Conception (The Wellingtons #4) - Tessa Teevan Page 0,55

sound like much of a hardship to me.”

Nope, it sure doesn’t.

Just like Knox predicted, Sunny, Joe, and Sam are waiting for us at the lake a couple of hours later. We took our time in the shower—though I don’t know why considering we walked out into one-hundred-degree weather—then made breakfast. Knox ran back to his place to grab clothes and essentials, whatever those were, before showing back up with his brother in tow.

Clay took one glance at my messy hair, swollen lips, and the love bite I didn’t even know Knox left on my neck and gave me a thumbs-up.

Not embarrassing at all.

“Maria would love you,” he said.

Whatever that meant.

After Knox hit his brother on the back of the head, we packed up sandwiches, snacks, water, and beer and headed down towards the lake.

Even from twenty yards away, I can see Sunny’s legs bouncing up and down, probably dying to run over here and get all the details. She eyes me knowingly then gives Knox the same scrutiny. He ignores her and gets to work lathering sunscreen all over my body, not being even the least bit inconspicuous when his hands dive into my bikini bottoms and I squeal, getting the attention of everyone around us.

Sunny’s beaming from ear to ear; Joe’s smirking; Clay’s laughing; and Sam? Poor Sam is looking anywhere but in our direction.

I’m trying not to blush, and I’m pretty sure I’m failing miserably. Ignoring the lot of them, I return the favor for Knox—yes, that also means dipping my fingers into the back of his bathing suit—though he doesn’t quite find it as amusing as I do. He grabs a couple of beers and chucks me a water, and then we settle in the sand next to the gang.

Just as I’m taking The Gloryhole Killer out of my bag, Sunny swipes it out of my hands. “No, girl. No.”

I raise my heart-shaped glasses to peer at her. “What, girl?” I echo.

“You take off last night with barely a goodbye, that hot piece of tail practically hanging off you. You’re gonna come here, not say a word, and expect me not to ask?”

“Come on, Sunny. It’s all casual,” I tell her, my eyes widening with a small nod back to Knox, hoping she gets the message that we’ll talk later.

Knox clears his throat. “For the record, while I appreciate the compliment, Sunny, I prefer radical dude over being likened to a rabbit.”

Sam lifts a fist in solidarity. “Righteous, brother.”

Sunny gapes at the both of them then turns to me. “He’s not serious. Tell me he’s not serious. Radical is never going to catch on. Never.”

Clay pipes in. “I don’t know. I hear it all the time in the city. Maybe it’s just slow to become a thing out here in the sticks. All you fuddy duddies.”

Sunny glares at him. “We’re, like, two hours from multiple major cities, you turkey.”

“Take a chill pill, sister.”

That has her laughing, and she gives him a mocking salute. “Ten four, good buddy!”

Joe groans. “No. No more trucker talk. That’s just whacked.”

“Or is it wicked?”

I’m still laughing at their back-and-forth over the ’70s vernacular Grams often laments over when Sunny scoots closer to me.

“I’ll give you back this stupid book if you answer three questions for me,” she says.

“Can we do this later?” I ask through gritted teeth. I might be willing to do pretty much anything in the bedroom when it comes to this man, but I’m not spelling it all out for the boys to hear while they’re still watching us.

Sunny doesn’t say a word. She just turns towards her boyfriend, giving him a look that speaks more than words could.

Joe snaps his fingers and moves to his feet, bending down to reach inside of the cooler. “All right, fellas. That’s the not-so-subtle signal for ‘get the hell outta here so the girls can gossip.’”

Sunny turns back to me with a triumphant smile. We watch as the men each grab a beer and head on down to the shore and into the water. With the sun already beating down on my back, I’m a bit jealous at their cooling off, so I gratefully take the Michelob Light Sunny tossed in my direction.

“Before I left the house this morning, Gran warned me that the combination of beer and sun would send me to the hospital,” she muses before taking a sip from her can.

“She’s probably right.” I point to the cooler Knox carried down for us. “Which is why that’s loaded with