Page 27 of Love to Hate You

“Infuriatingly serious.”

He reached out to brush her hair out of her face, and there went those damn flutters. “Are you telling me you don’t like the state you’re in?”

Nope, she absolutely positively despised that he could invoke a reaction from her body. She shoved at him again. “I don’t like you.”

He was all business when he said, “All you have to do is tell me you don’t like it and I’ll stop.”

“Stop what? Being an ass, flirting with me, coming to my rescue?” She especially hated the last one.

“All of it.”

She opened her mouth to say yes she wanted him to stop, but nothing came out except a squeak. His eyes dropped to her lips—which she licked.

His smile extended. “That’s what I thought.” His legs purposefully wrapped around hers and she shivered—and not from the frigid waters. “When you’re tired of boys and ready for a man, just let me know.”

And without warning, he flipped the kayak over, sending her plunging back under the water.

Chapter 11

estranged brothers

Wes hated to lose. So then why had he sabotaged the race? Yup, he’d sabotaged it all right. He knew the second she’d stuck that pert nose in the air as they climbed into the kayak and said, “Try to keep up,” that there was no way she was crossing that finish line first. But last? That had been the icing on the cake.

Or maybe the icing had been the way her body had responded to his. The dilated pupils, the shallow breaths, the pert nipples—that hadn’t been a side effect of the cold. That had been chemistry, pure and simple. Not that he’d let it go any further than flirting—the woman drove him nuts—but throwing her off her game was entertaining. More entertaining than it should be.

Except she hadn’t been the only one whose world had gone a little askew. When their bodies had tangled, and his hand had slid across her soft skin, his dick had raised its mast. The fact that it had happened while in frigid temps was impressive. That it had happened on account of a whimsical, sunny-as-a-summer’s-day, diehard romantic was impossible. She had freckles and wore glasses and had this innocence about her that told him life hadn’t yet chewed her up and spat her out.

Wes dated sophisticated, slinky ballbusters who wore suits to work, not T-shirts with ridiculous sayings or frilly sundresses. Then again, he had a good eight years and a lifetime of letdowns on her. Not that he had ever been that naive—his childhood hadn’t afforded him that luxury. She was the exact wrong kind of woman for him. Or maybe it was more like he was the exact wrong kind of man for her. Where she was soft, he had razor ridges; when she smiled, he flipped the universe the bird; where she believed in true love, he believed it was every person for themselves.

Which raised the question of why he’d been actively pushing her buttons and going as far as to flirt with her. Well, whatever the reason, it needed to stop—now.

Committed to his plan, Wes pulled on dry clothes and walked downstairs. He’d just hit the landing when someone yanked him by the arm and forced him into an empty bedroom.

“You’re going to ruin everything,” Randy said. Even though he was clearly fresh from the shower, he was flushed and sweating and looked ready to throw up.

“How am I ruining things?” Wes wanted to know. “I’m the one who got stuck with Pollyanna so that you could pair with Playmate Barbie.”

With a significant lifting of the brow, Randy said, “They’re identical. I mean, I nearly kissed Summer at breakfast. If it hadn’t been for the flannel pajama bottoms andTALK BOOKISH TO MEshirt, I would have had a lot of explaining to do.”

“Seriously?” Wes’s mind reeled with confusion. “You can’t tell them apart?”

“Can you?”

“Yes.” To Wes it couldn’t be more obvious. Summer was softer, more emotionally aware and subtle, carried herself with an understated assuredness that was more than her twenty-four years. Yes, she was naive, but not in a bad way. In an adorable way.

There was nothing understated about Autumn.

Autumn was boisterous, intense, and surface-level. She did have a big heart, but it was often overshadowed by her selfish tendencies. She wasn’t a bad person, just someone who’d had life easy and needed to grow up a little. Kind of like Randy.

“Look, I’m trying to win over the family, and I can’t do that when you’re pissing her sister off.”

Wes snorted. “I think you have that backwards. She’s the instigator.”

“What is this? Middle school?”

“I don’t know, are you going to pass Autumn a note that says ‘check yes or no’?”

Randy’s face went serious, like it had when their father died. All it took was five or so months for Randy to go rogue and take off on a spontaneous trip to follow Taylor Swift. A bad feeling settled in Wes’s stomach.

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