I look down at my legs and then back up at him. “They’re short and my knees are weird.”

“Are you really going to insult yourself in front of me?”

“That’s what Matt used to say about them.” The moment the words leave my lips, I know it’s a mistake, because Wilder’s semijovial expression morphs into pure anger.

“Please tell me you’re kidding.”

“You know, I don’t know why I brought that up. Just forget I said it.”

“No,” he says, taking a step forward. “Did he really say that to you?”

“Sometimes,” I answer reluctantly. “But it was in a joking way.”

“Yeah, well, that ‘joke’ seems to have tarnished your opinion about yourself, and that’s unacceptable.” He tips my chin up with his thumb. “You hear me? Unacceptable. Do not take other people’s flawed opinions about you and turn them into your own. There is nothing wrong with your legs. Personally, I think they’re hot. The moment I saw you in that skirt standing outside Anthropologie, I thought to myself, she has hot legs. Nothing weird about them.”

Once again, I can feel my cheeks heat up as I quietly say, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now, take off that cover-up so I can assess the rest of your body.”

“What?” I ask, snapping my attention to him, causing him to smirk.

“Just kidding, Pips. But seriously, suit up. We have a challenge to win.”

Wilder has his hand on my hip, his chest pressed against my back, as he leans over and points to a square-shaped blow-up obstacle in the middle of the lake. We’re both suited up, but instead of him all the way in his wet suit, he has the top half hanging at his hips, keeping his chest and arms exposed. He claims the sun is starting to make him hot, so he doesn’t want to burn up and overheat before it’s our turn, but a part of me wonders if he’s doing it to show off to the other guys. There’s no doubt Wilder has the best body out of all the husbands.

Not that it’s a competition, but I did see Chad and Duncan pointing at Wilder before they took on the challenge. Luckily, we didn’t have to go first, so we can watch where people are messing up and readjust our method.

“Right there, that’s where everyone falls in, and it’s because the woman is jumping first, and when the guy jumps on, he sends the woman into the water. We need to switch up there.”

“Yeah, I see. But should we argue about it when we get to that point?”

He squeezes my hip. “That’s my girl. Take all that built-up anger you have, and let me have it.”

“I think I can do that.”

“Prices,” Sanders calls out. “You’re up.”