working today. His fiancée owns Temple Territory and they have their own pool event going on over there this afternoon.”
“Oh.” Carrie’s face fell. “I hadn’t heard he was engaged.”
“What did you expect, that he’d wait on you for ten more years?” Meg taunted.
“No, but I was at least hoping to see him while he was still available. The Cowboy Chef is a hottie patottie.”
“Hey! He’s my identical twin so I assume that makes me hot, too, huh?” Cullen held his arms wide, waiting for a compliment.
“I meant hot in a television sort of way. Your look is more...” Carrie paused, not wanting to dig the hole deeper.
“Rustic?”
“Exactly!”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Your word, not mine.”
“I wanna see Rocket!” Hope danced with excitement, the ruffles on her swimsuit cover-up jiggling to her imagined beat.
“Let him loose, Joiner!” Cullen called down the hallway.
Seconds later the golden-haired pup came flying through the doorway, skinny legs a flurry of speed, mouth wide in a doggy grin as he hit Hope with big front paws and knocked her to the ground.
“He remembers me!” she shouted, and then burst into shrieks of laughter, assuring Cullen she’d survived the impact. Meg and Carrie joined the calamity on the ground, rolling in the warm, summer grass, taking turns letting Rocket plant wet, joyful kisses on their faces.
Cullen watched, fascinated by the moment of sweet innocence and pure play, trying to remember a day when he’d been so young, so unafraid.
Trying to remember what life had felt like before PTSD.
Before he started cutting himself.
SARAH STRUGGLED TO concentrate on what Cullen was saying about his lecture plans for the coming week. Between watching her girls splashing in the pool and worrying whether she should be helping Alma and Joiner in the kitchen, she was far too distracted to dive into subjects of historical importance with Cullen.
What Sarah really wanted to do was dive into the cool depths, but her host seemed content to sit in the shade. So when Cullen and Rocket went inside for a pitcher of lemonade, she quickly slipped off her Bermuda shorts, perched near the Gunite steps and let her feet dangle in the blue, blue water.
“Get in with us, Mama,” Hope coaxed from the shallows, safe in her Pretty Princess swim vest.
“This is enough for now, maybe later.”
It didn’t seem appropriate to take off her T-shirt and get in when Cullen showed no interest, even with the girls taunting him. The puppy stayed hot on his master’s heels and was also quite content to stay clear of the water, his pink belly exposed as he stretched out, napping in the short grass.
“But we should have four people for games and races.”
“Will I do?”
Heads turned as Joiner stepped out onto the patio wearing surfer-style, knee-length trunks. The loud, floral print so popular in decades past was making a comeback, and on Joiner’s trim body Sarah could certainly see the appeal of the low-riding garment.
“You’re on my team!” Hope called.
“We should toss a coin to decide whose team he’s on,” Meg insisted.
“How about if we just toss you on your pointed head instead?” Carrie cupped her hand and splashed her sister.
“Now, now, ladies. There’s no need to fight over me when you can take turns instead,” Joiner teased as he closed the door behind him and then walked the perimeter of the pool before stepping up onto the diving board. “I have enough energy for several rounds of competition, if you’re up to it.”
“Make a big splash!” Hope screamed, delighted with the new development.
Joiner bounced twice, the board bending beneath his weight as he balanced on the balls of his feet. Finally he took a high leap and gracefully folded at the waist in the classic jackknife position. But instead of stretching his body to make a clean entry, he tucked into a tight ball and slammed into the water cannonball style, the impact sending sprays arching in every direction.
The girls shrieked and shielded their faces from the unexpected soaking.
“Was that splash big enough for you?” Joiner asked after he surfaced next to Hope.
Her playful response was to kick water in his face.
When he karate-chopped the surface with the edge of his hand in reply, the battle began in earnest―three sisters against Cullen’s brother in a contest for who could launch the strongest torrent in the other’s direction. The girls held their own quite well.
Sarah jumped to her feet and retreated to the table just out of reach of the wet madness.
The glass patio door slid wide once more and Cullen stepped through carrying a tray of plastic cups, a tall pitcher and a bowl overflowing with snack mix.
“Let me guess.” He settled the tray on the tabletop. “Joiner did his special dive for them?”
“It was extremely impressive.” Sarah filled the cups of ice with the tart drink she’d seen Alma lovingly squeeze from fresh lemons.
“And extremely effective—if your intention is to empty half the pool in one motion. There goes my water bill.”
Rocket wandered over to retrieve a bit of pretzel that had found its way to the grass.
“Ladies, how about taking a break?” she called.
Hope climbed the steps, deposited her Pretty Princess vest beside the pool and dripped her way to the table.
“Look, Mama.” She held her palm outward. “My fingers are all raisiny.”
“That happens when they get waterlogged. Catch your breath and have a snack and they’ll plump up again in no time.”
Meg and Carrie joined the table while Joiner began to swim laps, his body slicing through the water in sure, confident motions.
“If you hadn’t noticed, Joiner’s the swimmer in the family.”
“Did you have a pool when you were a kid?” Meg asked over a mouthful of the salty snack mix.
“No, but we had a membership to the YMCA. We all had lessons, but Joiner was the only one who really took to the water. Hunt and I prefer the baseball diamond, and for Mac it’s the golf course.”
“My mom says golf is a waste of time and money invented for the purpose of keeping a husband away from his wife’s honey-do list,” Sarah shared.
“I continue to be impressed with your mother’s wisdom.” Cullen smiled and raised his red Solo cup in salute.
“Do you cover up because your skin burns really badly?” Meg pointed to Cullen’s lightweight khakis and long sleeve T-shirt on such a perfect summer day.
“He fries worse than bacon on a hot skillet and he’s really hairy and gross underneath his clothes,” Joiner answered as he approached the table. He stood next to Hope and, to her delight, shook like a dog, flinging drops of water in every direction.
“You wanna learn to swim without that floatie thing?”
“Can I?” Hope turned wide eyes to her mother for permission.
“Joiner, you’re kind to offer but we can’t trouble two Temple men this weekend.”
“Let him