Page 57 of Fault Lines
“I love this place so far.” She turned, bright and open. “Almost a week here, but today’s our first time trying the jet skis.”
“Oh, we love it too.” I hugged my bag. “Just haven’t had much time lately. Where are you guys staying?”
“The B&B off the highway.” She gestured to the right. “It’s so close.”
“I know the one. I’ve only heard good things.”
She flashed a satisfied smile. “No complaints so far.”
The guys reappeared, engine keys in hand, guiding the jet skis through shallows up to their waists. Jake, up close, was a little shorter than Cam.
“Ladies, you coming?” Jake called.
April and I followed suit, stopping to find a spot for our towels. Cam tossed me his shirt; I caught it and saw Jake do the same for April.
“Just throw ‘em by the stump,” Cam said. “Nobody’s gonna touch them.”
We did, and I shrugged off my coverup, glad I’d remembered to bring sunscreen in my tiny bag.
April caught me shaking the can. “Mind if I borrow some? I’m such a ditz—I always forget.”
“Of course.” I sprayed myself down. The cold slick hit my skin and made me flinch, but April only grinned.
“Turn around, I’ll do your back,” she said, and I obliged. Cold again. Necessary evil.
When we finished, April pulled off her oversized shirt. A washboard stomach. And her bikini top barely contained the rest of her. I tried not to stare.
“You must work out a lot,” I said, gesturing. “Your abs are insane.”
“I’m a personal trainer,” she explained. “I teach kickboxing and rock climbing too.”
“No kidding,” I laughed. “Now it makes sense.”
She shrugged, like it was no big deal, and led the way to the water.
I caught, in that moment, the way Cam’s eyes tracked her as she climbed onto Jake’s jet ski. Not even pretending not to notice. I tried to ignore it and let Cam help me onto his. I settled in behind him, arms tight.
We’d done this before, but always on separate jet skis. Cam with a passenger was a new (potentially wild) experience.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Wanna race?” Jake called.
Cam didn’t even pretend to hesitate. “Nope!” he shouted, revving ahead with a whoop and leaving Jake and April chasing our wake.
They pushed hard, but Cam kept the lead, zigzagging us across the wide blue lake and weaving a wild trail between the boats and other jet skiers. Soon we had half the lake racing along with us, loops and circles, Cam managing a few show-off tricks but (thankfully) nothing too wild with me clinging behind.
Eventually, we pulled up onshore, muscles shaky as I climbed off. Cam anchored the jet ski while I stretched out, grateful I’d survived.
“That was so fun!” April bounced over, energy undimmed.
“I know,” I said, a little out of breath.
“Cam’s impressive. Way better than Jake.”
I grinned. “He’s had more practice.”
April’s gaze slid past me, drawn toward Cam, lingering in a way that made the back of my neck tingle. I wanted to like her, but that look—I saw it. The calculating way she admired my husband. Not a good feeling.
