Page 165 of Crossed Wires: The Complete Series

Annie looked at Harper, her expression naughty. “Really now? And what do you plan on doing to Harper once you collect her?”

“Ah, you know us testosterone-filled Aussie blokes when it comes to American women. Take her somewhere private and?—”

“Enough, Thomo.” Annie held up a hand, shaking her head. “Just tell me, okay?”

“Swimming,” he answered. “In the eastern billabong.”

Harper’s heart leaped up into her throat. Swimming. She hadn’t packed a bathing suit. Oh God, why hadn’t she packed a bathing suit?

“That sounds like a fantastic idea,” Annie said. “And it’s my cue to get back to writing. Chapter four isn’t going to revise itself, you know.”

And before Harper could say a word, the other woman rose and walked past her, out the door. Leaving her alone with Marc.

“So?” His deep voice seemed to envelop her. “You keen for a dip?”

Stealing herself against the inevitable tummy clenching that came at the sight of him, she twisted in her seat.

The tummy clenching came. As she knew it would. How could it not, when he looked so goddamn sexy? His hat was still on his head, its brim throwing a shadow over his brilliant sapphire eyes. His hands were on his hips, accentuating the broad expanse of his chest and the lean tapering of his torso. He was, simply put, sex in denim.

And waiting for her to say something.

“Err…” Her brain went blank. What had he asked?

“Swim?” Marc prompted. “In the billabong? With Blue and I?”

“I don’t have a bathing suit,” she answered, her cheeks heating again. God, since when did she sound so pathetic and lame?

Marc’s white teeth flashed. “And you think Blue and I do?”

Harper’s belly didn’t just flip-flop. It flip-flopped, sank, knotted and fluttered.

Skinny-dipping? With Keith and Marc? Oh boy, they may be gay and not interested in her sexually, but how was she to keep the abject lust out of her eyes when she stared at them naked? Which she would. A lot.

“C’mon,” he gave her shoulder a gentle nudge with the back of his hand, “it’ll be fun. Promise.”

Harper gazed up at him, her pulse doing an insane rendition of the Riverdance in her throat.

Do it. You wouldn’t do it at home, which means you have to do it here.

“You can wear your undies if you want,” Marc went on, the tone of his voice cajoling. Playful. “And if it helps, we promise we won’t look. Much.”

Before any rationality could stop her, Harper nodded. Goddamn it, she’d come to Australia to have an adventure. To prove to her brother—and herself—she was a woman capable of making her own decisions. Of living with those decision. Swimming naked with two gay Aussie cowboys was the perfect way to do that. Right?

“Bewdy,” Marc said. Harper assumed it was an approval of her acceptance. “Now, next question, do you want to go in the ute or on horse?”

Harper blinked. “I’ve never ridden a horse in my life.”

Marc’s laugh was relaxed. “Yeah, we figured as much. Blue’s waiting in the ute outside. Ready?”

He didn’t let her ponder an answer. He reached down, threaded his fingers through hers and tugged her to her feet.

Harper’s heart smashed into overdrive. “But…but I-I have to lock up,” she blurted, tripping over her feet as he began to pull her toward the open door, through which she could see a dust-covered white Australian version of a pickup.

“Nah you don’t.” Marc tossed a smirk over his shoulder. “No one’s gonna steal anything. Trust me.”

And then they were outside, the warm breeze blowing over Harper’s arms and face feeling nothing like autumn.

“Up you go,” Marc said when they reached the side of the pickup.

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