Page 17 of Loving at 40

“I’m serious,” Mason argues, but none of us believe him. Not only could he be a male model but he might also be a damn good actor. However, he’s in construction. “Isn’t that why Jenna’s here? You want me to get laid.”

Several things happen in unison. Zack groans, “Dude.” Anna drops the pan she was rinsing in the sink, and I take a few steps forward, ready to reach over the island and throat-punch Mason.

“That ship sailed,” Jenna announces to the kitchen, and my neck cranes, catching her entering the room in a see-through dress which does nothing to disguise her body or the bathing suit underneath. The gauzy material outlines her long, lean form and accentuates those long, lean legs. Oh, hell no, to Mason getting anywhere near her.

“What does that mean?” I growl as she pauses near the kitchen counter. Jenna locks eyes with Mason only briefly before turning to Anna.

“Can I help with anything?”

You can start by telling me what the fuck? Did Jenna sleep with Mason?

“You know you can’t resist me,” Mason teases, walking over to Jenna and rubbing at her hair like a beloved puppy.

“I resist you every time I see you in Elk Lake City,” Jenna deadpans, shifting out from under his touch.

“All a ploy to reel me closer.”

“Keep dreaming,” Jenna states, glancing up at him with a scowl.

“I do dream. I so dream.” His eyes follow Jenna, who walks over to Anna, but if I didn’t know better, I’d guess his gaze drifts from my woman to my sister. Wait. Back that up. Not my woman, my roommate. The woman I dream about, and what a dream it had been when I fell back into bed for an hour this morning. Those lush lips parted. Those tight legs around my hips. The tease of heat over my lap, drawing me into her depths.

Fuck. I need to stop thinking about her.

Slipping my fists into my pockets, I ask, “Where are my girls?” As if I possess Jenna’s daughters. Everything in the kitchen seems to stop at my question. Jenna freezes. Anna spins to face me. Zack stills.

“Do you mean Rosie and Talia?” Zack asks, a brow hitching upward.

“Yep. The little princesses.”

“They’re in the driveway with Mila and Lorna,” Jenna answers.

“Party people. Logan in the house.” The announcement wallows into the kitchen before Logan is actually present, but his party people persona dies once I see him holding a baby in his arms. The little guy sucks two fingers and glances over his shoulder at all of us before dipping his head into his father’s neck. Baby Ben. Everywhere is a reminder of my sister’s loss, but she crosses the kitchen and ducks her head to speak quietly to the shy child. She’s so good with kids—always has been—and it’s the reason she wanted to be a teacher.

My gaze drifts to Jenna, recalling she does the same thing as my sister, teaching high school students. Then I shift my attention to Mason, narrowing my eyes and pointing two fingers at my eyes before swiveling my hand in his direction. He good-naturedly chuckles before giving me the middle finger over Jenna’s head. He has no idea how much I’ll fuck him up if he considers playing with her. And I definitely need to know if he touched her.

“Beach time,” Anna announces to the room as she trails a hand down little Ben’s back, and I agree it’s time for some fresh air.

7

[Jenna]

I shouldn’t be self-conscious in my bathing suit. I’ve had two children, for heaven’s sake, which means my breasts sag a bit, and my stomach isn’t flat. Not to mention, my hips are more accentuated than they once were. However, the way Archer’s eyes keep shifting to me makes me anxious. The one-piece suit is halter style with a deep V between my breasts and large straps that tie behind my neck. The midnight blue material is nothing unique, yet I’d splurged on the suit for this vacation. Now, I’m second-guessing the decision. My nipples are continually erect under Archer’s gaze, and I constantly check the breast coverage, hoping a boob hasn’t sprung free.

A day at the beach with Ben’s friends is entertaining. They razz one another as if they are still twenty-two instead of forty-two, keeping up a stream of insults and jokes. I wait for the moment Ben’s shenanigans with these men will turn into sour memories, but it never happens. The laughter continues. The stories inflate, and the time passes with pleasant reminders of their best friend.

My thoughts drift to that first year after Ryan’s death and how I felt when people spoke about him. I note that Anna smiles through the teasing tales and encourages details for events I’m certain she already knows by heart.

Then they recall a story about me.

“Remember when we had to come rescue you from that dance?” Logan teases, and I shake my head, eyes drifting to Archer. I don’t need these guys telling embarrassing tales about me. “You were such a wild woman, Jenna Babenna. Making all the boys crazy.”

I softly chuckle at the reminder of being young, free, and a little reckless, but I don’t need a retelling of this story. My eyes meet Archer’s across our circle of Adirondack chairs on the beach, and he arches one brow, curiosity in his expression.

“What was that guy’s name?” Mason snaps his fingers, and I close my eyes, already knowing where this is leading. Zack laughs.

“Richard Ball,” I mutter under my breath, pausing a beat until the name registers.

“Dickie Ball,” Zack repeats. “I wonder whatever happened to him.”