Page 48 of Stick Break
Heat blisters in his eyes. “Oh, you like the idea of that, do you?”
“Yeah. I kind of do.” But then suddenly, as if having second thoughts, he straightens, his face somber. “What?”
He gives a hard shake of his head, looking like he’d just been hit with a hockey stick and it sobered him, quickly. “It’s not going to work,” he grumbles.
My heart studders, confused. “What’s not going to work?” Is he done with me? Has this charade gone too far? Yeah, it probably has, now that his neighbor is involved.
“I want you, Char,” he begins then lowers his voice even more to whisper, “I want nothing more than to take you inside and put my mouth all over you.” My pulse jumps with excitement, but when he grimaces, and gestures with a nod toward the cottage next to us, unease makes its way through my body. “The problem is, she’s going to know what we’re doing. And if I know she knows…ugh, I’m going to have performance anxiety.” His shoulders sag. “Cock blocked by Mrs. Callahan.”
I burst out laughing. “Wow, now she’s living rent free in your brain.” I pick up the plastic bag. “I guess we’ll have to find some other way to pass the day then.” I open the bag and find a sundress, two-piece bathing suit, touristy hat, and water wings. “These for you?” I tease.
“The dress and bathing suit are for you.” He snatches the water wings and tears into the packaging. “These are for me.”
My insides soar with laughter. God, this man is so much fun to be around. How could his ex dangle him like she’s doing. Doesn’t she know a good guy when she sees one? “Rip you’re insane.”
He blows one up and can only manage to get it to his wrist. He holds it out and examines it like it’s a jeweled bracelet. “Perfect fit.”
I turn and look out over the water, my happiness waning a little. “Does that mean you want to go boating?”
“Hey,” he says quickly, his voice soft, full of understanding. “I don’t want to do anything you don’t want to do, but it could be fun. You remember what I said about riding a horse.”
“I thought that’s what I was going to do,” I tease and he pulls me against him.
“You were about to ride o ride Big Bear,” Rip says, voice low and rough, “Just so we’re clear, that offer’s still on the table.”
I eye the flimsy patio table between us and give it a little test rock. Creak. I pucker my lips thoughtfully. “This one?” I rock it. “I don’t know, Rip. I’m not sure it’s built to take that kind of pounding.”
He lets out a bark of laughter, clearly delighted. The kind of delighted that makes his eyes dance and his mouth curve into a grin I feel everywhere.
Pounding.
Honestly, who even am I right now?
Apparently, someone he likes. A lot.
“How did we never meet before?” he asks, still grinning.
“Well,” I say, “We live on opposite sides of the country. Also, you were apparently in a committed relationship with a woman who doesn’t appreciate your floaty-wearing, casserole-bringing, fake-fiancée-having self.”
“Tragic,” he deadpans. “So. Boating?”
He’s fiddling with his water wings again like they’re a vital part of the plan. “I promise to stay close to shore,” he says, all serious now. “And if you’re uncomfortable at any time, we come right back in. No questions asked.”
That melts me a little. I mean, how is this man real?
“That could be fun,” I say. “You know, to pass the time.”
“Not as fun as some other things I could think of,” he says, and gives me a playful swat on the backside that sets me into motion. “We need to get moving. We’ve got to be back for Mrs. Callahan’s five o’clock early bird special. No time to waste.”
I scoop up my guitar and rush inside to stash it safely, then head to the bathroom to change. Which feels… silly, considering the man has already seen me naked. But still, I close it anyway.
I hold up the bikini he bought. Of course he found the tiniest one in existence. I grin and shake my head. The audacity. Still, I put it on, and damn if it doesn’t fit perfectly.
I slide on the new sundress and when I step back out, Rip’s sitting on the edge of the sofa, staring at his phone like it’s giving him bad news. He doesn’t say anything, but his face is all tight lines and tension, that faraway look again. I don’t need to ask who it is. I know it’s…her.
I make a noise and he glances up, and just like that, the weight lifts. His eyes lock on me and boom, we’re back.
“That fits you,” he says, voice a little husky.
