Fool Me Twice (17 page)

“Right, then. Let’s go.” I lead him around the curving paths. There are a series of irregularly shaped pools, some of them salt water and others regular old chlorinated water.

I lead him to an oval hot tub at the far end, surrounded by bushes on three sides and hidden from just about everything. I always liked this one the best.

Landon yanks off his T-shirt, and I fight the urge to spin around as if it’s not appropriate for him to be undressed. This is totally normal. Not at all …

I take a deep breath and then pull my shirt over my head, revealing my borrowed itty-bitty string bikini. It’s stark white in the darkness, complementing my tanned skin. Without giving myself the time to chicken out, I slide my shorts down and let them drop to the cement pathway.

Landon lets out a low whistle under his breath, and I turn to meet his eyes, taking in his predatory yet appreciative gaze. “You’ve been holding out on me all summer,” he says.

And suddenly I’m
very
glad Bailey talked me into wearing this, because there is no way he’s thinking about anything but me. “Good things come to those who wait,” I say, and then step to the edge of the hot tub, dipping my toe into the water.

“And to those who think they’ve waited long enough?”

“I guess we’ll find out,” I say, smiling coyly at him as I splash the water in his direction with my toe. I’m not sure where this flirty girl came from, but I think I like her.

I lower myself down to the first step at the edge of the spa, then step down again until the water rises up my thighs, then touches my hips. Landon doesn’t move to follow me, just watches, his face almost impassive. And then when the water tops my belly button, he finally moves, coming around to the steps where I entered and following me, until we’re standing in the middle of the tub. The water hits the bottom of my rib cage, but on Landon
it’s barely over the spot where his muscles indent around his hips.

I feel warm under the intensity of his gaze, and I let myself touch his arm. He smiles, the barest lifting of his lips revealing those stark white teeth. “You look …” I don’t fill in the blanks as I want to know what he’s about to say. “Delicious.”

And then despite the heat of the water, I shiver.

He traces a finger up my arm, drawing little circles on my shoulder before dancing down my collarbone, walking his fingers across my skin and leaving a trail of goose bumps in his wake. He stops at the base of my throat, his fingers whisper-soft. I lick my lips involuntarily, and his gaze darts to my mouth.

“You should really not do that again,” he says, his voice low and sultry, and I think I just melted into the hot tub.

Before I even register what I’m doing, I lick my lips again, and in an instant he’s crushing me up against him, his hands cupping my jawline on either side as he pulls my face up to meet his.

And then we’re kissing and it’s a good thing he’s holding me like this, because I am certain my legs don’t actually exist anymore, that they’ve left my body to stand on its own.

He moves one hand back and tangles it into my hair, his other arm sliding around behind me, pressing me against him, and I finally wake up enough to move, letting my hands skim up across his abs before resting against his heart.

I’m not sure how long we stand like that, kissing. When we finally pull apart I’m breathless, my head spinning. I thunk down on the hard stone bench that curves around the outer edges of the tub.

Landon sits down a few feet away, and when I meet his eyes I realize he’s grinning, ear to ear, a strangely intoxicating mixture of pleasure and arrogance, as if he’s simultaneously saying he enjoyed it and that he
knew
I’d enjoyed it as much as he had.

“You are trouble,” I say, splashing water toward him.

“Yeah, it’s too bad you like me so much,” he says.

“Yeah. It’s too bad.” I nod. “I vote we skinny-dip in that saltwater pool,” I say, pointing to the pool that is most concealed by bushes.

“I’m game,” he says.

“Okay then,” I say, standing. “You go get in first. Then close your eyes and I’ll join you.”

“No way, you first.”

“Uh-uh. No deal. You have to be in the pool so I know you can’t see me.”

“I never knew you were so modest,” he says, but he’s getting out of the hot tub, heading toward the saltwater pool. I follow him halfway, then pause next to the bushes.

“I swear I won’t peek,” I call out, turning around and staring at the backside of the spa building, listening to the sounds of Landon undressing.

“What if I want you to?” There’s a playfulness to his tone, and I fight the blush burning in my cheeks, refusing to turn and see him.

When the water splashes and my heartbeat is thundering louder than a summer storm, I call out, “Is it safe to turn around?”

“Uh-huh,” he says. When I look back at him, he’s in the middle of the pool, the water lapping around his bare shoulders.
I’m glad the night is so dark, because I’m so hardcore blushing right now.

“Okay. Turn around,” I say. “So I can ditch my clothes.”

He sighs and does as I ask. I wait a heartbeat, staring at the muscles on his back. Then I dash over to the bush, where he’s tossed his clothing. “No peeking,” I repeat, grabbing his shorts and T-shirt off the shrub, then picking up our towels off the ground.

Part of me doesn’t want to go through with this little prank, but I can’t possibly get into the pool naked with him. I just can’t give him any more power until I know his feelings for me are real.

His back is still to me, so I creep farther away, until I’m standing near the fence line, clutching all of his clothing.

“Have a good night!” I call out, the laughter evident in my voice as I shove my way through the gate.

Water splashes, followed by muttered curse words, but I can’t make out his response as I run, barefoot, away from the spa.

Chapter Twenty-Three

“Are you sure I don’t look stupid?” I say, staring into the mirror. I’m wearing Bailey’s clothes from head to toe. We don’t have the same shoe size, though, so I don’t want to know how she found tasseled shoes in my size. “I wanted to make him think I’ve golfed before, but I seriously look like I’m playing dress up.”

“It’s classic. Sophisticated.”

“It just makes my hair seem even weirder,” I say, frowning and tipping my head to the side as I study the extreme contrast of tricolored hair paired with preppy clothes.

Bailey walks past me and grabs a Diet Coke from our fridge. She pops the top and slams the fridge shut with her hip before looking at me again. “The golf course has a dress code, so everyone is going to look like this. Lucky for you, they don’t have a hair code. Clearly no one on this entire ranch saw you coming.”

“Do you think golf is one of those fake-it-till-you-make-it sports?”

She takes a sip of her soda and stares me down, as if I’m supposed to have some dawning realization or something. Then she says, “No. There’s no chance he’s going to buy that you’ve been golfing your whole life. Just act like you’ve always loved watching it. Be a fan of the sport, since he’s into it. Anything more and he’s going to see through it.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” I stop fiddling with the hem of the short khaki skirt and raise a brow at her. “You know, I kinda look like you.”

“Exactly, which is how I know you look so awesome.”

I grab the soda from her hands, then down the rest of it before tossing the can into the garbage. “I’m just glad we can use the course for free on our days off. The normal fees are ridiculous.”

“I know. Now let’s go,” she says. “My date is meeting us there and we’re already late and it’s, like, a million degrees outside, and it’s only going to get worse.”

I give up protesting, because when she sets her mind to something, there’s no contradicting her. Instead, I simply follow her, feeling the tiniest bit like a Bailey clone as we step out into the sunlight. My hair is in two little French braids, and the red and blue aren’t quite as overwhelming this way.

Just as I step off the porch, Landon walks up. “You guys are dressed like bona fide yuppies,” he says, grinning widely.

I take in his polo shirt, khaki pants, brown leather shoes. “Uh, I’m sorry, I thought my boyfriend was meeting us here. Have you seen him? Texas accent, jeans, boots, and a little cowboy swagger?”

He grins. “Only a little swagger? I’m offended. Truly.”

“I can tell,” I say drily.

“Can you two stop flirting already? We’re running late.”

Bailey pushes past us, and Landon gives me a what’s-her-deal look. I shrug. We follow her up the pathway, and I half laugh as she stumbles on a tiny little rock and barely catches herself.

“Where’s the fire?” I call out, but she just flips me off and keeps walking. A few minutes later, we’re at the main entry to the golf course, where guests sign up, find caddies, and get refreshments.

There’s a guy standing there, and I realize he’s Bailey’s date when she walks up and throws her arms around him. Another guy I’ve never met, never heard of, before today. I mean, sure, last year, Bailey had fun playing the field, flirting up a storm. But this year, it’s reached a whole new level.

Michael is … cute but a little too conservative. His polo is actually buttoned all the way up, and his hair is gelled within an inch of its life. When he smiles, it’s perfectly even, showing off flawless straight teeth. “Hey,” he says to us with a wave.

“Hey. You must be Michael,” I say, sticking out my hand. “Bailey told me all about you.”

It’s a lie, but oh well. He shakes my hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Landon introduces himself and shakes Michael’s hand.

“So, I already signed us in. There’s a group on the first hole, and then we’re up next.”

“Awesome. Did you want to practice your shot first?” Landon asks, turning to me. “We can use the driving range.”

Right. Like it’ll just take a couple of practice swings for me
to be ready for the full course. If we’d shared a PE class last year, he’d know better.

“Nah, I’m more of a dive into the deep end kind of girl,” I say. “I mean, I’m pretty terrible, but I
love
golf, don’t you?”

He beams. “Yeah, definitely.”

I knew that
. How did people ever scheme before social networking and high school yearbooks?

“Yep, dive into the deep end, that’s me too,” Bailey says. “Every time I golf, I like to just jump right into the first hole.”

We share a smile, because I know her golf game is going to be just as hopeless as my own.

“Okay, then. We have two sets of clubs, so if you don’t mind sharing, let’s get going,” Michael says.

“Good with me,” I say. We follow the boys past the little registration house, heading down a pretty aggregate sidewalk, one that bends and curves around the landscaping.

“I didn’t get a cart because frankly I prefer walking,” Landon says.

“Absolutely,” I say. “Walking is the only way to really experience the game.”

“Great. Then let’s go golf.”

Three hours later, I’m standing in front of the sink in one of the bathrooms positioned around the sprawling course, using a damp paper towel to wipe the back of my neck.

“I think I’m going to melt,” Bailey says, running her wrists under cold water.

“I think I already did,” I respond, tossing the napkin into the
nearby trash bin. “Remind me why we have to finish the last two holes?”

“Because you’re supposed to make Landon think you’re loving every minute of this,” she says. “And because Michael wants to.”

“And since when do you do crap you don’t want to do just for a guy? Obviously that’s more my style,” I say, gesturing to my borrowed clothes.

“That’s a good point, but I’m not sure how to get out of it,” she says. “Plus, I decided about two hours ago I’m not even into him.”

I literally scratch my head. “Then why haven’t we bailed yet?”

“Because the one guy I’m actually into, like
really
into, as in I can’t stop thinking about him, isn’t interested.”

My mouth drops open. Bailey’s spent the last year and a half trying to convince me that guys are interchangeable. “And that guy is …”

“Adam,” she says miserably. “I’ve tried every trick in the book, and he acts like I’m not even there!”

“You could consider, you know, just asking him out.” I wipe my hands on a paper towel, then toss it into the garbage as we head to the door.

“I don’t know how,” she says, and it’s so hilarious I almost laugh out loud.
“He’
s supposed to ask
me
out, but I’ve done everything in my power and
nothing
.”

“Are you sure you’re not into him just because he’s resisted your charms? Thrill of the chase or whatever?”

“It’s not that. I mean, okay, maybe it was at first.”

I wait.

“But while trying to scheme and flirt my way into a date, I started to notice all these things about him. He’s … smart and funny but super sweet too. After we shut down the ticket booth at the rodeo we were walking back toward the cabins and he overheard this girl say she really wanted cotton candy. She was a dollar short and he dug out a five and handed it to her without a word. You should have seen her expression! He was her hero.”

“So you’re telling me your love can be bought for five dollars,” I joke.

Bailey smacks my arm. “No, I can be impressed by adorable, selfless gestures. You know he’s basically terrified of horses? But he heard them say they needed help and that’s how he got stuck leading them in. And he’s the first generation in his family to go to college. And did you notice that the shower in our cabin is draining way better? I mentioned it and
bam
, he was there to fix it, just because I said it bugged me.”

“Okay, okay, he’s your dream man. I’m convinced.”

“You’re so annoying,” she says. “Don’t you get how sometimes you just
know
a guy is amazing? That’s him.”

As we step back into the hot glare of the noon sun, the laughter dies in my throat. Landon and Michael are standing in the shade of a nearby tree, and Adam’s walking toward us, pushing a big cart with shovels and boxes on it. “Incoming,” I whisper to Bailey. And then I turn to Adam. “Hey,” I say. “Is it hot out here or
what?
”