Chapter 4
Lily watched Mac from beneath lowered lashes as she leaned back in her seat near the front of the boat. They’d just arrived at Pot-a-hock Island, one of at least fifty boats scattered around the immediate area. Most people lounged in their boats for the day, enjoying the water and sun, but there were several couples and families on shore, setting up their gear for the day—coolers, towels, and beach stuff.
She breathed out a long, slow breath, adjusting her dress so that the top wasn’t pressing in on her chest.
Last night she’d convinced herself that Mackenzie wasn’t anything more than the result of a bad decision and too much cheap champagne—there was a reason God had invented Dom Pérignon. For all she knew that hot, passionate night was nothing more than a fantasy. A big, inflated version of something ordinary.
But she was wrong. Holy hell was she wrong.
The physical reaction going on inside her was crazy. She had come here today, armed with Blair Hubber as an extra buffer, confident that her overreaction the day before was just a fluke. Why else would she run away from him like a teenager?
Lily St. Clare didn’t run. Lily met things head on. She dealt with things in a no-nonsense manner with a heavy dose of cool detachment thrown in for good measure.
But with just one look, he’d made her gut clench, and right now, her freaking nipples were standing on end.
She blew out a long, hot breath.
Again.
What the hell? Sure he was all male and gorgeous to boot, but she was used to the pretty people. They populated her old life on a regular basis, yet Mackenzie Draper transcended that.
With his longish blond hair, golden skin, and wicked green eyes set beneath the aristocratic arch of his eyebrows, he made her heart beat like an out-of-control drum. His even, white teeth, chiseled jaw, and square chin were enough to pull any girl into his orbit, and Lord knows, Lily was spinning crazily. Christ, if she didn’t hold on, she was going to float away and never come back.
Never had she reacted to a man this way, and she might not know much, but she was pretty darn sure that Mackenzie Draper wasn’t the kind of guy to get hung up on.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Jake slid into the seat beside her, his eyes on Raine, who was at the wheel of the boat. Mac had already jumped into the water, the shallow water at mid-thigh as he chatted up the couple in the boat anchored beside them.
Blair stood, his hands shoved into the front pockets of his shorts, a smile on his face as he turned to acknowledge a shout from someone else.
That was the thing about small towns. It was hard to be incognito, especially when everyone knew your name and your business. It was the only aspect of living in Crystal Lake that she wasn’t yet used to.
“Lily?” Jake prompted.
For the moment, Lily and Jake had some privacy. She considered lying, but Jake knew her too well, and besides, lying wasn’t her thing.
She glanced behind them. A boat cut through the water, churning up spray in its wake. Overhead, the sun shone, and she knew it was going to be a hot one, especially considering it was only the end of May. It didn’t bode well for what was coming this summer. Already her dress clung to her body, the bathing suit underneath damp from the heat. She waited a few more seconds, gathering her thoughts.
“I slept with your friend on New Year’s Eve.”
For one brief second, pure shock filled Jake’s eyes. “You slept with Mac?” he sputtered.
She nodded but didn’t answer.
“Mackenzie Draper,” Jake said.
“The one and only.”
“You’ve got to be kidding. You and Mac?”
Lily leaned closer. “Get it together, Edwards. I don’t want this broadcast all over the place. Lori the hairdresser is in the boat next to us, so unless you wipe that stupid look off your face, she’s going to smell gossip, and it will be all over Crystal Lake before I make it home.”
Jake’s eyes narrowed, and he leaned back, exhaling loudly. “You and Mac…you guys… I don’t get it. How the hell did you two get together and I didn’t know about it?”
“It just happened, okay? Call it a moment of insanity. I was leaving the Coach House and he arrived in a taxi.” She shrugged nonchalantly, though she was feeling anything but. In fact, heat ran through her like wildfire as images of the two of them danced in her mind.
“I got in,” she continued as she turned around to face the water. “He didn’t get out. End of story.”
Jake settled his elbows on the edge of the boat as he too looked out over the water. In the distance, several boats dotted the pristine, blue lake. All of them headed for Pot-a-hock Island.