Page 25 of Special Delivery

Emma digs through her bag, extracting a large, white shirt and forces Jordan into it. The shirt is anything but flattering, like most UV shirts are, yet I find myself envying the protection from the merciless sun. Emma slips her earth-toned dress over her head, revealing her daisy-print bathing suit. The rest do the same, removing their clothes until they’re in their bathing gear.

My breath hitches in my throat when Ryan removes his polo. His back is carved with muscles, ones I didn’t even know existed. He folds his shirt carefully before placing it on the bench, and my mouth dries as I watch his traps strain under the simple motion. Once he’s finally done, he turns, making me step back and stumble over my own two feet. Luckily, I fall right onto the bench, instead of overboard, but the loud thud alerts everyone.

“Careful there, sweetie,” my dad tells me, and my cheeks heat.

Still, my eyes stay glued to the man in front of me, unable to look away. The toned pecs with more than a sparse dusting of chest hair, the defined abs, the two chiseled lines leading straight to…

He clears his throat, making my eyes snap up. His smirk is devilish, showing me he knows exactly where my eyes—and mind—have been.

“Come on, Paige. We’re all ready to disembark.” Dad hurries me.

Dread builds in my stomach, realizing I’m supposed to get undressed now. With shaky fingers, I remove my hat, followed by my kaftan, closing my eyes for courage. They snap open, noticing no one is paying attention to me, and I release a relieved breath. Until my gaze catches on Ryan’s. There’s a tick visible in his jaw, a smolder in his gray eyes. I lick my dry lips before swallowing, his jaw ticking again.

“This looks gorgeous,” Kim coos, snapping us out of the weird, charged funk.

I finally inhale a full breath, my lungs grateful for the oxygen, and make my way out of the boat. Unlike before, when we were anchored in a harbor, we now exit directly into shallow waters. The water just about reaches me mid-thigh, and the temperature is perfect. I wiggle my toes to feel the soft sand underneath. Present company excluded, this truly is a paradise. Ryan dives in headfirst, before breaking the surface and shaking his hair as wet rivulets trickle down his chest.

I’m staring again. Shit.

I glance to my right, only to find Emma giggling at me. With a quiet scoff, I trudge through the water and onto the shore. An open leather chest waits for us on the beach.

Oh God, what did he plan for us today?

Anthony reaches the chest first, grabbing a piece of paper from inside with a smile that sends shivers up my spine.

“Welcome to the Simms-Owens First Annual Beach Games,” he says, and I barely suppress a groan. “You will be split into pairs and play three games to determine the winner.”

“Yeah, first and last year,” Jordan murmurs so only I hear, and I let out a snicker.

“What are the games?” Emma asks, her voice way too chipper for my taste.

“You will receive the instructions before the start of every game.”

My eyes roll. Talk about drama.

“For teams, I think it’s best if we keep our pairs,” Kim so unhelpfully suggests, batting her eyelashes at my smitten dad.

“Sounds great,” he agrees. A groan escapes me at the realization that I’m paired with Ryan.

“What does the winner get?” Jordan asks, and my ears perk up.

No matter how stupid the game is, both of us are going to do our best to win. Being twins, it’s in our blood. We’ve been competing since before we took our first breaths, and I’d be damned to let her win The Simms-Owens First Annual Beach Games.

“Bragging rights,” Dad states.

Truthfully, I don’t give a shit about the reward. I only want to win. Maybe that was Dad’s plan all along. Maybe he knew it was the perfect way to ensure his daughters’ complete devotion to his silly idea. But it doesn’t matter, since both Jordan and I have our game faces on already.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Ryan

I glance at Paige as she narrows her eyes and nibbles on her bottom lip, listening to the instructions with rapt focus. It’s a contrast to the frazzled look she sported after I took my shirt off. My chest puffs at the memory. There was heat in her eyes, there’s no doubt about it. A heat that was reciprocated after she took off the robe that covered pretty much her whole body. Her green bikini consists of two small triangles acting as the top and high-waisted bottoms that do wonders for her figure.

I tried jumping straight into the ocean, hoping the cool water would help with my bulging Bermuda shorts, but the water is hotter than what I shower with at home. Luckily, this insane Survivor rip off intro was enough to deflate my dick. Why are they acting like this is perfectly normal? I try to connect my gaze with Mom’s to find some common ground in this obviously crazy family, but she doesn’t look away from Roger for a second, staring at him with a wide grin on her face.

“The first game is a classic egg relay race,” Anthony tells us.

There’s a curve on his whiskered upper lip, and I’m guessing this must be a fun day on the job. The other two crew members extract multiple items from the mysterious leather chest perched on the beach and start placing the cones for the race.