Page 121 of Give & Take

I know he’s likely heading over to the other side of the truck, next to the trees to get his bathing suit on.

But Raph shakes his head. “I’m not changing.”

I frown. “Yes you are.”

He waggles his brow, tugging his shorts down an inch. “Nope. This is called undressing. Stripping, if you prefer.”

To my confused and quickly growing alarmed expression, he lowers his shorts further, revealing the V ofmuscle at the lower half of his stomach. Then the top of the dark hair at his?—

“Raph!” I exclaim. “We have neighbors!”

“They went to sleep. I’m pretty sure.”

I open my mouth to protest, but he dips his shorts lower and turns around, flashing me his ass.

“Oh my God.” I clap a hand over my eyes. “Stop!”

“Do you really want me to stop, Sunshine? Because I will. But I’m telling you skinny dipping with phosphorescence is a life-changing experience.”

I lower my hand. “There’s phosphorescence here?”

Four years ago, a bloom happened right at the beach at Redbeard Cove, and I took the girls down to swim in it with the rest of the town. I have a giant framed photo of them splashing around in it hanging in the ground floor bathroom at home. Aurora’s only a baby, and her sweet chubby face is lit up as she sits and splashes, while Nova’s doing this spinning thing I somehow managed to capture at the same time with the camera.

Raph asked about the photo early on. I told him it was the one and only time we’ve seen them, and that I consider them extremely lucky, not just because of the picture I got, but because the next day, my divorce to Mike was finalized.

“I checked when you were in the bathroom,” Raph says.

I grimace—the only downside of this campground is the closest toilet to our site is the smelly pit toilets. The flushing ones are over by the shower, a full fifteen minute walk away.

“So?” Raph says. “Stop undressing?”

“Sure, I’m thinking about the pit toilet now.”

Raphael frowns. “Well that’s not sexy. But this is, right?”

He turns around, teasing his shorts down so far there’s no doubt what another centimeter will do.

“Okay,” I say. “Yes, that’s very sexy.”

And it is. All thoughts fly out of my brain right then, because he drops the shorts right down, freeing himself.

He’s beautiful. Like a Greek statue; an Olympic athlete. But not a beefy one. An archer, maybe. The soft glow of firelight dances across his skin. It catches on the pendant at his chest. The leaf.

“Is there a special meaning to that?” I ask.

“My penis?”

I nearly choke. “Your pendant!”

He walks over to me, the twinkle in his eye telling me he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Yes.” He kneels down and holds it out for me. I try to ignore his nakedness, the way I can feel the heat radiating off of him.

I sit up in the hammock, taking it as he offers, feeling the ridged veins against my fingertips. “What is it?”

“It’s a Hawthorn leaf. This one is from Ireland. The Celts considered the Hawthorn a wild and enchanted tree. Full of power and magic.”

“Why do you wear it?”

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