The Secret: A Forbidden Love Romance (Magnolia Grove Book 4)

by J. B. McGee

  He splashes water across the pool at me, and I bounce back at the initial shock, refusing to acknowledge the way it soothes my scorching skin—not from the sun this time, but from Holden. “What the heck?” I grumble.

  He wades through the water until his bulging biceps are draped over the concrete lip of the pool, his shoulders perfectly sculpted.

  God, I love his shoulders.

  His lips twist a bit, his eyes the same color as the gleaming water. “You looked like you could use some cooling down.”

  I cross my arms, try to speak, but my mouth’s too dry despite every other part of me being wet, and not just from the splash, but from all the thoughts going through my mind about Holden Masters. Finally, I swallow. “So, you think I’m hot?”

  He stares at me, his expression unfazed, still grinning and looking totally full of himself. “Just thought I saw flames coming from your eyes as you stared at me a second ago.”

  “You’re so cocky.”

  He gives me a little nod. “I’ll take that as a compliment. There are worse things to be.” He pats the concrete, then pushes off and disappears under the water. His body does a little flip, and I watch as he swims back to Brody.

  I catch my ragged breath, shake my head, and will myself to get far, far away from Holden Masters. But Holden’s right about one thing. My body’s so hot I swear smoke is probably bouncing off it. I glance at Amie, and her gaze averts from Wells, thank God, to Brody. “Rein in the drool, babe.” I loop my arm in hers. “Boys are stupid. Especially those three.” That’s what I plan on telling myself every time I think of Holden Masters. “Let’s go find chairs and get our tan on.”

  Because I need time for my heart rate to normalize. Because I need distance from Holden. Because I can’t think clearly enough around him. Why? How? How’s he managed to basically render me speechless? And while he’s always picked on me, this is a different level of whatever the hell our friendship is. This is intense. This is a chemical reaction. This. Is. Chemistry. And holy hell are we acing it.

  After we find chairs, I lie down and close my eyes, drifting off into that in between sleep. The kind where the buzz of life happening around me is still audible, but it’s only background noise to the daydreams that flutter through my mind. No matter how much I try to control what plays against the blackness of the backs of my eyelids, it’s useless. The only scenarios that act themselves out in this fantasy land involve Holden.

  And that smirk.

  And those arms.

  Wrapped around me.

  His deep voice vibrating against my skin, his lips pressing against me before he spins me around and makes his way down to my breasts, my body smoldering, aching for a new kind of relief I don’t even know how to obtain. Drops of water drip down me. I squint one eye open. There he is in all his half-naked glory, like he’s able to read my mind and knows everything I was just thinking. Am I really looking at him, or is this just part of the dream?

  Before I can answer, arms are under my body, which propels me over his shoulder. I inhale sharply at my hot skin against his wet torso. “Put me down!”

  He chuckles, but doesn’t make a move as Amie screams. “Brody, so help me if you don’t put me down, I’m going to…I’m going to…”

  “Ready?” Holden asks.

  “No,” I hiss as I slap his back, making every effort to avoid his butt. It’s solid as steel, slick, and I curse myself as I inhale for a moment, wondering how he smells good even after having been in the pool long enough for his fingers to feel pruned against the backs of my thighs. I know it sounds stupid, but I like the way the pool, sweat, and sunscreen smell. Especially on Holden. My current view’s spectacular too. I want to touch him in all the places I can reach, to have my hands on him the way he does on me, but I can’t muster the courage. “Put. Me. Down. Masters.”

  He doesn’t acknowledge me one way or another. I just feel his head turn and nod toward Amie’s chair against my side. “Let’s do this.”

  “Do what?” Amie asks.

  I don’t waste my breath, having a pretty good inclination as to what’s coming.

  We’re about to get soaked whether we want to, or not.

  “This!” Holden screams, tossing me into the deep end of the pool. I take a quick breath before breaking the surface. My arms and legs instinctively go into motion as I swim toward the light. Once my head is up, I brush my hair back, using my feet to keep me from sinking to the bottom. Just as my vision adjusts from the sting of the chlorine, Holden jumps in, making a splash that spews water right back into my face, burning as it travels up my nose. I start to swim toward the opposite side. I don’t even need a ladder or steps. I have every intention of propelling myself out of this pool with my own arm muscles as I brace the concrete. At least, that’s my plan before I get a glimpse of Wells and Violet.

  My brother kissing Holden’s sister. What. The. Heck?

  Before I can say anything, arms are around my exposed waist, lips near my ear. “Now just where exactly do you think you’re going?”

  I freeze, chills erupting over every inch of me. I’m not sure if it’s because of the shock of the water, although it was refreshing when he threw me in, or from the warm air he’s breathing against my now cool skin. I suck in a breath and try to slow my breathing. “Ew. Wells is sucking Violet’s face off. Shouldn’t you go kick his ass? Or do something, anything, other than harass me?”

  He lets out a small laugh. “Nice try, but there’s no one I’d rather be annoying more than you.” With that, I hear a popping noise and a wet finger is suddenly wiggling around in my ear. I squirm out of his one-armed grip. At the first chance, I dive under the water. Even though I’ve been taught for as long as I can remember not to open my eyes in the pool, on my way up, that’s exactly what I do. I get a glimpse of Holden’s body circling around me like a shark waiting to attack its prey. Is that what I am to him? His eyes are open too. Our intense gazes catch each other, but I’m quickly running out of air in my lungs. I maintain my view of him until I float back up to the top. He follows me. When our heads are above the water, I gasp, recovering from the breath I’ve been holding. Pedaling my feet, I wipe my eyes with my fists.

  “Cam,” he says.

  The air’s thick, but I don’t think it’s from the humidity. Whatever it is, is the same thing that has had me nearly squirming since I saw him smirking—since the moment I first saw him today.

  He moves his arms from front to back, propelling himself closer to me. So. Close. My heart’s racing.

  “Yeah?”

  He leans in, and I bite my bottom lip. I read in a magazine somewhere that’s supposed to let a guy know you want to be kissed. And I’m not sure if I do, or not, but I just bite harder because the water’s dripping off those shoulders, and suddenly I’m so thirsty.

  The thought of Holden kissing me, the split second I allow myself to think about liking it, freaks me out. Yet, here I am with every ability to get away—to go under, swim away, splash him—the possibilities to avoid this being endless. Okay, so maybe nearly endless. Regardless, the only parts of me that move are my arms and feet to maintain my current position in the pool. It’s like I’m riding a stationary bike. I don’t inch toward him, but I certainly don’t back away, either.

  He reaches his hand out like he’s about to caress my cheek. God, this is like a scene from a movie. I finally get the frame of mind to let out the breath I’m holding and swallow. He can’t do this—look at me like this, touch me like that, and I certainly can’t be thinking the thoughts running through my mind. My body’s betraying me, and it’s time I finally do something about it.

  I swipe his hand away. “What are you doing, Masters?”

  His cheek lifts, tugging the corner of his mouth into that sexy crooked grin he’s perfected over recent years. “You have snot coming out of your nose.”

  “Do not!” The racing beats in my chest turn into gallops. “And what? You were going to wipe it off for me?” I roll my eyes. “Why
would you say that? Oh, I know. Because you’re trying to cover up the fact you wanted to kiss me—that I rejected you.”

  He lets out a boisterous laugh. “Cam, it’s easy enough to figure out. Run your own finger under your nose.”

  I squint my eyes while doing exactly what he suggested and thinking about how much I hate Holden Masters. How I hate him, yet I’m so confused at the fact I’m pretty sure I’m disappointed he didn’t kiss me or want to for that matter. So many emotions, I’m not even sure I can name them all.

  Or maybe it’s embarrassment because he’s right. Sliminess spreads across the area above my lip as my fingers move. My eyes widen, and he tosses his head back as his laugh only grows louder.

  I take a deep breath and plunge back down into the water, his rolling chuckle still faintly audible until I’ve put enough distance between us so that it isn’t anymore. Simultaneously, I fan my arms out, spreading my legs apart, then bring both back together again, then repeat it as fast as I can so I won’t have to come up for a breath. Finally, I make it to the steps of the shallow end. I wipe my nose well this time, then pop up. After I catch my breath, I dip my head back to smooth my hair before exiting the pool. Not once do I ever look back at Holden Masters.

  Over the course of the rest of the afternoon, I try to pretend I don’t feel more than friendship for him—that it was purely hormones in the pool—that I’d feel that way for anyone. While he annoys me, frustrates me, the feeling I can’t even look at him is killing me. And I’m not even sure why I’m torturing myself by ignoring him.

  The sense of someone looking at me has nearly been a constant since I swam away from him. It’s like his eyes were on me the entire time I was in the pool, a predator stalking its prey. Another thing I’m unsure about. Whether the heat that enveloped my body as I climbed each stair out of the pool was from the sun or him.

  Every now and again, I’m tempted to get back in to cool myself off from the same intense whatever’s been happening to me today, but instead I ask Amie to get me a cup of ice water so I can sprinkle it on my sweltering body. Too bad I can’t sprinkle it on my heart and mind.

  Unlike before, when Holden took it upon himself to throw me in, he has maintained his own game of the silent treatment. The only way I know he’s still here is from the heat of his occasional gaze, the fluttering of my heart, and his laughter.

  I hate his laugh. That’s what I tell myself, but regardless, it combined with the sun soothes me back into that in between sleep I love so much with dreams that are once again filled with him for some idiotic reason.

  Water splashes against my scorching skin, and I peek my eyes open, expecting to see Holden or Wells, but it’s Brody. And he’s not looking at me. He’s got this cheesy grin on his face, and he keeps flicking his wrist, flinging water on Amie—and ultimately me because I’m right next to her. Ugh. “If you like her, Brody, you should just say so. The way to a girl’s heart isn’t by water attacks.”

  His grin widens, but he never looks at me. “I like you, Amie,” he says. Then he flicks his wrist again, this time sending a huge splash in our direction. “Do you like me?”

  She narrows her eyes and shakes her head. I can’t believe what I’m seeing. Is he actually serious? Is she turning him down after he had the guts to admit that? Amie gets out of the chair and saunters the few steps to where she’s standing over him. Wells and Violet are so caught up in themselves, it’s like they aren’t even here. “No,” Amie says.

  Whoa. Wow. Harsh.

  Just like so many other times, the intense feeling of a stare distracts me from the two of them. Holden’s head is barely above the surface as he slowly swims toward the shallow end. When our eyes connect, he makes no effort to hide the fact he’s been gazing at me. He doesn’t look away. He doesn’t blush. When he gets beside Brody, he rests his arms on the concrete and gives me a lopsided smile. My insides quiver. And all of it pisses me off. Why does he have to be so gorgeous? Why is he playing games with me? I get up and tap Amie on the shoulder. We’re both standing in front of these respective fools who have been our friends, but have apparently become traitors the older they get—who seem to want to annoy us more than usual. “Let’s go watch a movie. They’re bored, so they’re playing a game. We’re their pawns.”

  Amie crosses her arms. “I never really liked board games.”

  Brody laughs. “I knew it! You’re more of a Twister kind of girl, aren’t you?”

  Ugh. Huffing, I cross my arms, too, in a show of solidarity.

  Holden puts his hands around my ankles just as I’m about to walk away. “What kind of game do you think I’m playing with you?”

  I close my eyes a second. “Easy. Marco Polo.”

  He laughs. “Um, you know that game actually requires you to be in the water, right?”

  He starts to tug. No. He’s not pulling me in again. “Holden!”

  He gives me a little laugh. “Why do you think it’s Marco Polo?”

  I lick my lips, the sun having dried them out. I can’t believe I just said that, and now he’s going to run with it. “You really need me to spell it out for you?”

  “Oh, I don’t need you to, but I just want to hear you say it.”

  “Say what?”

  He narrows his eyes a bit, then jerks me back into the water. When I come up for air, his hands skim my butt before sliding up my sides, and instead of the pool cooling me down, my insides are on the verge of spontaneous combustion. No, not spontaneous. Just combustion. I splash him. “Why do you keep doing that?”

  “Doing what?”

  “Throwing me or pulling me into the pool?”

  “Because you’re supposed to be in the water. That’s the point of being here.”

  “No, the point of being here is to get a tan. The pool is for when it gets too hot to handle—to cool me down.”

  He chews on the bottom corner of his lip and it’s like his eyes are mirror balls, the light from the sun and the pool reflecting off them. “How’s that working out for you?”

  I glance away, but make no effort to get out of his arms, to break the contact. “What are you doing?” The words come out breathy and too soft. Too seductive. He rubs his hands against my back. They almost make it down to the base of my spine, and I’m paralyzed. There’s no way I could stop him if I wanted to, but that’s the thing. I’m not sure I want to. Stop him, that is.

  “I just needed to get you in here so I could do this.”

  Oh God. He’s going to kiss me. What are we doing? My breath hitches. “Holden…”

  He ducks under the water and puts his head between my legs.

  “Ahh.” I scream, grabbing his head to stabilize myself. “Holden Jaxon Masters!”

  He pops his head up, and I’m completely out of the water, my legs wrapping around him. Everything in me is heightened in fact. At this exact moment, Brody pulls Amie in the water and does the same thing to her. She screams. Holden backs away, keeping us safe, keeping me from having to fight my best friend. He tilts his head back and up, and it is a heady feeling to be connected to him, to be in this intimate position looking down at those dark lashes, dark eyebrows, and those light beautiful blue eyes. “I was thinking our game is more along the lines of Chicken Fighting. But I’m willing to compromise. What if it’s Marco Polo Chicken Fighting? Close your eyes.”

  “You first.” I glance up at Amie and Brody.

  They shrug, then close theirs.

  Holden’s lids flutter as he grasps my legs tighter, his thumb rubbing circles. I’m so glad I shaved today. I take a deep breath as he finally submits to my request.

  He squeezes me. “You’re the last one to close your eyes, so if we get accused of cheating, that’s all on you.”

  “They could just as easily open theirs. Besides, I’m not a cheater.”

  Everyone laughs because I do cheat on all the board games. I do peek when we play Marco Polo. I do play dirty when we chicken fight. But never has it felt like it does today. Never have I wanted t
o be right where I am more than I do right now.

  “I’m not going to cheat this time. Marco,” I say.

  “Polo,” Amie replies.

  My hands are out, moving around from front to back.

  Holden grumbles. “You act like you’re being attacked, and I don’t even think they’re close to us. And besides, if we make noise, they’re gonna find us. Chill.”

  “Says the dude whispering. Shhh.”

  He laughs. “This is why our game isn’t Marco Polo. We bicker too much. We can’t be quiet enough.”

  “Are you two going to shut up long enough to actually play right?” Amie asks.

  Holden’s shoulders shrug beneath me. “I hate Marco Polo, so I’d be fine with just chicken fighting. Can I open my eyes now, Cam?”

  I sigh. “Seriously, people?”

  “We’re opening our eyes. Be ready, though, because you’re going down,” Brody hollers.

  When I open my eyes, Holden’s backing us away from them. “You ready, Cam?”

  “I guess.”

  “We have a title to defend. Take your pouty disappointment that I know our game better than you and use it to bring them down.”

  “Arg.” With that, Holden charges Brody, and my arms lock with Amie’s. We twist, turn, and laugh. We laugh so much my stomach aches. “Just give up already.” But really, I kind of hope she doesn’t. I like where I am. I like what we’re doing. And for a second, I allow myself to think I want more than this with Holden Masters. What. In. The. World. Is. Happening?

  When I successfully send Amie tumbling into the water, Holden pats my legs. “That’s my girl.”

  “Ew, Masters. I’m not your girl.”

  In an instant, I’m falling myself. Holden’s head is no longer between my legs. His hands aren’t on me. He’s swimming far away. And immediately, I regret saying what I just did. Because not even five seconds before that, it was exactly what I thought I wanted to hear. But we’re best friends, and this is scary and confusing as hell.