Page 9 of Operation Prom Date
“Whatever. You’re way better at this than most girls. Most girls who don’t have any training, anyway.”
“Again, thanks?”
The boat wobbled as he spun around to face me. “No more hanging out with yourself. Or a coach who only wants tochallengeyou to score your best time.”
I rolled my eyes, making the gesture nice and big so he knew I wasn’t buying the no-pain, no-gain rhetoric.
Cooper gripped the oars and started rowing us back toward the shore.
I eyed the ends of my oars, but even the thought of grabbing them made my shoulders burn. “I’d offer to help, but my arms feel like noodles and I’m pretty sure you’re going as fast without me as you did with me.”
He gave a quick glance to his watch. “You help a little.” I shook my head, but he simply grinned. “And keeping track of our beats and pacing will help a lot as we figure out which marks we need to hit in order to beat our previous times.” With a jerk of his chin, he indicated the paper next to me, the one where I’d scribbled in the times and distance markers like he’d asked me to. “I want you to be as obsessive about that as you were about our history project—more so, if that’s even possible.”
“Oh, it is, and I’m going to make you regret saying that.”
“Bring it,” he said, his grin widening.
Maybe I should force him to sit facing the rear of the boat all the time, because the carefree fun Cooper was back. Intense, obsessed-with-time Cooper scared me a little, even while I liked seeing he was capable of that much passion in some aspects of his life.
The drive to improve his time was admirable, truly, but it also made me wonder what I’d gotten myself into with this deal.
I made a halfhearted attempt to help as I scanned the horizon. The sun now hung low in the sky, turning the shore opposite us into a contrast of dark, pine-tree-shaped spires and fiery sky. The stretched-out clouds glowed around the edges, and the oranges and golds reflected on the surface of the water. The boat and oars left ripples in the colored lake as we glided through it, leaving a trail someone could follow to find us, but only if they hurried, because it quickly faded.
With my exhaustion over having to constantly move through the water fading, a peaceful calm feeling overcame me. Maybe I occasionally missed Amber because it meant I rarely came to the lake anymore, which was especially hard when it’d felt like my second home that summer two years ago. Almost like my first home in some ways, because my real home at that time was bursting with sadness and hard to face.
The boat bumped the shore before I realized how close we were. I stood, planning on jumping onto the dirt and grass embankment so I could help pull the boat to shore. I nearly fell in the water but managed to land on a muddy spot instead, my shoes making a sloppy squishing sound.
When I grabbed the boat and tugged, it was heavier than I expected. My foot slipped, unable to get any traction in the slimy sludge, and I fell backward, all my momentum now working against me. As squishy as the mud was between my fingers, it sure was hard on the butt.
Cooper’s laughter came out sputtered at first, like he’d made an attempt to stop it, but then he laughed full out, the boat rocking as he folded over. I flicked mud at him, but it barely hit his legs, which was hardly satisfying.
Once he semi-recovered from his laughing fit, he took a large step and jumped onto the dry part of the shore.Show off.He tugged the boat up next to him, then extended a hand to me.
“I like how you took care of the boat first,” I grumbled as he grabbed my clean hand.
“Well, it doesn’t have feet. It’s hardly fair to expectitto climb onto the shore.” His implication was clear—he expectedmeto have that ability. He yanked me up, and I nearly bumped into him. My hands automatically went to his waist.
He gripped my upper arms. “Whoa. You steady?”
Suddenly, I didn’t feel steady at all. My stomach did a sommersault, and my skin tingled underneath his large, warm hands.
I must just be lightheaded from standing up so fast—that was it. I shook off the momentary dizziness, and glanced down. My muddy hand left a big smear of brown across his T-shirt and the top of his jeans. “Oh shoot, I got your clothes messy.”
He shrugged and his voice came out low. “I don’t mind getting dirty.”
My gaze shot to his. Apparently I was the one with muddy handsanddirty thoughts, but then dawning crossed his features.
“You thought I was giving you some line, didn’t you?”
I shook my head. “No. Of course not.”
“Mmm-hm. Guess you’re not quite as serious as I thought.” He tipped his head toward his truck. “C’mon. Let’s get you home before the rest of your thoughts drift into the gutter and you offend my delicate sensibilities.”
I opened my mouth to tell him he was the one who put them there, but luckily I stopped myself just in time. No way that wouldn’t come out sounding inappropriate, and then he’d get the wrong idea and think I was crushing on him or something and run in the other direction.
That’d leave me with two social disasters on my hands, because I’d never pull off my goal to land Mick without Cooper by my side.
Chapter Seven
