An Ounce of Hope (A Pound of Flesh #2)

“They’re arguin’ about floats and damn float fasteners,” Ruby said with an eye roll. “We may never see them again.” The red of Ruby’s two-piece made her gray eyes pop, with not a muffin top in sight.

Grace glanced down at herself, suddenly conscious of the lush bodies around her. The swimsuit she was wearing was a yellow one-piece, a color that had always suited her. Yellow brought out the dark, warm tones of her skin, her momma had said. She’d bought her new swimsuit in haste two days before the trip to the cabin and hadn’t tried it on until it was too late to take it back.

The legs were cut high, showing a couple of the scars on her hip, while the back was low, showing glimpses of the scars on her side. That’s why she’d thrown on a thin white T-shirt she’d found crumpled on top of Max’s bag. She hoped he didn’t mind her borrowing his clothes, but the thought of walking around just in her suit dried her throat.

The T-shirt slipped down one shoulder and she’d tied it in a loose knot at her hip, leaving a small sliver of the lower half of her swimsuit showing. She’d never worn so little around other people, and outside to boot. Months ago, she’d never have dreamed of being so daring. She remembered wearing a bikini in her backyard one burning summer day. Rick had come home high and pissed and had beaten her with his shoe when he found her. He’d called her a whore because who knows who could have seen her flashing her slutty ass all over the place.

Their yard was private. No one had seen. But Rick’s paranoia was a devastating thing.

“Maybe I should change?” she murmured suddenly, reaching for the shades on her head. Ruby’s hand on hers was as surprising as it was a relief.

“No. Don’t. You look incredible.”

“You sure do,” Carla added. “Girl, if I had legs like yours, I’d wear that outfit all the time.”

Okay, so maybe this chick wasn’t too bad, even if she did have a full face of makeup in one-hundred-degree heat. As long as she kept her eyes off Max, Grace would get along with her juuuuust fine. Her sudden possessiveness over Max was neither surprising nor worrying. It was in her nature. She’d always been that way with family, friends, boyfriends . . .

Grace looked out over the water at the sound of Vince’s voice in the middle of the lake. She immediately spotted Max, shades still in place, shirtless and wet from the water, grinning at Buck as he tried to get the float to stay in place. Good God the man was dangerous. He truly was a vision. Unshaven, board shorts low, his lean runner’s body kissed by the sun. Grace wanted to kiss him. She wanted to kiss him all over. She imagined he’d taste divine, if the smells he left in the shower were anything to go by.

“Beer?” Ruby asked, holding a bottle of Heineken up to Grace’s nose.

Grace glanced at her watch. It was eleven thirty. “Sure. Why not? It’s five o’clock somewhere, right?”

“That’s what we like,” Max’s aunt Fern commented as she approached wearing a bikini top and sarong, carrying what looked like a tray full of homemade Popsicles and Jell-O shots. There was no way there wasn’t any alcohol in those bad boys. Things were going to get messy, and fast.

“That float looks like a damned house,” Grace observed, sipping her beer and placing her bag on one of the loungers. The float was huge and could hold at least ten people. It was like a floating deck, complete with steps into the water.

“It’s great, right?” Aunt Fern replied. “Vince and I bought that a few years ago. It’s the envy of the lake, you know?”

Ruby snorted and shook her head at the same time an almighty splash echoed around the water. Five men, arms flying in the front crawl, shot toward the shore. Ruby screamed and yelled for her husband while Carla, her blonde hair shining in the sun, called out Buck’s name. Carla’s friend—Anna? Ada?—smiled.

“Hey, Adele,” Carla called over her shoulder to the brown-haired woman.

That’s right. Adele.

“Looks like your man’s in the lead.”

“Shut up,” Adele retorted, closing her large hazel eyes and lying back on her lounger, her flat stomach unblemished and toned in her blue two-piece. “It was one lousy kiss. It’s not like I slept with the guy.”

Grace frowned at Ruby in question, who mouthed, “Caleb.” Ah. Clearly, there’d been some shenanigans after she and Max had gone to bed. Interesting.

Max strode from the water, ribbing Buck about kicking his ass in the water again and pushing his black hair back from his forehead. His whole body shifted in a way that Grace had only ever seen on predator nature programs. Like a wildcat or something, he was all sinewy and sensual. Christ. She pressed her beer bottle to her cheek; the sun was already getting to her and her libido. What was it about the summer that had everyone’s lustometer on high alert?

Max smirked as he approached. “You made it. Did you get some food?” He cocked an eyebrow at her clothing and lifted the hem of the T-shirt to her ribs. “This looks familiar.”