Diving In

by Kristina Mathews

  “Hey, it’s okay,” one of the guys said. “The water’s a little high for good fishing, anyway.”

  “We caught something much better.” His brother smiled and spoke with a light-hearted tone. He was definitely flirting with her. She remembered flirting. It’s what her ex had done with every woman but her.

  “Tell me again who’s who.” They’d reached the end of the trail. Lily was trying to keep them straight, knowing it must be hard to be constantly mistaken for your twin.

  “I’m Cody, the good-looking one.” The first brother flashed his dimples and smoothed back his blond hair in an over-the-top, I-know-I’m-good-looking way.

  “Yeah? When was the last time you got a haircut, you hippie?” His brother gave him a friendly shove. Lily’s gaze strayed to his wet shorts. He’d been the one to jump in the water after her. He’d been the one to really save her life. She shivered at the thought. And at the way the damp fabric clung to his muscular thighs.

  “At least I don’t look like an escapee from boot camp, like Carson here.” Cody snapped to attention and offered a salute.

  “I like it short.” Carson sounded a little offended. “Besides, my hair’s so thick if I go more than four or five weeks without a trim, I have to put stuff in it.”

  “And it would just run out into the river, poisoning the fish.” Cody recited the words like scolded schoolboy. “Lighten up, man.”

  “So I care about what gets washed into the river.” Carson shook his head and chuckled. “You only care about what you pull out.”

  “Hey, at least I catch something once in a while.”

  “I’m not talking about the fish.”

  They teased each other, but there was genuine affection in their banter. Lily envied their closeness. As an only child, she’d envisioned a large family of her own someday. Three, maybe four kids running through the house. Walking down to Fairy Tale Town or the Sacramento Zoo. Baking cookies and hanging their artwork on the refrigerator door. The only thing hanging on her refrigerator now was an appointment card for Foothills Fertility Clinic.

  She followed the twins to a white double-cab Toyota truck. Carson clicked open the locks and held the front passenger door for her. He offered his arm to help her climb up into the cab. A jolt, almost as startling as the icy-cold water, shot straight through her.

  How long had it been since she’d been touched, really touched, by a man? For the last few years, sex had been entirely clinical. An act of procreation—and desperation—that had nothing to do with intimacy.

  But he hadn’t really touched her. Not like that. He was only trying to help. Like he’d been trying to help when he pulled her against him. And he was only trying to help when he’d touched her breast. Lily wasn’t going to read anything into it. She didn’t need a man. She definitely didn’t need two of them.

  Carson went around to the driver’s side and Cody slid into the backseat. Lily clicked her seatbelt in place. If only she could restrain her nerves so easily.

  “So tell me.” She turned so she could converse with both of them. “What do you two do when you’re not rescuing topless women?”

  Masculine laughter filled the cab. The deep, rich sound warmed Lily from the inside out. Carson started the ignition and turned the heater on full blast, to warm her on the outside.

  “We run Swift River Adventures, a rafting company out of Prospector Springs.” Carson’s smile showed a man who took pride in his work.

  “It’s not far from where gold was first discovered in California.” Cody leaned forward, inching closer, making her aware that there was entirely too much testosterone in this tiny space. They were big men. Strong men. Very good-looking men.

  It took twice as long to drive to the cabin as it had for her to float downstream. At last, she was home. Home. Even if it was only temporary.

  “Nice place.” Carson shut off the engine and turned toward her. His eyes were as warm, and as blue, as a summer’s day. “Are you renting for the summer?”

  “Nope. It’s mine.” She was still getting used to the idea. “All mine.”

  “Is it a vacation cabin?” Cody asked from the backseat.

  “Not exactly.” Lily turned to find Cody’s eyes were just as startling and blue as his brother’s. “My house in Sacramento sold a lot quicker than I anticipated. So this is home. Until I figure out where I want to end up.”

  “Well, I’m glad you’re here now.” Carson’s voice was slightly lower than Cody’s, without the teasing note. She just hoped she’d be able to find other ways to tell the two of them apart. They both wore faded khaki shorts, complicated athletic sandals, and nothing else. Carson had tossed his wet shirt in the back of his truck and she was still wearing Cody’s.

  “So, Lily.” Cody didn’t seem to want his brother to get the last word in. “What do you do when you’re not charming the shirts off a couple of fishermen?”

  “I’m an accountant.” Or she had been.

  “No way.” Cody leaned forward again. “You’re much too interesting to be an accountant.”

  “I think that was supposed to be a compliment.” Carson shot his brother a disapproving look. “What kind of accounting?

  “I don’t have my CPA license.” Lily was making excuses again. Focusing on what she lacked, not what she could do. “I do general bookkeeping, payroll, just about anything except income taxes. But my company decided to outsource my duties, so here I am.”

  She exited the truck and approached the front porch steps. Both men followed her across the wraparound deck and through the front door of the two-story cabin. The place had been built in the 1940s, when things were made to last. The floors were well-worn oak planks, the fireplace had been built with rocks gathered from the area, and a large picture window overlooked the river below. Three bedrooms, plus a loft, would provide plenty of space for the large family Lily still hoped to bring back here someday.

  They entered the bright, spacious kitchen, with its knotty-pine cabinets, butcher-block counters, and a large cast iron sink big enough to bathe small children in. Lily had so many dreams for this place. None of them involved being divorced, jobless, and alone.

  “Do you have any tea?” Carson eyed the kettle on the back burner of the gas stove. “Or hot chocolate? Something to warm you up?”

  “How about some whiskey?” Cody suggested. His grin made her somehow think of those old cartoons with the big St. Bernard lumbering through the snow with a barrel of whiskey on his collar.

  “Um, yeah. Tea bags are in the cabinet over the stove. There’s beer in the fridge.” Lily pointed to the old-fashioned Frigidaire. Not the most energy efficient appliance, but it reminded her of a simpler time. Back then, fresh fruits and vegetables replaced microwave popcorn as a snack. Cupcakes were made at home, not ordered online and delivered to your door. And families were created when a man and a woman loved each other very much and wanted to share that love with a child. It didn’t take a credit check or a series of lab tests. “Make yourselves at home while I go change.”

  “You should take a long, hot shower,” Carson suggested. His voice warmed her and made her shiver at the same time.

  “Are you offering to wash my back?” The words just slipped out. She wasn’t the kind of woman who traded suggestive comments with a man she’d just met. She’d never even made that kind of statement to her ex-husband.

  “He doesn’t have the skills.” Cody stepped closer, invading her space. “But I’m very skilled.” He lowered his gaze to her chest and licked his lips subconsciously. Or maybe it was on purpose. He seemed like the kind of man who knew exactly what he was doing when it came to women.

  “Sometimes it takes more than skill.” Carson shot his brother a disapproving look. Oh dear, they were fighting over her. Not fighting really, just competing for her attention. She should warn them that she’d vowed to go the rest of her life without ever havin
g sex again. She’d spent the last few years with pillows propped under her hips every Tuesday and Friday from 10:15 to approximately 10:27. All for nothing.

  Water under the bridge. Over the dam. Spilled out into the ocean by now.

  She closed the bathroom door and slipped the oversized T-shirt over her head, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror. A large bruise bloomed along her left side, stopping just below her breast. More bruises appeared along her hip and back. Tears stung her eyes as she realized just how lucky she was that Carson and Cody had decided to go fishing that day.

  “I’m going to fix you a cup of tea,” one of the twins said through the door. “Do you need any help in there?”

  “No, I got it.” Lily tried to make her voice as strong as possible. She didn’t want whoever it was to think she was weak.

  “Just checking.” His voice was strong, steady, and very sexy. “Let me know if you need anything. Despite what Cody says, I’m very good at washing backs.”

  It was Carson. Her heart fluttered as she remembered the feel of his arms around her. His hand on her breast. The way he’d pressed against her, trying to warm her up. He was so solid, rock hard arms, chest, and well, if that was shrinkage…

  She turned on the shower. It would take a few minutes to warm up. The water, that is. She was already warm in all the wrong places. Maybe she should take a cold shower instead. Like that would help get her mind off the two hunks in her house. Either one of them was twice the man Brian was. And put together? She shuddered as she stepped under the hot water.

  The warm spray did wonders to release the tension in her body. It wasn’t just the day’s events, but the last eight months of stress that she needed to wash down the drain. She had turned thirty wondering why it was such a big deal. She had a good job, a nice house in a desirable neighborhood, and a smart, successful husband to share her life with. The only thing missing was a baby. They had been working on that.

  But then she’d lost her job. No big deal. They didn’t need the money. She was going to quit when she got pregnant anyway. But they had been trying for three years. Two years longer than most people waited to get tested. The results were more than disappointing. It had been the final straw that had broken the overstrained backbone of their marriage.

  Damn. She must have gotten shampoo in her eyes. The stinging sensation couldn’t possibly be tears. She had nothing to cry about. She was alive. That had to count for something. She still had plenty of time to have a baby. She had options. Maybe even right there in her living room.

  Stop. Don’t go there.

  She wasn’t desperate. Gone were the days when only a married couple was given a chance at having children. She could probably even adopt, if it turned out that Brian wasn’t the only one with fertility problems.

  With a little effort, Lily managed to dress after her shower. A bra was out of the question, considering the bruises on her side. The guys had already seen her girls in all their glory, so she slipped on a dark green T-shirt, hoping she wasn’t asking for trouble. She’d just have to go out there and be herself. If only she knew who that was.

  That’s what she’d come up here for. To live life on her own terms. And that meant taking one step at a time, starting with marching into the kitchen where her rescuers were waiting.

  “Oh, good. You’re both still here.” Lily put on a brave smile. “I’m not sure how to thank you. For everything.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Carson handed her a cup of tea. “We’re just glad we could help.”

  “I could make you dinner. Or something.” Lily tried to think if she had enough food for three.

  “No. That’s okay,” Carson was quick to decline. “You should get some rest.”

  “We could light your fire,” Cody offered, and his brother gave him a quick elbow to the ribs. “In the fireplace. To make sure you stay warm.”

  “Oh, that’s not necessary.” She wasn’t sure if Cody was trying to be funny, but the way Carson glared at him made her suspect that Cody’s over-the-top flirtation was a sore subject between them.

  “Is there anything else you need?” Carson’s concern was a little overwhelming. She needed to get a grip on her emotions. Her hormones. All she had to do was finish her tea and thank them for saving her life. She wasn’t looking to create a new life with either of them.

  Meet the Author

  Kristina Mathews doesn’t remember a time when she didn’t have a book in her hand. Or in her head. Kristina lives in Northern California with her husband of twenty years, two sons, and a black lab. She is a veteran road-tripper, amateur renovator, and sports fanatic. She hopes to one day travel all 3,073 miles of Highway 50 from Sacramento, CA, to Ocean City, MD, replace her carpet with hardwood floors, and throw out the first pitch for the San Francisco Giants. Visit her on the web at kristinamathews.com.