Page 44 of The Last Dance You Saved
As we clambered in, Rafe untied it from the dock, threw the rope inside, and jumped in with an ease that spoke of years of doing it, just as his driving had. Fallon was already at the helm, and she didn’t wait this time for her dad to dislodge her. Instead, she started the engine and tossed a defiant glance over her shoulder at him before setting off.
Every fiber in his being said he didn’t like it, but Rafe took a seat at the back next to me. Fallon increased the pressure on the throttle, driving with an expertise that was almost as good as her father’s had been in the car. It was loud where we sat by the motor, making talk impossible as we sped over the water, so I just let myself enjoy the ride.
The air was thick with the smells of summer, reminding me of inner tubes and jumping off the old dock in the center of the lake back home with my friends. Warm and beautiful memories I’d been lucky to create and sometimes missed with the responsibilities that had landed on me now with the bar being in my full control. Sometimes I felt two decades older than Fallon, when really only nine years separated us.
When Fallon finally stopped the boat at least a mile from shore, it felt like we were the only souls on the pristine waters.
“This is…” I shook my head. “It’s really beautiful.”
Fallon beamed at me, and even Rafe smiled.
While we ate, I asked the girls about the horses and what the training they did looked like. They were animated, talking about their coach and how she taught at the Western riding school but that she’d been a famous trick rider herself back in the day. She coached the girls privately because the school was more about rodeo riding than trick riding.
Fallon’s face held the same excitement and confidence she’d had when showing me some of her act this morning. Her friend was quieter but seemed to smile more. Her soft brown hair and pale eyes were a contrast to Fallon’s blond vivaciousness.
Rafe was silent while I chatted with the girls, his brows slightly furrowed as he listened.
When the teens had eaten more pizza than I could ever imagine putting away, they headed for the swim platform at the back, stripping out of their shorts and then flinging some pool noodles in a variety of bright colors into the lake.
“No comment about eating and swimming?” Fallon tossed out at her dad as she prepared to dive in.
“You get a cramp and start to drown, holler out, and I’ll save you.” He said it sardonically, as if he knew it wouldn’t happen.
She dove off the back in a graceful move, and her friend followed suit. They grabbed the colorful toys and swam farther away from the boat before wrapping legs and arms around the noodles so they could float on their backs with their faces up to the sky.
I stacked the pizza boxes and the container Rafe’s sandwich had come in, bundling the trash.
I knew he was watching me again, the burn on my neck only one of the many reasons, and when I turned back around, it was to find him lounging with his legs spread wide and his arms along the back of the seat.
“What?” I asked.
“You always like this?”
“Like what?”
“Stepping in to help. Doing more than any guest would ever do.”
“I like to keep busy. Sitting still is hard for me.”
He stood, reached behind him, and pulled off his T-shirt, throwing it on the seat with a careless ease. The sun was behind him, ringing him in a white halo that shadowed his face and made him seem more comic-book mirage than real. His stomach rippled with muscled grooves that drew my eyes downward to the delightful V just below his waist, but it was the jagged scar that ran up at an angle from his swim trunks and ended just below his heart that stole my breath.
He was scarred. Marked. Just like me.
He moved so his shadow swung over me, causing the halo that had surrounded him to blink away. I was finally able to read his expression and found it guarded, lids heavy. He’d locked away his emotions once more, leaving only a broody assessment behind.
I wanted to ask about the scar. I wanted to know what had happened and when and how he’d recovered from it. But I knew if I did, I’d be required to give him the same information back. And I didn’t want to talk about the shooting. How we’d almost lost my niece, Mila, and how I’d almost not lived. How I hadn’t protected her or me from being taken at gunpoint, but she’d been smart enough to hide once she’d been able to run away from our captor.
I swallowed hard, trying to slow my pulse, trying to inhale enough air so I didn’t pass out.
“You’re not going to ask?” His voice was low and guttural and held a hint of disbelief.
I shook my head.
“Because you don’t want me to do the same.”
It shouldn’t have shocked me that he’d read my hesitation when he’d been good at reading me all along, but it still did. When I still didn’t respond, he lifted a brow and turned away, stepping toward the swim platform. He glanced back over his shoulder. “Coming?”
I pulled off my tank top, and he watched every move, gaze lingering on my breasts barely contained in the bikini top. I’d never quite gotten my body back after my recovery, and I’d accepted it would never be what it had been, even with the workouts Gia had put me through. I wasn’t embarrassed by it, but I also wasn’t as ready to flaunt it as I used to be. The way Rafe’s eyes heated, the way they took in every inch of my exposed skin, made me want to shed it all, bare myself and see what he would do with the entire offering.
