Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
“You’re always useful,” she says, her gaze dragging down to the top of my jeans. “And sexy. Have I told you how much I love your hips? Specifically, the chiseled parts on the sides…”
My lips curve. “You mean my V cut?”
“Is that what it’s called?” she murmurs, her eyes still glued to my body in a way that makes my cock perk up behind my fly.
“It is.” I tug my jeans lower, teasing her, and am rewarded with a sexy giggle from the woman I love.
I do love her. So much. Thank God I get to keep loving her.
Hopefully, for the rest of our lives.
“Stop,” she says as she sways closer. “If you keep that up, we’re never going to learn what’s in that lockbox.”
“The lockbox will still be there when I’ve made your box come on my mouth.”
She shakes her head. “You’re a bad, bad man.” She stops inches away, lifting her chin with a sexy smile. “But you have a very talented mouth, so…”
An hour later, after we’ve done more very good bad things to each other and let a fussing Freya out of her crate to roam the camper, we settle at the banquet with the lockbox and my new bolt cutters.
Within just a few minutes, our treasure is unveiled.
And it isn’t what either one of us expected…
Not even close.
Epilogue
Tessa
Five months later…
It’s another McGuire family end-of-summer lake party and Mother Nature has pulled out all the stops. Early September has never looked so good.
The sun is shining, the water is refreshing, and all the people—and animals—we love are enjoying a well-deserved Friday off. The older cousins ride jet skis, while the younger cousins jump off the diving board in the middle of the lake in their life jackets, with Kyle the turkey and his growing family right behind them.
On our pontoon, Pippa Jane the pig, Keanu Reeves the dog, and our own furry bundle of trouble splash in a kiddie pool amidst a cacophony of oinks, dooks, and rusty barks. They’re making such a racket, I don’t hear Binx shouting for me to join the next bout of Pool Noodle Peril until she throws a beach ball at me from the next boat over.
“Hey, watch it,” Wes says, grabbing the ball and turning to hurl it back at his little sister.
Binx laughs and ducks the projectile, before standing with her hands lifted at her sides. “Tessa said she wanted to play against Mel. I didn’t want her to miss her turn just because Keanu Reeves has volume control problems.”
“He does not,” Wren says from behind her, where she’s busy setting up snack time for the toddler set, including her own precious boy, Reed, while wearing his new baby sister, Riley, strapped to her chest. “He’s just not afraid to speak his truth. Loudly.”
Keanu Reeves throws back his head, making a sound somewhere between a howl and a bunch of silverware tossed into a woodchipper. In response, Freya climbs on his back, reaching around to wrap both paws around his lips, making Wes and I laugh.
“Are you okay on critter duty alone for a little while?” I ask, standing to toss my straw hat onto the bench beside me.
“You bet,” he says, his gaze raking up and down my torso as I strip off my cover-up, revealing my gold one-piece bathing suit. He makes a rumbling sound low in his throat, and I roll my eyes.
“It’s a one-piece,” I hiss.
“It’s hot. You’re hot,” he murmurs, still devouring me with his eyes.
“And you’re incorrigible,” I say, aiming my cover-up at his face.
He catches it easily in one hand and smiles. “Yep. I have no interest in mending my wicked ways. In fact, I think I might need to take you out on the Sea-Doo later. To a little secluded cove, I happen to know about, where no one will hear you scream my name.”
My cheeks heat and butterflies fill my stomach. Even after five months of getting naked with this man every chance we get; I still can’t get enough of him. If anything, I want him more with every passing day.
But not enough to risk getting caught by one of the teenagers out riding their own Sea-Doos.
“Tonight,” I promise. “I have a surprise for you.”
His brows lift. “Yeah? A sex surprise?”
“Let’s just say my treasure chest order finally came in,” I murmur vaguely.
The lockbox we found in Utah didn’t contain Butch Cassidy’s loot, after all. Which turned out to be a good thing, Wes and I realized later. Butch’s treasure would have been protected under a 1979 law that gives the government ownership of all archeological finds. Our treasure—a time capsule buried by a group of high society Ivy Leaguers on a summer adventure in the 1950s—was exempt from the mandate, allowing us to do with the contents what we wished.