racing back toward the lake. She ran through the shallow bits
and dove, disappearing without so much as a splash. She
resurfaced quite a distance from where she’d gone under.
Claire had to admit Haley was a good swimmer. She wasn’t
lying about that.
She threw her hands on her hips. “I’m not backing down on
this and I’m not supervising you. Get back to the beach.”
“And if I don’t?” Haley lazily circled on her back.
The air heated in Claire’s lungs. Her breathing was a mess.
It was all she could do not to gulp down oxygen. The heat was
anger, she reasoned, from having to deal with an impertinent
girl who should know better than a five-year-old, when she
had better things to be doing. She realized she was grasping
her hands into fists on her hips, and she relaxed them, then
dropped them altogether. She didn’t like tells.
She’d like to see if Haley was so cocky spread out on her
desk or some other hard surface. What would she look like
coming apart?
Not yours. Not for you. Never for you. You promised.
Claire needed to get out of there, but she was caught
between leaving to settle down the rioting emotions she
couldn’t control and staying to make a point. She was
frustrated. She didn’t like being frustrated. She stamped her
foot in the sand. “Get back to the beach now. Or I will make
good on my promise to hire someone to watch you and prevent
you from doing stupid things.”
“Well, you did say that if I was supervised, I could swim.
Go ahead. Hire someone. Make them nice. Also, if you can get
someone less aggressive looking than Jenny, but just as ferally
hot, that would be cool.”