Page 28 of Wildest Dreams

I read over my list a few times, checking for anything I could have missed, until a quiet sound across the lake suddenly captures my attention. I lock my phone and place it next to the bottle on the floor, before taking a tentative step forward and looking to the other side of the lake.

My eyes roam across the small undulations, crystal clear ripples that burst into light when the sun catches them, until they finally reach the shore and my breathing halts in my chest.

Wearing shorts and a grey shirt, his tan skin glowing in the morning light, Tanner is quietly and methodically working out on the other side of the lake. I don’t know how many push-ups he’s done so far but when he reaches his next fifty I hear alow stifled grunt. His large back is strong and straight and his biceps pump relentlessly up and down, not stopping even after his next fifty, instead moving straight into one-armed reps. The thick cords protruding in his forearms are the only giveaway of any strain.

I want to lower myself to the wooden floor so that I can watch him in secret, but I decide that it’s better not to move, otherwise I might capture his attention.

I stand silent and still, eyes on the large muscles of his shoulders.

He does another fifty, this time with both palms pressed down, biceps bulging like crazy because his body mass is insane. When he finishes his last push-up he drops down onto his back, his broad chest heaving fast in the warm morning rays.

He throws one forearm over his eyes and drops his other hand to his shorts, giving himself a rough squeeze through the fabric before heavily rising to his feet. He shakes out his wrists as he kicks off his sneakers, stealthily making his way toward the lake’s golden edge. He’s as quiet as a wolf, his expression hard, deep in thought. The short sleeves of his shirt look as though they’re cutting painfully into his pumped biceps.

Realising how obvious my position up here is I begin to carefully move back a step, but Tanner’s head snaps up and his eyes lock in on my own.

I pause, eyes wide, as his own steps instantly halt.

He holds my eyes for a good five seconds before checking that there’s no-one else about. Then his eyes slide back up to mine and something dangerous flashes through them.

When his gaze slowly burns its way down my front I suddenly realise why.

“Oh no,” I breathe, fingers twitching at my sides because there’s no undoing what he’s looking at right now.

As in, he’s looking at me, looking at him, and I’m wearinghis freaking shirt.

I know that it was Tanner who left it for me, because everyone else walked back at the same time. Plus, it’s khaki, which is so Tanner it makes my heart ache.

I swallow hard and try to calm down my little palpitations.

It’s okay, I tell myself.Maybe he’ll do the gentlemanly thing and just not say anything.

“Nice shirt,” he calls out, jerking his chin at me.

His loud voice carries so well in the bright morning air.

Refusing to be bested, I walk dangerously close to the edge of the balcony, making him pause his steps, narrowing his eyes.

“Isn’t it?” I call back, lifting a shoulder on a dreamy sigh. “I’m guessing it’s Tristan’s.”

A smirk pulls up the corner of his mouth because he knows that I know who left it for me.

“I’ll bet,” he rumbles, resuming his trudge to the water’s edge, eyes on mine even as his feet begin slowly sinking into the water. I watch his face, trying to gauge if the water is cool or already warmed, but he maintains his stoic composure, only looking away from me once so that he can squint into the sun.

When his gaze reaches back for mine we watch each other in silence. His breathing is deep and heavy, large shoulders swelling in rhythmic waves.

After a moment, he reaches back and rips his shirt over his head, balling it in his fist and quickly slugging it to the gravel behind him. With his large body exposed he wades deeper into the water, eyes searching mine as he waits for a reaction.

Now it’s my turn to maintain my stoic composure.

On a deep inhale, he lowers his body beneath the lake’s surface, staying under for maybe ten seconds before breaking back into the sparkling light.

He shoves a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his handsome face, and then begins to swim silently from his side of the lake to mine.

When he reaches the dead centre he settles into a standing float. He gruffly jerks his chin at me as he resists the push of the waves.

“Join me,” he says quietly, keeping his voice low, for my ears only.

I give him a playful roll of my eyes which reads,Tanner, as if.

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