Read Online True Divide by Liora Blake - Free Book Online

his hands drop to his pants and he unbuttons them. Once his fingers hit the zipper and I realize what is bound to happen next, I actually throw my hands up to cover my eyes.
    â€œOh my God. What are you doing?”
    Jake laughs loudly. A sharp, barking, taunting laugh. “I’m getting in the hot spring.”
    I hear him slipping his boots off and the shuffle of his pants coming down his legs. He chuckles again.
    â€œCan’t believe you went and got all blushing bride on me, Lacey. Just a quick refresher: we’ve seen each other naked before.”
    I turn around in place until I’m facing the opposite direction. Ensuring that if I accidentally, inadvertently, or crazily decide to peek through my fingers, all I’ll get to see is a hillside covered in snow-dusted sage grasses. Considering the concept of taking Jake to bed was easier at the bar, be it that we were in public, but here in this dark private place, all that crap feels too real. Too doable .
    Behind me, there is the sound of water moving as Jake sucks in a quick breath, reacting to the heat of the water.
    â€œYou can turn around now, lest your delicate eyes take in any of my man parts. Do I have to turn around while you strip down? Not my first choice, but I’ll do it.”
    Spinning around, I pull my hands to my hips, and then point directly at him. “No way. You’re on your own in there. I’ll sit right here on this boulder while you float around like a merman.”
    â€œLacey. Get in.”
    I move to perch on the boulder, then cross my arms over my chest. Jake had been crouching in the water, but he stands up straight and moves a few feet forward.
    Jesus. Perhaps it’s the infinitely flattering light of the moon, but the man came home built like an athlete. Of the lean, mean, rugged variety. Where he was once a skinny skater boy, he’s nothing but ropes of muscles now. Taut biceps and defined pecs, long ab muscles and flat ridges from there down, where his lower half disappears into dark water. What was he doing this whole time? Running an underground fight club? Playing rugby? Maybe a few years in the NHL?
    Really, would it be too much to ask of him to be a pudgy, bloated, early-balding mess? Couldn’t he have shown up with a beer belly and a double chin? Maybe missing a few of his front teeth? Anything that might inspire me to think: Whew. Jake Holt. Dodged a bullet on that one. The kind of reaction I would have if I hadn’t seen Dusty for ten years. A once–golden boy who now looks like he’s spent every day since graduation eating doughnuts and drinking beer, all while working hard to maintain a near-constant sunburn on his burgeoning bald spot.
    Nope. Jake Holt had to roll into town looking so good it makes my eyes itch.
    â€œI’ll come up there and toss your ass in here. I’ve done it before.” Jake takes another step, and I scramble off the boulder.
    â€œDon’t even think about it.”
    â€œThen take a swig of that tequila and get in.”
    I slump my shoulders and let my head fall back. Jake says my name, using a singsong voice that means he’s testing me. Letting out a heavy sigh, I follow it with a growl. “Turn around. I’m not built like I was ten years ago.”
    â€œThat’s for damn sure.”
    Cringing, I let the fury stoke up for a split second. Wherever he’s been, he didn’t pick up any mad skills in the help-a-girl-feel-some-acceptance-of-her-body department. I itemize my wins from earlier in the night, hoping that will help.
    Jake follows the insult with a strange-sounding groan. “You went and got yourself some fucking sexy curves in the last ten years, honey.”
    I clench my jaw and take a deep breath.
    Curves.
    Read: chubby.
    Snorting, I curl my hands into fists and return my head to an upright position. Jake must note the indignation in my body language and knits up his forehead.