I forget to be amused, because he’s now wearing nothing except for a pair of sky-blue swim shorts whose low cut showcases that happy trail I used to lick down. His body is smooth and bronzed and cut, and I’m hit with a shot of lust so potent that it makes my breath hitch. I haven’t seen him naked since… probably that day I fell asleep on him at the Kingsley. I’ve tried very, very hard not to think about what I’m missing out on in my “new normal” with Brendan, and this reminder is very fucking unhelpful. I can just about keep myself together at work, but I’m only human. This level of exposure he has going on is frankly indecent.

Right now, I would gladly empty the pool area of everyone, including my beloved daughter, so I could yank those shorts down and get my mouth on that cock of his before pulling him down onto the lounger and grinding on him so shamelessly that⁠—

Brendan throws his t-shirt at me. ‘See something you like?’

I glare at him, feeling totally busted. ‘That is very inappropriate,’ I spit.

He bends down so he can whisper in my ear, and I can smell his sun-warmed skin. God, his shoulder is so close to me. So tanned and huge. I just want to sink my teeth into it. ‘That eye-fucking you were giving me was even less appropriate,’ he whispers, his breath warm against my jaw. His fingertips skim discreetly over the skin of my back, and I shiver. ‘There are children around. Try to have some self-control. Nice bikini, by the way.’

When he straightens up, he’s grinning at me. I shake my head at him, trying not to smile and failing miserably. The man has far too much swagger. He’s a danger to himself and to society.

He turns away. ‘Cannonbaaaaaall!’ he shouts, leaping off the edge and tucking his legs in so tightly that, when he hits the surface of the water, he soaks every last one of us.

Cocky little shit.

Tabs may have a fully functioning pulmonary valve now, but she’s just had major surgery, a fact of which I grow increasingly aware as the antics in the pool escalate. Still, the fear can’t detract from the sheer joy I feel at watching her splash and swim around like a normal little girl. Just when I’m thinking she should get out and rest, Brendan procures a large watermelon-shaped floatie and has her get up on it. He drags her around the pool in it for a few minutes, sprinkling her with a tiny pink watering can until she squeals, and I realise it’s his way of getting her to take some time out without missing out on the fun.

‘He’s very devoted,’ Mairead observes. She and Athena are flanking me; Gabe and Peter are in the pool with the four kids.