“Still gets cool at night in the summer,” he says, eyeing me.
He’s right, but I’m committed to showing some leg right now. There’s a reason I borrowed Kylie’s shower to shave my legs before I left her place.
He seemed fascinated with them earlier, and I did get that weird date request from Paul—who is terrified of my brothers and doesn’t particularly like me. All from a little extra leg.
My hair is fixed now, since my shower. I even donned a little makeup. Not that he’s seemed to notice. Annnnd I’m back to feeling self-conscious. Not cool.
Maybe he should grow that beard back until I know how I feel about whatever he’s doing to me.
“You coming?” he asks.
Loaded question.
Usually, I skip right up to him, not the least bit intimidated. But now…totally intimidated.
He leads me out the lake-facing door, and I swallow as he tosses his arm around my shoulders before locking his door. He’s put his arm around me a thousand times. Never once has it felt like more than a friendly gesture.
His intentions are still friendly, but mine seem to be the ones obscured.
“So the face is better than the beard?” he asks, smiling down at me.
My knees actually go weak. Not kidding. It’s humiliating when I almost fall.
Benson quickly steadies me, looking around for a reason as to why I was seconds away from slamming head-first into the ground. “Ankle turned,” I lie, and he frowns as he looks back down at me.
“You hurt?”
I shake my head. “Just happens. No biggie.”
He nods, accepting the lie, and he guides me down the dock. My tee has a ‘Fear the Beard’ logo on it, just to really rub it in. Benson seems to notice it for the first time, laughing as he hops into the boat and helps me down.
“Of course that’s what you’d wear,” he says, smiling like it’s a good thing.
I try to ignore the way it feels when he grabs my waist this time, but I can’t. I shudder in his grip, but he doesn’t seem to notice. In fact, I think he’s blissfully unaware of my current status.
That’s utter hot mess status, in case you’re wondering.
He pulls us away, and he drives the distance across the lake to my aunt’s house. I’m all too happy to let him help me out, and he follows behind me.
My aunt walks out with a tray of cupcakes in her hands, beaming when she sees me. But when her eyes go over my shoulder to Benson, she drops the tray of cupcakes.
“Benson?” she gasps.
The cupcakes turn into ant food when they tumble around on the grass, and Benson smirks as he runs a nervous hand over the back of his neck.
“I can’t possibly look that different,” he grumbles.
“Oh yes. Oh, yes, you can,” she says while fanning herself with her hand.
The mosquitos will be out soon, so I walk off, abandoning them as I grab the unscented spray that works the best on me and spritz down. I notice my brothers glaring at me, and I smile wickedly at them.
My uncle would kill them if they touched me in front of him.
I even twirl my hair around my finger like an evil, glass-eyed dolly for good measure. Just wait until my next act of revenge on them. It’ll give me a reason to stay at Benson’s longer.
“You’re hiding from us,” Killian states flatly when he’s right in front of me.
“You idiots still need to fix my dock. And my bed. And I want my ceiling fan back too.”
“You cut off our beards, and you think we still owe you?” Hale asks, his eyes wide as he joins us. “You’re insane! My balls are still quivering.”
Their faces are clean shaven. I almost forgot what they looked like after all these years.
Two arms come around my waist, and I resist the urge to sigh as I lean back on Benson. My brothers glance at the contact, and as one, both their eyes narrow and settle on the man behind me.
“Everything okay over here?” Benson asks.
“You’re touching our sister,” Killian accuses.
“I’ve touched your sister numerous times before,” he points out.
“Yeah, but you didn’t look like you do now, barely bearded and all. And she didn’t get that dreamy look on her face before either,” Hale says calmly, but there’s an edge to his tone.
Apparently, Benson without a bushy beard is less scary to my brothers than Benson with a bushy beard. I can sort of understand that. Doesn’t make it suck less in this moment.
I actually feel the blush as it races over my body, and start praying it turns dark in two seconds, even though it’s still at least two or three hours until sunset.
“Dreamy look, huh?” Benson asks, sounding amused.
I refuse to turn and look at him. Instead, I give the death glare to my idiot brothers. Neither of them even glance at me to see it though, and they all stand a head over me, making it impossible to put my face in their line of vision even with the help of my tiptoes—that I’m pointlessly using. Short girl problems.
“What the hell is going on in your house?” Killian demands. “I thought you two were just friends.”
“We are,” Benson drawls, but he moves a little closer.
I practically feel the mockery in his tone.
“She’s our only sister,” they remind him.
“I’m aware.”
See? The few times I’ve considered dating, this has happened. It’s always mortifying and it usually terrifies any guy who even toys with the idea seeing me more than once.
“We don’t like guys who touch our sister,” Hale goes on, standing to his full, very tall height.
“You two are welcome to remove my hands from her,” Benson taunts.
They eye him, eye me, then eye where his hands rest across my middle. I bet they think of his spinning kick thingy, because I don’t see them lunging yet.
“We’ll be watching you,” Killian warns, pointing a finger at Benson before he moves to where the beer is resting in an ice chest.
I blow out a long breath, and Benson laughs behind me. “All these years I’ve had my hands on you, but I lose a chunk of my beard, so now they’re threatening me.”
I try to play it off, shrugging. “I’m surprised they haven’t threatened you sooner.”
I turn around, hoping I’m not fifty shades of red, and he grins down at me.
“Because I touch you?” he asks.
“And because I crash at your place from time to time,” I add, pressing against him a little more.
His eyes lock on mine, and I take in every beautiful inch of his face, admiring how much better it is to be this close without having a beard tickling me.
“Benson, did you bring them?” my uncle asks, interrupting our moment.
My eyes almost pop out of my head. Uncle Bill’s beard is still there, but it’s neatly trimmed, much shorter, and you can see his mouth now.
“See? He knew who I was,” Benson says, cocking an eyebrow at me.
“Actually,” Uncle Bill says, clearing his throat and grinning sheepishly. “I had to get Penny to help me find you. Didn’t realize that was you.”
Benson’s eyebrows go up, and I grin triumphantly as they walk off to do whatever.
“If he hurts you, you realize we’ll have to break both his legs.” Killian’s voice startles me, since I had no idea he was anywhere around.