Chapter One

Bronwyn Carter was seeing it, but she was finding it hard to believe. Everywhere she looked were half-naked hunks, each one yummier than the previous one. She stepped backward out of the doorway and checked the writing on the glass door.

No, she hadn’t walked into a male change room by mistake. The sign Blu-Tacked to the glass door clearly said “Life Guard Training. Lesson One”.

Life Guard Training. That was where she should be. She needed a summer job really badly and didn’t want to work stacking shelves in a store or waiting tables. She liked swimming so had decided being a life guard at a community swimming pool would be a much better way to spend her summer. What could be bad about long, lazy days in the sunshine watching kids splash and play in the water? Besides, she’d already done a lifesaving course when she was a teenager. It’d been offered free as part of a summer program the year she turned fifteen. Although, back then most of the people taking the course had been giggling girls, not bronzed eye candy like what was here today.

Bron hitched her swimming bag higher up on her shoulder and walked to the bleachers and sat down. She was wearing shorts and a T-shirt and looked overdressed compared to the men. She finally noticed two other girls though, both wearing string bikinis. Shit, she was going to look really pudgy in her one-piece swimming suit or ridiculously prim if she swam in her clothes. Why didn’t I think about how I’d look in front of all these gorgeous bodies before I signed up for this job?

The giant clock on the wall showed only five minutes before the lesson started. Swim in her clothes or look fat? There really wasn’t much choice. No one else was wearing shorts and a shirt. She slipped her feet out of her sandals, wiggled her butt and slid her shorts down, then shrugged out of her shirt. Rolling her clothing up, she shoved everything in the top of her bag. Then she climbed down the bleachers and stood on the fringes of the group.

Two, five, six, eight, twelve. Twelve men and three women including me. How could this happen?

“Okay people, listen up.” A muscular woman walked through the door dragging a huge plastic crate filled with floatation devices.

Bronwyn turned to face her as did most people. A couple of the men were still talking among themselves until the woman cleared her throat and then stared at them. One of the guys actually blushed. Bron hid a grin.

“I don’t care what paperwork you submitted. I need to see for myself that you can all swim properly. Line up along the edge of the pool now.” Bron walked over with all the others and stood in line.

“When I blow the whistle, dive in and swim four lengths of the pool. Then climb out and come to me.”

Bron stepped up onto the narrow tile lip of the pool, wishing for a diving board or a starting block at the very least. The whistle shrilled and she dived. She concentrated on using her most professional strokes as she plowed her way through the water to the end, did a tumble turn, and started back. Her style might not be perfect, but she knew she could easily swim four lengths. This wasn’t an Olympic size pool, more like half-Olympic size, so she could likely do ten laps if she had to, as long as she could choose which stroke she used to swim. Unless the trainer specified butterfly stroke. Then she’d be shit out of luck.

After four laps, she pulled herself up onto the edge of the pool, squeezed the water out of her hair, and walked across to the trainer. Five of the men were already waiting in line and the trainer was taking their names.

Next they were divided into two teams at opposite ends of the pool, and the people at one end had to “rescue” a person from the other end and tow them back. Then they repeated it with the rescuer becoming the rescued victim. The other two girls partnered each other, and Bron had a momentary fear no one would rescue her. There were an odd number of people after all. Except she hadn’t noticed until then that one of the men had been rejected from the class, or had chosen to quit already, so everyone, including her, had a partner.

By the end of this test another man had been sent out of the water. Bron was forced to realize this wasn’t all fun and games. The trainer was taking it very seriously. Bron had thought it’d be a pretty easy class, mostly doing things she already knew how to do. But now she understood the trainer was going to make them work hard for their certification. Well, that was okay. She certainly didn’t want to risk someone almost drowning when she was on the job.

For the third section of the class they were told to form into groups of three. Bron looked for the other two women, but before she could move two men surrounded her. Two big, amazingly handsome men. She licked her lips and stared up into the deepest blue eyes she’d ever seen, and then into eyes like rich dark chocolate. She had to swallow hard before she could even reply to their friendly greeting. “Hi there.” Her voice croaked and she blushed, wondering if they’d think she was stupid.

They were both way taller than her own five seven, and looked tanned, fit and totally delicious.

“I’m Jacob,” said the one with blue eyes and light-brown hair, smiling at her.

“Ross,” said the dark-haired, dark-eyed one.

“Bronwyn.” Her voice sounded high and breathless, but then again she was feeling breathless. She could drown in their eyes. Damn, they were delicious and she was feeling like such a star-struck idiot right now. Fortunately the trainer started giving them orders, and they were soon demonstrating how to rescue each other in various circumstances. When she was the one floating with their hands on her hips, all she could think of was wishing they could touch her in a few other places.

It was almost a relief to get out of the pool at the end of the lesson. She rushed to cover her pudgy belly and thighs with her towel, but her gaze followed Jacob and Ross, even as she listened to the trainer’s instructions. Next week’s lesson would involve rescuing someone when they were fully dressed and the trainer gave them all strict instructions about what to wear.

The two other women, still wearing nothing but their tiny bikinis, were surrounded by a group of the men as they made their way to the coffee shop section of the swimming complex.

Ross was suddenly beside Bron holding out his hand. “Come and have coffee with us?” he asked.

“Please.” Jacob was right behind him.

She nodded, but tied her towel under her armpits so it hid the worst of her bulges.

Most of the class was at the kiosk, many of the men eating burgers and pies and french fries. Bron sipped her coffee, strenuously resisting the urge to eat. Ten weeks in her swimwear would expose her body to these amazingly handsome men way too much. She’d never even thought about who’d be in class with her. Usually at a swimming center there was such a range of people of all ages, shapes, and sizes that she didn’t feel embarrassed about the extra pounds stuck to her hips, belly, and thighs. But in among this group, where everyone else’s body was sculptured perfection, her inadequacies were really obvious.

At first, everyone talked at once, people asking questions and calling out comments from table to table. Some of the people in the group already knew each other, others were introducing themselves. Everyone was relaxing after the stress and tension of class. Not that it had been particularly difficult, but two people had already been culled from the group. Or perhaps they’d chosen to leave. Likely it wasn’t what they’d expected. Either way, there were thirteen of them now instead of fifteen.

“What are you thinking?” Ross asked.

Bronwyn jumped, startled. “Thirteen.” She blurted the word out without stopping to censor her thoughts.

“What?” Jacob and Ross both started at her.

“I’m sorry. I’m a math geek. There were fifteen of us at the start of the lesson and now there are thirteen. What used to be called a baker’s dozen.”

The men were staring at her blankly and Bron raced on, wishing she’d never spoken in the first place but knowing she had to finish her thoughts now. “When someone asked for a dozen bread rolls or a dozen muffins at a bakery, the baker used to give them thirteen. The twelve they’d asked for and one for good luck. It originated in the thirteenth century. Back then a baker could have a hand cut off for shortchanging customers, so they always gave thirteen little loaves of bread when asked for twelve as insurance against getting in trouble. Later it became more a mark of generosity.”

“A hand cut off. Ouch! That’s pretty drastic. No wonder they’d deliberately give extra,” said Ross.

“What other fascinating trivia do you know about numbers?” asked Jacob, resting his hand on hers on the table.

Bron looked down at his hand so tan and large over her whiter fingers. “The word Google was actually a

typo. It was supposed to be googol, which is the number one followed by one hundred zeros. Now tell me something about yourself?”

Gently she withdrew her hand from his. She needed to concentrate. She already sounded like some kind of an idiot. Being blonde was a real problem at times, and she didn’t need to be thought of as the typical caricature of a blonde airhead as well.

“Some of us guys play soccer with the local team in winter. Our coach told us we had to do some training over summer and a couple of the guys decided to do this course. I work for my father and he expects me to work over summer. I’d thought that would be enough exercise, but the idea of being a life guard sounded better, so Ross and I decided to give this a go. Now we’ve met you here, we’re very glad we did,” Jacob said, moving his bare foot so his toes were stroking up and down her leg.

Oh my God that felt sexy. It was damn lucky she was sitting on a towel because her cunt was dripping cream from his touch. Her nipples were hard little peaks and her belly clenched with need.

Bron stared at Ross’s lips. They were pink and looked delicious. His jaw was square and his nose straight. Along with those dark eyes he was definitely a walking talking wet dream. She pulled her thoughts away from his good looks and said, “What about you, Ross? What do you do?”

“I’d rather talk about you. What does a math geek do by day? Are you an accountant?”

“I’m still at college. It’s taking me a very long time to get my degree, because I work in a school as a teacher’s aide during the school year and only have time to do a couple subjects a semester.”

“So shouldn’t you be doing summer school now to expedite your course?” asked Jacob.

“It’s a real nuisance. I’ve taken too many classes out of order and there’s only one subject I can take this summer that I haven’t already done. Since school will be out, I thought being a life guard might be fun.”

“Something will definitely be fun. Will you come out to dinner with us tonight? Do you like teppanyaki?” asked Jacob.

“I haven’t ever been to a Japanese steakhouse but I’ve heard about them.”