Page 125 of Ripped & Shipped
“But you’re making it better.”
“That’s what I’m here for. I’ll kiss it and make it better.”
Even though I can’t see his face right now, I know he’s wagging his eyebrows playfully.
I chuckle and smack his chest. My hand lightly stings from the impact. He really is a behemoth of a man. My fingers slide over to his biceps and I squeeze. Yeah, Meg. One for you.
Chris tilts his head toward mine and gives me this soft, gentle kiss that barely brushes my lips and then lingers.
“You’re not in this alone. I’m here.”
“Thank you.”
“In the army, we learn not to fight alone. It’s a surefire way to bring on defeat. Don’t fight alone, Ella Mae. Not when you’ve got people who want to fight with you—for you.”
I tuck my head into Chris’ chest and soak up the feeling of being held by him.
“I’ve got a spot where I go when the walls feel like they’re closing in. Let’s take a little drive. Grab your swimsuit and a towel, and I’ll help you forget this town and their busybody ways for a while.”
I dash upstairs fast enough to leave Chris chuckling in my entryway. I don’t spend too much time deciding on the right suit. Whatever. I lay out every suit I own and hold them up to myself in the mirror. That stops when Chris shouts up asking if I’m sewing my suit from scratch.
I finally land on a yellow two-piece. I put it on under my clothes and throw a change into my floppy bag along with my big fluffy towel and some sunscreen. Then I hustle down the stairs.
“Ready! Take me away, Soldier!”
Chris leans in and kisses my cheek, like a genuine, honest-to-goodness boyfriend.
We haven’t used those labels. Maybe we won’t. We’re in our early thirties. Do you even say boyfriend-girlfriend at that point in life? All I know is Chris makes me feel like I’m in high school, dating the most popular guy in class.
We’re only on the road for ten minutes when I get a hunch where we’re going.
“You’re taking me to the reservoir?”
The scenery is familiar. And this is not a private spot. The whole town heads out here in the heat. Even on a late afternoon on a weekday, the moms will be bringing their kids out here to get out of the house and cool off. It’s summer, so that goes double. Some families come here for a picnic lunch and stay until dinnertime.
“I’m not taking you to the part everyone knows about. I’ve got a spot.”
Chris keeps driving past the main turnoff. He drives around to the other side of the lake. We veer off onto this unpaved road that looks almost overgrown. Grass grows high along the edges of the dirt. The ride gets bumpy as we pass under natural arches of trees, and then we emerge into a clearing with a bunch of cattails on one side of the water and a cluster of bushes behind them on land. There’s a spot right up at the edge of the lake that’s cleared, like a beach.
Chris turns the truck in a one-eighty, and parks so the bed of the truck is pointing toward the water.
“This is it,” Chris says, waving his hand toward the scene in front of us. “No one can see us from over on the other side because we’re tucked away in a cove. And basically no one seems to know this spot exists.”
“This is amazing.”
“I’ve never brought anyone here,” he says, looking suddenly bashful.
It’s a good look on him, but honestly, what isn’t a good look on him, am I right?
“Want to swim?” Chris asks. “Or we could sit and chat, or just …”
“Let’s swim,” I say, shucking my shirt and shorts and tossing them into my bag.
Chris’ eyes heat and his gaze rakes over me. It would almost be overwhelming, except it’s like an unspoken compliment. He doesn’t take his gaze off mine as he slowly lifts his shirt, peeling it off with one hand as he lifts his hat with the other.
Oh, sweet honey on a corn cake.
Abs. First it’s the abs. Then the pecs. And those arms. His face pops through and I’m so, so busted.
