Page 41 of South of The Skyway

“Mmm,” she sighed. “Somewhere with seasons. This place is a mind fuck. Never changing. Always the same day, day in and day out. I want to experience the seasons. And mountains!”

“No shortage of those where I come from. The seasons are in short supply, it’s pretty much sunny and cold, or rainy and cold.”

“At least something changes. Here we have hot and humid and hot and dry.”

“Grass really is always greener somewhere else?”

“Turf.”

“What?” I chuckled.

“The turf is greener. If it’s green down here, it’s fake. We have swamp and sand, and that’s it.”

The light spread wide up ahead, a clearing in the path as the water grew shallower below us, paddles pushing off sand instead of slicing through the water. “I hear the springs don’t suck.”

“No,” she agreed. “They don’t.” As the words left her mouth, we pushed our way into the wide-open clearing of crystal and turquoise water. Palms and green blades fenced the perimeter, a few fellow visitors floating aimlessly around great grey blobs at the surface. If I hadn’t come here to see them, I would've thought enormous stones were bobbing in the water. Manatee season was in full swing, the pods coming in with their calves to escape the cold. Peaceful and majestic, they slowly drifted along without a care in the world, enjoying the balmy spring water. Enamored, I set my paddle over my lap as I watched them munching on the greens along the bank. My low laugh caught Brexley’s attention, a smile on her face as she glanced back at me.

“What?”

“I’ve never seen one before. At least, not that I remember. They really are sea cows.”

“Ocean potatoes.”

“That might be better,” I agreed with a grin. Never in my life had I seen water so clear with this kind of foliage around it. If it weren’t for the dozens of gentle giants so happily minding their business, I would've insisted on slipping into the water myself.

“Rhyett, look.”

I did, following her outstretched finger to a couple of turtles happily gliding along below a school of metallic fish. “Now this—this I could get used to.”

“Haven’t been in years. Honestly, I avoid the tourist traps like the plague.”

“We lucked out today?”

Brexley shrugged, braid shifting over her shoulder as she leaned over the edge to get a better view. “It’s still early. They’ll flood in and crowd everything. Give them an hour or two.”

Glancing at my watch, I grinned. This girl had met me on the water before eight in the morning. Who was crazy now, Jameson? The big baby. I knew my habits would pay off, eventually.

My heart stuttered. Because Brexley was beaming back at me, and the woman stole the breath from my chest. Fuck, she made my heart race, cheeks mirroring her expression without my permission. I’d needed today. Needed to confirm that I wasn’t crazy. Okay, I was definitely crazy. But the thing between us was real. Beyond the chemistry that had dragged us into a women’s room, there was a spark I couldn’t deny, even if I wanted to. I ached to touch her again, ached for her lips to open below mine, for her body to accept me as needily as she had before.

She ran those straight teeth over her lower lip, eyes flashing. “Do you trust me?”

SEVENTEEN

BREXLEY

The fact that the man hadn’t hesitated to nod had glued my heart to the upper ring of my throat. Instantly, he’d agreed to follow my lead. No questions, no fishing out information. Just a confident nod. Did I trust anyone in my life enough to agree so quickly? Noel. But beyond her? Maybe—maybe—Josie, but even then, I’d have reservations.

Silently we paddled, careful to avoid the manatees as they bobbed along silently. He followed my lead, paddling around the bend in the stream. Finally, he hesitated at the sight of the low overhang and knotted branches arching over the water.

“Lay back, Hotshot.”

“Uhh, Brex, you got a plan here?” Royal hunkered down more into the kayak, as ifshehad over six feet of body to conceal below the limbs.

“Duck.”

“Very funny,” he grumbled, but I felt as the boat rocked, his bare feet and long, lean legs sliding further around my hips. I slunk down low, feet wrapping around my furry friend like a little anchor. I stowed my paddle down the length of the boat, hearing the subtle clunk of Rhyett mimicking the strategy.

From one branch to another, I stretched up a hand and shoved before jerking it back to my chest, nose nearly skimming the mossy underside and trying not to focus on the crabs and spiderwebs precariously close to my face.

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