Page 38 of Between the Lines

“Fine.” Halle laughs, wiping her eyes. “So can we talk about how all summer I haven’t even swam in a pool and you have access to a luxury pool but refuse to swim in it?”

Daisy tries to climb onto the TV stand, so I grab her, pull her into my lap, and hand her a cup full of yogurt bites. It will keep her busy for three minutes until she decides to decorate the floor with them.

“It just feels weird to me!” I shriek, hands in the air. “I know I’m supposed to feel at home, but what . . . I’m just going to float around in my bikini while Caden cuts his grass?”

With her brows pulled low, Halle scoffs. “Yeah, that’s exactly what you should do. I don’t understand the hang-up.”

Suddenly, I’m sweaty, like there’s a spotlight on me. Daisy comes crashing into my chest, her drooly hands slapping my shoulder. “Gentle, Daisy,” I coo, and she smiles at me, green eyes sparkling with joy, her strawberry blonde curls sticking out at the base of her neck.

Halle stays quiet for a minute, and I know her mind is brewing.

“Just say it, Hal.” I roll my eyes towards her.

“Okay,” she starts, leaning forward on her knees. “Maybe you’re afraid of what will happen . . . because though Caden’s a bit cold, let’s face it, he’s incredibly hot and you’re incredibly hot, and I mean . . . a bikini, a lawn mower . . .” Her brows waggle. “Anything could happen.”

I sit up now, mouth wide open, gawking at my friend.

“No. Freaking. Way. Trust me, Caden is not attracted to me.” I laugh, though my cheeks are burning at the idea. And at the image of his tan and chiseled chest I’ve seen one too many times since moving to the guesthouse.

Halle lifts her hands in surrender. “Okay, well if anything ever happens, you know I won’t tell a soul. But I better be the first to know.”

“Nothing is going to happen,” I croak, reaching out to adjust a stack of magazines on the coffee table. “And just to prove it to you, I will go swimming. And I guarantee he won’t even look my way.”

Halle rolls her eyes. “K, let me know how that goes, babe.”

A little numbing gel on Daisy’s gums, her giraffe stuffie, and the sound machine at full volume was the magic recipe tonight.

By 7:30 PM, Daisy is off to dreamland.

I’m equally exhausted as I fall onto the soft linen sofa. Hamburger immediately comes running up, purring and nudging my hand for pets.

“Hi, Hammy, I missed you too,” I coo, scratching him behind his left ear. Only ever his left ear though—once I dared to pet him lovingly on the right ear and earned a paw-slap to the face. I think from time to time he just likes to remind me that you can take the cat out of the streets but you can’t take the streets out of the cat.

A loud sigh escapes me as I stare out the window facing Caden’s house, the pool water like a sheet of glass between us. His Jeep isn’t in the driveway, and though I promised Halle I’d swim when he was around . . . an evening swim sounds heavenly right now.

Quietly, I fish through my packed trash bags and find my swimsuit, happy I decided last minute to pack it. It’s a lavender string bikini that Penny insisted looked gorgeous against my skin and copper hair.

After changing, I take a peep in the mirror.

Tiny stretch marks line the side of my hips: proof I brought life into this world. But I’ve always liked my legs. And despite hating the splattering of freckles across my shoulders as a kid, I’ve grown to love them.

I swivel to look at my ass. The bottoms of this bathing suit are quite cheeky, but overall I guess I don’t look horrible. However, Halle is still wrong. I don’t know Caden’s type, but it’s not me. Definitely not me.

I bet he dates girls who surf or do yoga, who are peaceful and gorgeous without trying. Not girls who live in three-day-old french braids and always have some sort of food crusted on their clothes from their toddler.

Wrapping a pool towel around me, I toss my hair up in a bun and step outside, with the baby monitor in hand. Daisy shouldn’t wake up for at least another three hours.

Outside, crickets and bullfrogs create a symphony, the sun just starting to dip below the tree line. The air is wet with humidity, and I relish being out here alone.

I drop the towel in a puddle on the lounge chair—which looks like it’s never been used—and test the water with my toes. It’s surprisingly warm, and already the knots in my shoulders ease a bit.

The water surrounds me as I push off the blue tiled steps, gliding freely into the deep end. I think a smile even forms on my face.

This is exactly what I needed.

15

Caden