Page 80 of The Renter
“Yes, too hard.”Way too fucking hard.
“Same.” The tone she says it in, I can’t tell if that’s good or bad.
“Am I doing a good job getting you clients?” I ask, digging in a little further.
“Too good of a job.”
I smile, then say, “You can retire any time you want, you know.”
“Ha!” She throws a piece of popcorn at me. “I’m very happy for the work. Lots of exciting projects.” She smiles, and I see how happy she is.I love making her happy.
“You feel so far away,” I whine.
“I’m literally two feet from you.”
“I know, but I can’t hold your hand or touch your knee. You’re too far away.”
“Plenty of time for that later, Adam,” she says firmly, then giggles.
As we pass a crowd of boats anchored near a beach, she says, “You know, Big Foot Beach … it’s where the girls and I decided I was going to return the cups and flirt with you.”
“Oh yeah?”
“It’s pretty crazy that I … that we both went for it.”
“I’d say it was one of the best decisions of my life.” I stand to place a kiss on her lips before taking my shirt off. The cutest smile grows on her face. “It’s almost eighty degrees today. So hot!”
“I’d say,” she says, checking me out. “More wine, please.” She extends her cup to me.
“Take the cover-up off, and I’ll refill your glass.”
“So, bossy,” she whispers, the sex dripping in her tone, then slides the cover-up off and tucks it into the side panel.
“Sexiest captain.” I smile, taking in how beautiful she is. “You know … you’ll have to thank Greg.”
“For what?”
“Renting the cottage and shipping me here.” She makes a scrunched face, not liking the idea of thanking him for me being here this summer. “I’ve already thanked him.” I smile.
We both sip our wine, holding a heated stare.
“What do you think of that house?” she asks as we pass a huge stone mansion.
“Not my taste.”
“Nor mine.” She giggles.
“Would you want one of these houses?” I ask, curious.
“Maybe. I don’t know. I hear the taxes are, like, fifty thousand or more a year.”
“Death and taxes, don’t get me started.”I have talked about taxes way too much lately.
Passing the town of Lake Geneva, the piers are filled with tourists walking around.
“What was it like growing up in this area?”
“Weird.”
