your weekend. Don't worry about me."
"Thanks," Julie said with a watery sniffle. "I think after being in this business so long I've forgotten sometimes I'm allowed to have a good time and be the star of my party."
"That's right, princess," Wendy snickered.
"Speaking of wedded bliss," Julie said, settling deeper into the padded lounger, "you never answered my question. Are you seeing anyone?”
"Not really," Wendy replied, her gaze drifting back down the beach where the volleyball net was set up. Eight of the male guests had divided up into two teams and were flinging themselves around the sand with varying levels of skill.
Drew and Chris were the most skilled by far. And also the fittest. At the age where most men let their workout regime slide in favor of more time behind the desk, those two were in their prime, muscles rippling under smooth, sun-bronzed skin.
With Chris it made sense, living where he did, spending so much time outdoors. Plus, it was part of the brand for both Holley Cay and Watermelon Cay. Somehow Wendy didn't think the ad campaigns featuring Chris would be as successful if he was a fat slob.
But
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