Diving In

Chapter 2-2

Whistling a carefree tune, I returned to the boat after the meeting. I carried the box with the leftover cinnamon rolls—they would make an excellent and nutritious dinner—and looked forward to a lovely day. Despite the early hour, the sun beat down on my shoulders from a cloudless sky. Birds chirped, leaves rustled in the trees, and happy sounds filled the air. It would probably be a busy day by the lake.

A smile broke out on my face. Spending hot, summer days on the lake was my favorite thing to do. I’d loved the water all my life. My mom used to tell stories about me splashing around in the water before I even could walk, like I was born in the sea. When I was a kid, I learned how to swim holding my feet tightly together, like a mermaid’s tail, because I wanted to be a mermaid. Merman. Whatever. Something the guys teased me about mercilessly.

I leaned back my head and let the rays of heat caress my face. I loved my life. I loved the lake. I loved my best friends, our business, and the little town of Okwaho Lake.

Exhaling a loud, contented sigh, I continued on the path to Bamse, my boat. My thirty-seven foot, thirty-year-old pride and joy, named after my first dog, would never win a beauty contest, but she was reliable. Sturdy. And she rocked me to sleep every night under a sky full of stars, waves lapping against the hull. Ever since I first set foot on a houseboat in my teens, I’d never wanted to live in a regular home.

A happy bark pulled me out of my thoughts. “Did you miss me, boys?” I yelled. The answer to my question was a “yip,” followed by a splash when Greg leapt off the bow and into the water.

“You’re impossible.” I smiled at my little guy who swam as fast as he could, tongue lolling out of his mouth and ears on alert, listening for a command from me. I knew Schipperkes loved the water, but Greg had taken it to a whole new level. I was pretty sure he’d been some kind of fish in a previous life. Maybe a piranha, considering his sharp teeth.

He met me by the shore and shook out his fur, drops of water flying in every direction.

“Hey, I already had a shower this morning.” I picked him up with my free hand, and he licked my face with his usual enthusiasm. I chuckled. My dogs were another item on that long list of things I loved about my life.

Back on the boat, I put away the cinnamon rolls, refilled the dogs’ water bowls, and changed into board shorts and the company polo shirt. Then I whistled to my dogs and we jumped ashore, getting ready for the day.

I opened the boathouse and made sure the canoes and paddles and other equipment was in order, even though it was unnecessary, considering I was the one closing up at night and always straightened out everything before I quit for the day.

Just when I was done, I got company.

Two guys with their arms around each other sauntered toward the lake as though they had all the time in the world. They smiled at each other with glittering eyes as though no one else existed, and the sight of them made me weak in the knees. They were so obviously in love that even a blind person would have been able to see it.

Still unnoticed by the men, I allowed myself to stare openly. The taller of the two—probably around six feet—had coffee-colored hair, a slim waist, narrow hips, and long, muscular legs that made my mouth water. His olive skin was flawless and looked as if it would feel like satin under a man’s palms.

The shorter guy reached Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome to the chin. He had a bounce to his step, as though he had a spring attached to the soles of his shoes, as they made their way to the lake. His ash-brown hair was streaked by the sun, and I wanted to run my fingers through it to see if it was as soft and silky as it looked.

They had to be the guys staying in the cabin Ev had told us about earlier. Mr. and Mr. Waters. They were a handsome couple who couldn’t keep their hands off each other and looked at each other with devotion so deep, I had to swallow a lump in my throat.

They had what I’d always craved but had yet to find, the only thing missing from my life. A profound connection, that wordless communication that meant they knew each other inside out and would always have each other’s backs.

I heaved a sigh. Too bad they were taken. They were both my kind of man; hot, but not the macho, alpha type. In shape, but not muscles on muscles. Happy. And clearly capable of deep emotions.

Greg yanked me out of my thoughts with a curious yip, then took off toward the couple.

“Greg!”

He refused to listen, and his short legs moved at a furious pace.

The men noticed him, and the shorter Mr. Waters let go of his husband and threw himself on his knees. “Well, hello, there,” he said as Greg reached him, set his paws on the man’s chest, and licked his face. Mr. Waters giggled and buried his long, thin fingers in the midnight-black fur and squeezed his eyes shut, presumably to avoid doggy-tongue on his eyeballs.

My mouth fell open as I took in the sight. Greg barked at everyone except me, Drew, or Neptune. The other guys. Jackson’s dog Tink. The poor office tortoise. And definitely at people or creatures he’d never met before. But not Mr. Waters. And not only did he not bark, he licked and panted and showered the man with affection. My eyes grew wider the longer I looked. What was up with my dog?

“Greg. Stop slobbering all over the nice man,” I said when I remembered how to talk.

Both men looked at me.

“Greg. Heel.” I stared at him, but he ignored me. “I’m sorry. He never does that. He usually doesn’t like strangers.”

The taller Mr. Waters grinned. Thin lines appeared at the corners of his eyes and made him even more attractive. “We’ve yet to meet anyone, man or dog, who doesn’t adore Sawyer.” He looked at his husband, eyes brimming with affection.

“Don’t listen to him, he’s exaggerating,” the kneeling Mr. Waters—Sawyer—said, scooped up my dog, and stood. His gaze landed on my chest and slowly he dragged it upward. “Whoa. You’re a giant.”

I chuckled. “Not really.”

“Yeah, really. You’re…what? Ten feet tall? And all that blond hair makes you look like Thor!” He freed one of his hands and fanned his face and fluttered his eyelashes. “Look, honey, it’s Thor.”

His husband rolled his eyes and shook his head. Then he offered me his hand. “Very nice to meet you. I’m Preston Waters. This is my husband Sawyer, and I’m sorry to say his brain-to-mouth filter is somewhat lacking.”

I grabbed his hand; his grip was firm and his palm warm against mine. “That’s all right. I’m Wade Johanson. Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m no Norse god.”

Sawyer pushed out his lower lip as he extended his hand, waiting for me to shake it. “You sure about that?”

“Quite.” I smiled.

“Too bad.” He wrapped his long fingers around mine. His handshake was surprisingly strong and his smile wide and warm. He was funny. And with an indulgent smile, his husband scratched my eager dog behind his ears.

Something about them made my heart hammer in my chest and I could hardly take my eyes off them.

I swallowed. I had to calm the f**k down and stop perving on them. They were our guests and they were married, for crying out loud. No matter how hot I found them, I wasn’t a backstabbing homewrecker. I’d never try to come between a happily married couple.

Reluctantly, I freed my hand from Sawyer Waters’. I took a step back and plastered a neutral, polite smile on my face. “What can I do for you, gentlemen? Are you here for a canoe?”