by Lori Wilde
She knew where he was headed as surely as if he’d told her. She wasn’t surprised when he took the fork in the river, following the tributary north to the underground caves and the swimming hole where they used to meet. When they reached the spot, he cut the engine, threw out the anchor. Gently, the boat rocked. He said nothing, just leaned back in the seat and cupped the back of his head in the palms of his interlaced hands.
She didn’t ask why he’d stopped, what he was doing. She knew from the way he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He was savoring his freedom, breathing in the scent of Twilight, reliving old memories. This place got into your blood, slipped under your skin, twined around your heart. Flynn drew her knees to her chest and sat there watching him.
“Remember the time we went skinny-dipping right here in this same spot?” Jesse asked.
“We were in a canoe.”
“That I borrowed from Clinton Trainer.”
“Borrowed?” Flynn snorted. “You stole it.”
“You say potato…” He grinned.
“No wonder Clinton had it in for you. You were a thorn in his side.”
“It was fun seeing his face get red and watching the vein at his temple pop up.”
“You were incorrigible.”
“It’s what you liked most about me.”
She couldn’t deny it. He was right. His boldness, his spontaneity, his fearlessness intrigued her, drew her. Probably because she was none of those things. The closest she came to any kind of rebellion was her smart-alecky take on life.
“I did the things you couldn’t,” he said, eyes still closed, his voice rumbling deep into the night air. “You lived vicariously through my antics.”
“It was almost as if you had a death wish, Jesse.”
“I was seventeen and stupid. So about the skinny-dipping?”
“What about it?”
“Wanna swim down memory lane?” He inclined his head toward the water. The look in his eyes was pure sex.
“Get naked? With you? In the lake?”
“That’s kinda the idea of skinny-dipping.”
“We have no towels.”
That wasn’t what she should have said. She should have said, No way, Jose. No deal, Phil. Are you out of you mind, Clementine? But instead she said, “We have no towels.” As if she would do it if there were towels. Why had she said that? Why had she gotten into the boat with him?
Jesse leaned over, raised up the seat where the life vests were stowed, and pulled out two thick bath towels. “Ta da.”
“You set me up.”
Jesse laughed. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, Flynn.” He stripped off his shirt. “But I’m going in.”
“Jesse!” she exclaimed.
“I love it when you get all indignant,” he said.
The sight of his bare chest shining in the moonlight drained all the starch from her indignation. She was female and human. He was male and muscled and in his prime. One look, and all she could do was stare.
Don’t drool.
“I’m not going to puddle at your feet,” she said, “just because you’re hauling around a strapping six-pack.”
“No?”
“Go ahead get naked. It won’t faze me a bit.” What was wrong with her? Why did she keep saying things she shouldn’t? Nervously she twirled Beau’s ring on her finger. Guilt played up and down her spine.
You’re engaged to another man. You shouldn’t be here with this one.
Jesse cocked a wide, wicked grin. “Your nipples disagree.”
“What?” She glanced down; her nipples were poking hard against her bra and clearly visible through her T-shirt. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Frick.”
Jesse laughed, toed off his sneakers, reached a hand to the snap of his jeans.
Flynn covered her eyes with her hands.
“Coward.”
“Just because I don’t want to get naked and have minnows nibble on my skin does not make me a coward.”
Jesse hit the water with a soft smacking noise. She peeked through her fingers.
“Ah,” he said, treading water. “This feels great. Refreshing.”
“I’m happy for you.”
“Come on in, Dimples. I promise I won’t look.”
It had been so long since she’d had a dip in the lake, skinny or otherwise. She never seemed to make time for the leisure activities she enjoyed.
“You don’t know what you’re missing,” Jesse cajoled.
“You’re just trying to stir up trouble.”
“You could do with a little stirring up.”
“Oh, believe me, you’ve stirred me up plenty.”
“That’s encouraging to hear.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Right.”
“It’s not.”
“Come on in. Keep your clothes on.”
“Then I’d be all wet on the way back home.”
“That sounds intriguing.”
“You’re completely incorrigible.”
His chuckle rang out across the water. “God, this feels great. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed it.”
He made it sound so enticing. What would be wrong with taking a dip in the water? She didn’t have to swim close to him. She could keep her underwear on. Urges pulled at her, the water called. Oh, what the hell. Flynn stripped off her T-shirt, wriggled out of her shorts, but kept her bra and panties on.
Jesse applauded.
“Knock it off if you want me to come in.”
“Yes ma’am.” He saluted her.
Flynn slipped off the side of the boat, but when she tried to swim free, something tugged on her panties. Dammit, she was caught. She reached around trying to figure out what had snared her.
“Something wrong?” Jesse swam up to her.
“My underwear hung on something on the boat.”
“Here,” he said, “let me help.”
“Just stay away, you’ve caused enough trouble.” She treaded water in the darkness, her fingers fumbling at the material of her panties. “It’s some kind of screw sticking out.”
“If you’d just let me…”
“Get away.” She kicked at him, and her foot made contact with his thigh. She felt the material of his jeans beneath her toes. “Hey! You kept your shorts on.”
He laughed. “You’re the one who closed your eyes and assumed the worst. Did you really think I’d get totally naked in front of you?”
“Hell, yes.”
“Maybe it was just wishful thinking on your part.”
“Oh, just shut up.” She yanked at the panties, felt the material rip in her hands. Great! Now she was totally naked in the water with him.
“If Beau could see us now,” Jesse said.
Flynn groaned. If Beau found out about this he’d be cut to the quick. And he wouldn’t believe her that nothing happened. He would want to know why she’d gotten into the boat with Jesse in the first place, why she’d jumped into the water in her panties and bra. Why had she done those things? And what was she going to do now?
Get back in the boat, you idiot, and put your clothes back on. You are not wild. You are not sixteen. Wise up before you get into big trouble.
“Turn around,” she said.
“What?’
“Turn around and close your eyes. I’m getting back in the boat.”
“Okay.” He closed his eyes, turned around in the water until he was facing the shoreline.
Hurriedly Flynn climbed the ladder. Just as she flung her leg over the boat, fully exposing her bare butt in the starlight, Jesse let out a long, low wolf whistle.
“Dammit, Jesse, I told you not to look!” Furious with him, she snatched up a towel, wrapped it around her bare body, and spun around.
He was still facing away from her. He hadn’t looked. He’d just been teasing. His laughter rang out across the water. Hurriedly she got dressed.
“Can I open my eyes now?”
“Get ba
ck on this boat and take me home,” she demanded.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“This isn’t funny.”
“It’s kinda funny,” he said, scaling the ladder, his wet shorts clinging to his skin. He leaned over the side to pull up the anchor, the material molding snugly to the curve of his very sexy ass.
Flynn jerked her gaze away. She was not going to ogle him. “It’s not the least bit funny.”
“Your panties got caught on a screw, how is that not funny?” He grinned.
“Stop grinning.”
“Not until you admit it was a little funny.”
“Okay,” she admitted. “Maybe it was a little funny.”
He pulled on his T-shirt, sank down behind the wheel. “I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable. That wasn’t my intention.”
“What was your intention?”
“Honestly?”
“No, lie to me.” She snorted.
“I just wanted someone with me when I went swimming for the first time in over a decade. And the first person I thought of sharing the moment with was you.” His tone was poignant, wistful. His words pulled the air right out of her lungs. “Ah, Jesse.”
Were his eyes misting? Or was it a trick of the moonlight. He blinked, and his smile softened. “The thing about the theater was just a handy excuse.”
“What about the theater?”
“We’ll talk when we get back. I’m sorry about the skinny-dipping thing. I just, well…you look so damn gorgeous in moonlight, Dimples, the devil on my shoulder got the best of me.”
She forgave him then. What else could she do?
He started the engine. The air was cool against her damp skin, but it felt good. Fifteen minutes later they were docked outside her house. Jesse leaned back in his seat, studying her with half-shuttered eyes.
“So what did you want to talk to me about in regard to the theater?”
“Would you be interested in renting out the top floor?”
The minute he said it, she knew it was the perfect solution. She wouldn’t have to go into debt. She’d have the right kind of space in the right location. But how perfect could it be when she was having these very disturbing thoughts about Jesse? She was engaged to Beau, and even if she wasn’t, Jesse threatened to turn her orderly world upside down. He’d done it before. He’d done it tonight and he would do it again. Of that she had not doubt. The man loved shaking up the status quo. Especially her status quo.
“I think that would be a really bad idea.”
“How so?”
“Beau wouldn’t like it.”
“I didn’t ask Beau, I asked you.”
“Why do I get the feeling nothing pleases you more than getting under Beau’s skin?”
“You misread me, Dimples. There’s a lot of things that give me more pleasure than irritating Beau Trainer.” The way he looked at her made it pretty clear what sort of things would give him pleasure.
“It wouldn’t work.”
“You’d be doing me a big favor. It’ll be awhile before the motorcycle shop starts turning a profit and I could use the rent money.”
No. Just firmly say no.
“I’d promise to keep my hands to myself. No more tricks like the fake skinny-dipping.”
“That goes without saying. How much do you want for rent?”
He named a very reasonable price. Too reasonable.
Was he making the offer merely to cause trouble between her and Beau? Was that the reason he was really here? “You could rent it out to someone else for more than that.”
“I could, but who better to rent to than a knitting store? All those motherly types coming and going. I’m sure to get a lot of casseroles as a side benefit.”
“It wouldn’t come without strings,” she pointed out. “Those kindly motherly types bearing bachelor casseroles would expect you to tinker with their cars.”
“Small price to pay for homemade chicken à la king.”
“You have been in prison too long if that’s your biggest ambition.” The minute she said it, she could have bitten off her snarky tongue. What in the hell was wrong with her?
Jesse laughed, and relief poured through her. She hadn’t offended him. “So what do you say? Become my chicken à la king pipeline?”
“It’s very tempting when you put it like that…” She wanted to say yes, to accept his offer, but there was the not-so-small matter of her fiancé. “But I’m certain Beau wouldn’t approve.”
Jesse got to his feet. “By all means, let’s make sure that Matt Dillon signs off on this one.”
She got to her feet as well. “Thanks for the offer. It was nice of you to think of me.”
“Hey, it’s the least I could do since I bought the place out from under you.”
“I appreciate it, but I’m going to still keep looking for a place of my own,” she said.
“I gotcha.” He nodded. “I can leave the offer on the table for a month. But after that I really will need to get some rent money coming in.”
“I understand.”
They stood looking at each other, neither one of them moving. In an oak tree along the bank, an owl hooted eerily. Time and history stretched between them, a palpable thing. Tension rose up, curling through her, swirling around him, silently ensnaring them in the question of what might have been.
She dropped her gaze, but it landed on the length of his long bare legs. A trickle of sweat slid down the back of her neck in spite of the breeze rolling off the river. The pulse in her throat skittered, and she experienced a rush of sexual awareness so potent she had to bite down on her bottom lip.
His breathing sped up; she could hear him raggedly pulling air into his lungs, saw to her surprise that his hand was trembling oh so slightly. Bravely she lifted her head and met his gaze once more. He was staring at her so intently she wondered if he could see the bead of sweat that had traced from her neck, down her shoulder, and was now sliding slowly between her breasts. But he couldn’t have seen it in the darkness. Somehow he just instinctively knew what was going on in her body.
She scurried out of the boat, relieved to have her feet planted firmly on the dock.
“Good night, Dimples,” he murmured. “Sweet dreams.”
Then he started the boat and disappeared into the darkness, leaving Flynn wondering what in the hell had just happened.
The next morning Beau dropped by as Flynn was getting ready to head out to Froggy’s. Beau’s appearance was a surprise. She hadn’t expected him. She’d just stepped out on the front porch and was juggling her keys, ledger book, and glass of iced tea as she pulled the screen door closed behind her. She’d spent the night tossing and turning. Thinking about Jesse’s proposition and how much she wanted to start the Yarn Barn and live up to the promise she’d made her mother.
“Morning,” Beau greeted her, coming up on the porch steps and doffing his Stetson in one smooth movement. He leaned in for a kiss. It was nice, comfortable, perfunctory. She waited to feel some kind of tingle, but she didn’t. Okay, that wasn’t fair. It was a simple hello kiss. It wasn’t designed to be knock-your-socks-off.
“What’s up?”
“Nothing’s up, just wanted to drop by and say hi.”
“Hi.” She smiled.
“I took the liberty of talking to some Realtors on your behalf,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“No, I don’t mind, that’s fine. I appreciate the help.” She pocketed the keys, tucked the ledger under her arm, and took a sip of tea. “So did you have any luck?”
Solemnly he shook his head. “There’s nothing for sale anywhere even close to the town square, not even for rent.”
Except for the space over Jesse’s motorcycle shop.
“Furthermore, no one thinks anything will open up within the next year.”
Flynn muttered a strong curse word. Beau frowned, but said nothing. She knew the look. He hated when she cussed. “Sorry,” she mumbled an apology.
“With that in m
ind, I was thinking we should just go ahead with the wedding plans and then you can start the business after we’re married.”
Panic seized her. “But you promised me that I could get Lynn’s Yarn Barn started before we made wedding plans. That was part of the deal. You can’t renege on me now,” she protested.
“I know it was, Flynn, but get realistic. It might be several years before the right property comes along.” He touched her shoulder, gave her a soft smile. “I can’t wait that long to have you as my bride.”
Feeling cornered, she gulped, and then blurted, “Jesse offered to rent the upstairs floor of the theater to me.”
Beau stiffened. “What?”
She repeated what she’d said even though she knew he’d heard her the first time.
“No.” Beau gritted his teeth. “Absolutely not. I forbid you to rent from Jesse Calloway.”
Anger and adrenaline pumped through her. “Excuse me? You forbid me?”
He put out a restraining hand.
She jerked away and ended up dropping her glass of tea to the porch, not even caring that it splashed on her legs. She shook the ledger underneath Beau’s nose. “We are not married yet, mister, and you cannot tell me what to do. I have been taking care of my entire family since I was thirteen years old. I’ve worked and I’ve scrimped and I’ve sacrificed. And when my mother was on her deathbed, I made her a promise. I swore that I would open the yarn store that she never got the chance to open and give her knitting club an official home. And you have the audacity to stand there and forbid me to do this one last thing for my mother—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Beau put up his hands in a defensive gesture. “That was a poor choice of words. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, back up the chuck wagon.”
Flynn clenched her fist; she was trembling all over. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this angry. Why was she so angry? “Do you want your ring back? Is that what you want?”
Beau paled visibly. “No, no, things have gotten out of hand, this isn’t—”
“What do you think is going to happen if I rent the top floor of the theater? That I’ll start getting tattoos and riding motorcycles?”