My cautious eyes tracked the man as he strutted by us. I half expected him to stop in front of Chelsea, but he didn’t even slow his steps before he dove into the pool. When he swam up beside Maisey and planted a fat kiss on her mouth, I swore my entire body exhaled.
I turned back to Chelsea to find her watching me with an amused purse of her lips. “That’s Maisey’s husband, Roger.”
Swallowing, I shrugged my shoulder to tell Chelsea the information didn’t serve me in the slightest. “Very well.”
Chelsea’s laughter was light. “You sure? Because you looked worried for a minute there.”
I tilted my head and pulled my sunglasses from my head. “Did I? I can’t imagine why.”
She mocked me with a shrug of her own, the playful smile never leaving her gorgeous face. “If you say so.” Then she brushed past me, her plump arse barely gliding against my front, and took a seat on a lounge chair.
Chelsea looked to be in her own world as she picked up a blue notebook and pen that sat beside her. A moment later, she was scribbling away like she’d been struck with a story idea.
I dove into the pool, careful to stay away from Chelsea’s friends, who were making out in the shallow end, and swam enough lengths for my lungs to feel like they were bursting.
I pushed myself out of the water and sat on the edge, trying to catch my breath. When I looked up, I found all three pairs of eyes on me. Roger pointed a finger at me, and for a second, I thought he might have recognized me from British Bachelor.
“Dude. You’re Liam Colborn.”
Shit. Just like that, my pounding heart sank with the weight of being found out. “Um,” I started, my eyes darting to Chelsea. How am I going to explain this one to her without her hating me just like the others?
Roger’s eyes widened when he realized he was correct. “It is you.”
He stood up straight and pointed his finger at me again. I didn’t know if the finger-pointing gesture was an American thing, but it felt bloody rude.
Then Roger’s booming voice started up again. “Eight-time individual gold medalist in two summer Olympics, not to mention a shit ton of group medals. Dude, I was obsessed with your career back in the day. What the hell happened to you?”
Laughter escaped my throat as relief flooded my veins. I found myself pleasantly surprised to be recognized for something other than being a playboy reality star. Lifting my hands and shoulders, I grinned. “I timed out, I guess. Two Olympics were plenty enough for me. I didn’t think anyone would remember that.” I flashed him a smile.
“You were ridiculous in the water. You are the reason I took up swimming in high school. I wanted to be you, man.”
“Thank you, mate.” While his comments were flattering, they were starting to make me feel old. Roger couldn’t be more than four years younger than I. I had only been sixteen at my first Olympic swim meet, but so much time had passed since then.
“I just knew it was you when you started swimming those laps.” Roger glanced between Chelsea and me, appearing confused. “Are you friends with Chelsea? How have we not met until now?”
I saw Chelsea watching us in my peripheral, and when Roger called her out, she stepped forward to the edge of the pool before sitting and sticking her legs in. “He’s a friend of Simon’s, his houseguest.” Chelsea turned to me. “Don’t mind Roger. He’s a little obsessive when it comes to water sports.”
“Ah, shit,” Maisey said as she pulled herself up to sit on her raft. “I hate to ruin the party, but Roger and I have to go.” She turned to Roger. “We have to leave soon to meet your parents at the yacht club.”
Maisey exited the pool first, and Roger followed her. They disappeared into Chelsea’s pool house, then it was just the woman in the yellow bikini and me.
“Working on your tan?” I called from across the pool.
She smiled and slipped into the pool. “Something like that.”
I sank back into the water, too, keeping my distance so we were still at completely different ends. “I was thinking,” I said, moving toward my beer waiting for me at the edge of the pool. “If I’m going to draw you some body art, I should get to know you a wee bit better.”
Chelsea walked her way to the four-foot section of the pool, leaving a foot of her above the water to where I could just see the top of her cleavage. “That sounds a bit one-sided if you ask me.”
“Well, you’re not making me body art, now are you?”
“I could.”
I chuckled. “I’m afraid I wouldn’t let you draw my art if my life depended on it.”
She grinned. “Fine, but I won’t give up information freely. For everything you learn about me, you have to tell me something about you.”
That plan didn’t sound entirely threatening, though I wasn’t thinking straight at the sight of her, especially when it was still in the back of mind that she could have seen me wanking off earlier. “Deal.”
“Yeah?” Her eyes lit up as she stepped toward me in the pool.
It was instinct that made me meet her in the middle. “Yeah,” I said. “Let’s start now.” She was an inch in front of me, her head only reaching my chest, and I had the strong desire to lift her tight body and wrap those slim legs around my waist. “First question,” I said instead. “What were you writing in that notebook of yours?”
I loved that her face flushed every time I asked her something personal.
“I told you I like to write.”
“Yes. But you didn’t tell me what you like to write.”
“Does it matter?”
I shrugged. “Depends if you want a tattoo of the Cat in the Hat or Fabio.”
She laughed hard and deep, and I couldn’t help but notice the way her entire face lit up with it. “Funny,” she finally said. “But…” She seemed to think twice about what she was going to say before finally spitting out, “It would be closer to the Fabio version, I suppose.”
My jaw fell open. I was half-shocked that she actually admitted that to me and half-amused that the nanny was spending her free time conjuring up sex scenes.
“Like that book you let me borrow, Dangerous Hearts?”
“Similar but different.”
I chuckled. “You write porn.”
Her hand flew out and smacked me in the arm. “No, I do not write porn. I write romance, love stories with steamy situations that move the story along. Nothing gratuitous, I assure you.”
My grin stretched with her words. “Steamy situations?”
Her cheeks turned a deeper shade of red. “Never mind. Can we change the subject? Or swim? Isn’t that what you came here to do?”
I shrugged. “I got my laps in. Now I’m just here to hang out with you.”
She rolled her eyes. “Charming. But I’m getting out of the water.”
With that, Chelsea pushed up over the edge, giving me a nice view of her arse once more. I didn’t want to look away, but when I heard the door to Chelsea’s pool house open, I averted my gaze so fast that I got a wee bit dizzy.
“We’re out of here,” Maisey called before hugging her friend. “Lunch later this week?”
Chelsea nodded then leaned in to hug Roger too. For the second time that day, I was jealous of the bloke who got to touch her, especially when she was wearing close to nothing.