Honeybun Hottie (Plus Size Romance 5) by Lynn Cooper Page A

hell -to-the no! Have you lost your mind, Shelly? Why would I trade the crystal-blue, clear-chlorinated water of my pool for an algae-covered, mosquito-infested lake?”
    “You know why.  I didn’t want to pull the I-saved-your-life card, but you’ve left me no choice, Miss Dalton.”
    Blythe rolled her eyes.  Anytime she was determined to say no to Shelly, and anytime Shelly was determined to get her way, it always came back to their infamous walk to the library.  They had just graduated from the sixth-grade and were feeling their pre-teen oats.  So, when Shelly’s absent-minded Aunt Patsy didn’t show up to drive them downtown, the two girls decided to walk. 
    With their shoulders held back proudly, they had traversed the sidewalk through the middle of town.  As they were getting ready to cross the street, a squirrel dashed in front of them, causing Blythe to trip.  Consequently, she stumbled into the path of an oncoming car.  A second before she would have been struck, Shelly lunged forward and shoved Blythe to safety.  In the process, Shelly twisted her ankle so badly, it snapped her fibula.  She spent eight weeks with her foot in a cast.
    “Shelly, I’m pretty sure I’ve made that incident up to you about a cajillion times over the years.  I’d say we’re even now.”
    “We will be after this one last thing. I promise.  Please, Blythe—pretty please with pancake syrup on top.”
    “Oh, for land’s sake, alright.  But this is it Shelly! We’re square.  Got it?”
    Shelly’s high-pitched squeals of excitement had most assuredly cracked Blythe’s cochlea.  True, she was seeking a summer of quietness, but not in the form of deafness.
    “Got it. You want regret this, Bly.  I have it on good authority from Sean that our cabin by the lake is primo.  We are going to have so much fun!”
    “Hold the phone.  Sean? As in Corporal Warrington? The arrogant, testosterone-oozing marine you set me up with three months ago?”
    Blythe tore off another bite of honeybun with her teeth, ferociously chewing it like a lion ripping into a gazelle.  Shelly could be so damn maddening at times.  Especially when she meddled in another person’s love life—or lack of one.
    “First, Sean is a sergeant now.  Second, he really needs us, Bly.  He’s short-staffed and will have to cancel Camp Semper Fi’s first session of the season if we don’t come through for him.  It’ll be great.  I promise.  Besides, I’ve already signed us up.  You’re his counselor, and I’m the arts and crafts coordinator.  Yay!”
    “No.  No yay. I’m not going to be his anything, because I’m not going.”  The last thing Blythe wanted was to see the tall, dark and ruggedly handsome marine—the hotter than Haiti’s hunk who had left her splayed out in the mud, speechless and mortified.
    “You’ve already agreed.  No takesies backsies.”
    Blythe squeezed the remainder of her pastry so hard it squished between her fingers, which made her even madder.  There was nothing so devastating as the destruction of delicious doughy goodness.
    “Fine.  I’m nothing if not a woman of my word.  But write this down in your notebook, and then write it down again, sister—we are even!” 
     
    KNIFING HIS FINGERS THROUGH his thick, black hair for the umpteenth time, Sergeant Sean Warrington continued pacing the length of the dock in front of his cabin.  Despite the worst case of nerves he’d ever had, the hypnotic ripples of Lake Hartwell succeeded in bringing him a modicum of tranquility.  But it was a peace that would be short-lived.  Once he laid eyes on her again, all bets of serenity, maybe even civility were off. 
    His chest swelled with pride as he looked out over the scenic expanse. This place was his.  Bought and paid for with the blood, sweat and tears he had shed on dangerous foreign soils.  He was the finest SOCS—Special Operations Capabilities Specialist in the United States Marine Corps. So fine, in