Page 7 of Taking Denver

My attention snaps to the neighboring patio door. It opens, and I freeze in place as Denver Luxe appears.

Chapter 3

Ethan

Denver gets on her hands and knees, shining her phone torch and swiping her palm across the terracotta tiles. She sits back and groans, shaking her hands in what looks like panic.

When she spots me, she screams. “Jesus Christ! What are youdoing?”

What am I doing? Skinny dipping and spying, apparently. I should ignore her and go inside, but I’m curious, and lying alone in a dark room isn’t very tempting right now.

“Relaxing. What areyoudoing?”

She frowns at me. “I lost my ring.”

“Your wedding ring?” I raise my eyebrows, hoping she picks up on the edge in my voice.

“No, jackass, my other ring,” she says, running her hands along the patio floor again. “The ring my mom gave me, myfavoritering.”

I disregard the fact that she’s just called me a jackass for no reason but only because she seems genuinely upset.

“Where did you last have it?” I ask.

“If I knew that, it wouldn’t be lost. Oh my—” She takes a deep, irritated breath. “Just leave me alone.”

What the hell is this woman’s problem? Why is she so rude all the goddamn time? Fine, she can look for the ring herself. I don’t care. Not my problem.

I look away and then, of course, spot the ring at the bottom of the pool. It glitters up at me, the pool lights illuminating the small silver band, and I curse my conscience because I can’t let her keep panicking. I duck under the water, pick up the ring, and swim over to her, hoping she hasn’t noticed that I’m completely fucking naked.

“Here.”

She’s still on her hands and knees, and her shoulders relax when she spots what I’m holding. She takes the ring, our fingers brushing. “Thank you.”

“It’s fine,” I say, eyebrows still low from annoyance, and swim back to the other side of the pool.

“Oh my god, are you naked?”

The back of my neck heats, and I cover myself the best I can. “I thought I was alone.”

“Well, you’renot,” she says. “This is a shared pool!”

Don’t I fucking know it.

A scratching sound interrupts the brewing argument, and Denver spins to face her room.

“Wesson,no!”

A golden retriever skids through the open patio door, nails sliding against the tiles, and splashes into the pool. He paddles over to me happily, licking my face.

I can barely contain my smile. “You have adog?”

“Yes, and he’s licking a naked man,” Denver whimpers, her hands on her cheeks.

I scrunch my face up, still unable to move my hands as Wesson’s tongue laps at my chin. Eventually, the dog stops, opting to swim the length of the pool instead.

“You’re a bad boy!” Denver whispers angrily.

“Me?” I ask, grinning.

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