Page 21 of Just Can't Fall for the Enemy

She watched as I set foot in the boat and plopped into the passenger seat next to her, which swiveled with a squeak. It had a tear on one corner with white stuffing poking out.

“I need to get that repaired,” she said, handing me a muffin. I took it and handed her back the vanilla mocha latte the java cashier said she loved. I’d sat in the drive-thru for fifteen minutes waiting for them to open. This definitely wasn’t LA with its twenty-four-hour Starbucks.

“Not a hint of pasta or sauce,” I assured her. “Or even coffee, for that matter. I’m pretty sure they just lobbed a few scoops of cream in there and added hot water.”

“Don’t tell me you’re the black-coffee type,” she said, reaching over to pull the rope off the dock with one hand and holding her drink with the other. “Tough guy with his Tesla and straight bean juice.”

“Wakes me up in more than one way.” I sat back and sipped my own drink, feeling the hot liquid singe away the slight chill in the air. I’d worn board shorts and brought a backpack with my hoodie, good walking shoes, and a wet suit. I wasn’t sure what this adventure would bring. This was Sophie, after all.

“It’s too cold for lake sports,” she yelled over the sound of the motor and the wind blowing past us. “But you’ve done all that.”

“Right. I want to see what makes your town different.”

“I’m not sure how different you’ll find this, but it’s something most tourists don’t even know about. Certain times of the year, our destination gets cut off by water, and you can only access it by boat. That’s not the case now, but I wanted you to see what it’s like most of the time.”

“Perfect.”

Sophie must have felt my gaze still on her because she looked at me questioningly. I just grinned. She’d been breathtaking last night in her gown. But now? This was Sophie, her loose sweater flapping about in the wind and exposing a swimsuit strap and the gentle slope where her slender neck met her shoulders, her long hair flying behind her, sometimes whipping her right in her sharp brown eyes. Occasionally she’d lift a gentle hand to sweep it away, determination in her gaze as she steered us toward whatever adventure awaited. Behind her lay a stunning sunrise, painting the landscape in indescribable variations of pink, yet it couldn’t hold a candle to this carefree woman sitting just inches from me, so independent and free and everything I wanted in my own life.

You’re leaving in a few days, Tanner. Don’t forget that.

I slid my sunglasses on, cutting off the warm colors, and took my camera out of its bag. I was almost sorry to put so many layers of glass between me and the view, but that was the way it had to be.

I turned on the camera and captured the moment for millions of other people to enjoy, careful to avoid filming Sophie.The magic quickly dissipated. In recording the moment, it was no longer ours.

Less than twenty minutes later, we pulled up to a rocky shore. She anchored the boat, givingAnastasiaa pat as she powered down, then swept a backpack over her shoulder and jumped into the water to make the short trek to shore. She didn’t even flinch at the waist-high water. “Coming?”

“Sure.” I grabbed my pack and tried to slide in carefully. It didn’t help. The water still stung like a million bee stings. “Kinda cold for September, isn’t it? Seems like there’d be some of that summer heat left.”

“This lake is too deep to heat much in the summer, and winter comes early here. Besides, if you think that’s cold, you’re in for a surprise.” She grinned and marched up the rocky shore.

I tried not to let my eyes linger on the half-wet woman in shorts leading me toward the forest and followed, packing my gear over one shoulder.

The hike was less than five minutes. I knew where we were headed long before we arrived simply because of the sound of rushing water growing louder and louder. Soon, a fine mist sprayed the air, adding to the chill and making me forget about the dampness of everything below my waist. We rounded a bend in the trail and there it was—a tall, narrow waterfall spilling into a pool.

She tossed her backpack aside, slid her sweater off to expose a navy-blue tankini that nicely set off her brown hair and tanned skin, and slid into her wet suit. I did the same. Mine was a little tight, but at least it zipped up. I’d returned to the sports store after flirty girl left and guessed on the size. A minute later, Sophie climbed the slick black boulders next to the waterfall. I watched her a moment longer before realizing what she was about to do.Then a gnawing worry took hold.

“Are you sure about this?” I shouted over the roar of the water, eyeing the pool beneath. It was impossible to tell its depth. If she got herself paralyzed, what would I do? My phone didn’t even have one bar to call for help. She didn’t react to my question. I doubt my voice carried farther than my breath could. The sound of the waterfall drowned out everything else.

She reached the highest point and turned to face me, shouting something I couldn’t hear. It was an impressive climb with ropes, let alone without them. She’d obviously done this many times. When I shrugged to indicate I couldn’t hear her, she lifted her hands and pretended to hold a camera, using her finger to snap imaginary photos.

Interesting. She hadn’t wanted clips of herself before, but now? I grabbed my camera and turned it on just in time for her to leap off, curl into a cannonball, and plunge deep into the pool, where she disappeared into the foam at the base of the falls.

Behind the camera, my heart pounded. Somewhere deep inside, I began counting.One. Two. Three . . . Ten. Eleven. Twelve.

Nothing.

I turned off the camera and shoved it into my bag before jogging toward the pool, staring at the spot where she’d disappeared. No movement.

That was it. She had to be putty at the bottom of the pool by now. I stepped into the water. The term “ice-cold” didn’t begin to describe it. It felt like barely-melted glacier water. I’d brave it to save her life, though. A hundred times over. I took a deep breath and prepared to dive in.

She emerged with a gasp. “So refreshing!”

I gaped at her, feeling my shoulders collapse in relief. “Are you serious? I thought you drowned.”

“No, I went to the bottom and sat for a while,” she said casually, as if none of this were a big deal. “It’s one of my favorite places—kinda dark and quiet but loud at the same time, like two opposites meeting in this weird middle place of neither and both and everything and nothing.”

Was that supposed to make sense? “It didn’t occur to you that I’d be freaking out up here?”

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