A Shot With You (Bourbon Brothers)

by Teri Anne Stanley

  Shaking off the unease, she thought about what she’d packed. What Brandon had told her to pack, and not to pack. Oh, no. “There is a big problem with your plans,” Lesa told him.

  “What’s that?”

  “I didn’t bring a swimsuit.”

  Brandon wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Is that a problem?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “No, really. I was kidding. Sort of.” Brandon followed Lesa through the marina store while she sorted through the bathing suit options. “I figured that one of the girls would have left a suit. Oh. That would work,” he said, to the barely-existing scraps of fluorescent pink fabric she held up.

  “I don’t think so.” She thrust the suit back onto the rack with a scowl.

  The next one was a high-necked tank suit.

  “No.” He shook his head.

  She checked the tag. “It’s my size, and the price is right.”

  “Aw, Lesa, come on,” he begged. He was sorry. He really hadn’t considered that she’d need a suit. There were always a dozen or more swimsuits in the houseboat. Except this year, because Lorena had been the last person to stay there last year, and she’d done a better than average job of cleaning when she’d vacated the premises.

  And Lesa was mad at him.

  He followed her to the cash register, docile as could be, though he did grab a bag of Cheetos and a six-pack of bottled water on the way. After a glance at Lesa’s set chin, he added a four-pack of Reese’s Cups to toss onto the counter next to her Victorian nanny swim suit. He didn’t dare comment, lest she decide she wasn’t going to come out in the sun at all.

  “You want anything special, snack-wise?” he dared to ask. “I picked up some extra stuff when we stopped at the grocery store in town, but if there’s something…” He hoped the chocolate would soothe her pique, but maybe she had different preferences from his mom and the McGrath girls.

  “No thank you,” she said, formally.

  “I’ve got that,” Brandon told Margie, the middle-aged lady who’d worked there for as long as he could remember. “Just put it all on my bill.”

  Lesa turned and scowled at him. “You don’t have to buy this for me,” she said.

  “Uh, yeah. I think I do. That way it’s mine, and I can burn it after you don’t need it anymore,” he said, eyeing the monstrosity. Chances were, it would be too cold to get in the water today, anyway, and they’d just spend the afternoon sitting in the sun on the top deck of the houseboat. She could get away with shorts and a tank top if she wanted. But after she realized that he meant them to spend the day on the water, and that she didn’t have a swimsuit to wear, she’d gotten grumpy.

  Hence his attempt at conciliatory chocolate.

  Margie smiled sympathetically at Brandon as she stuffed the purchases into a couple of bags.

  “It may not be summer, but the sun’s still pretty strong,” she said. “Do you need any sunscreen?”

  “No, there’s still enough of that on the boat from last year,” he grumbled.

  Lesa cut her gaze at him, and he thought he caught a flash of humor.

  Was she playing him? That would be fine. He was open to tormenting. She didn’t need to go to extremes to tease him, though. Picking a high-necked, flannel swimsuit was taking things too far.

  Okay. It wasn’t really flannel. But still.

  He followed Lesa from the marina store to the wooden walkway. Maude and Mabel paced and whined from the deck of the “Ship and a Bottle,” anxious to get underway.

  The family boat was moored on the second dock away from the marina, so it only took a few silent moments to reach their slot and toss their purchases onto the picnic table on the AstroTurf-covered platform at the back of the boat.

  “What do you need me to do?” Lesa finally spoke, her annoyance with him apparently stashed for the moment.

  “Margie says they’ve got us all ready to go, so we just need to get untied.”

  “Should I change first or wait until we’re underway?” she asked.

  “Whatever you like.” That was neutral. His personal opinion was that the granny suit she’d bought should find its way to the bottom of the lake, but he was keeping that to himself.

  Then he mentally smacked himself in the head for being an asshole. He didn’t need to see Lesa in a string bikini to know that he was over-the-moon hot for her. She could probably wear sackcloth and ashes and he’d be unable to keep his eyes off of her.

  He was just frustrated that she’d gotten so mad at him for not giving her a heads-up about the suit.

  “Well, let’s get out on the water so these dogs can stop pacing,” she said, hopping along the edge of the boat to the front and leaning over the railing to reach for the rope holding the side to the cleat.

  Brandon shrugged and went inside, checking the gauges to confirm that the gas tank was full, and that the battery was charged. All was good. He turned the key, and the diesel engine roared to life, then rumbled happily, waiting to shift into gear.

  He checked to see that Lesa had gotten all of the ropes untied.

  “Okay, we’re ready. Keep your arms and legs inside the ride at all times!” he called out. Checking to make sure that there were no other boats passing behind them, he threw the boat into gear and began to back out, into the mainstream of the marina. He took a deep breath. It was boat season. Everything was in its place. The dogs on the deck—Maude and Mabel now, but there had been several family dogs before his pair of hounds. There was beer in the cooler, hamburgers in the fridge to toss on the gas grill later. When they got back the marina, there was always ice cream from the store.

  As the houseboat was shifted into forward and began to move toward the open water of Lake Cumberland, Lesa turned from the front deck and smiled at Brandon.

  Good. Maybe he was forgiven. Hopefully. He really wanted to share his love of the lake with her.

  She stepped through the open door to the main cabin where he stood at the wheel and said, “I’ll change now, okay?”

  “Sure,” he told her. “We’re gonna go up to the next cove for now and tie up for a while. The dogs like to swim, and they’ll start whining if we don’t give them a chance to wear themselves out as soon as possible.”

  “Start whining?” She laughed and shoved a whimpering Mabel out of her way to one of the staterooms.

  The smells of diesel exhaust and lake water were like a balm to his soul. The first boat ride of the season always made Brandon feel like he’d been holding his breath the rest of the year.

  He reached above him to the ancient CD player and pushed play.

  The melodic drumbeat opening to the Talking Heads’ Psycho Killer thumped throughout the floating camper. As David Byrne began to sing, Mabel and Maude came to sit on Brandon’s feet. The three of them began to participate in houseboat karaoke.

  They’d just begun to rock it out, “Oh, oh oh ohhhhh…ai yi yi yi yi yiiii…” when Lesa reappeared.

  Covered from shoulder to knee in Dad’s 2XL Cincinnati Bengals T-shirt. And peeking out from below that, her legs were covered to ankle in a towel.

  He grinned. She could torment him all she wanted, but she was hot. And from the wry twist to her luscious lips, she knew it.

  Reaching up to turn the music down, he tried to shush the dogs, but they weren’t quite done singing along.

  “Are we there yet?” Lesa shouted over the joyful howls and barks.

  “Almost.” Brandon slowed the big boat and began the turn into his favorite secluded cove. There were so many twists and turns in this lake—this one appeared to be a short, blind cove, but just as you thought the boat would crash into the stone wall at the end, another turn was revealed, allowing the houseboat room to maneuver and remain hidden from the main lake.

  “This is so beautiful,” Lesa said, rubbing the finally quiet Maude’s ears. “And huge.”

  “There’s enough water in this lake to cover all of Kentucky with three inches of water.”

  “Really.” She looke
d over the railing. “That’s a lot of water.”

  “Yup. There are supposedly a bunch of towns at the bottom of the lake that got flooded when they built the dam.”

  “Oooh. I wonder if the ghosts ever swim up and grab people?”

  Oh, hell. That was one of his childhood nightmares. “We all wear life jackets in the water. That way they can’t pull you all the way under.” At least he hoped not. Judging that they were close enough to shore, he cut the engine.

  He opened a locker on the deck, pulled out a rope and tossed it over a low-hanging tree limb. He’d have to go in and grab the other end to tie the boat off, but he had a few minutes before they drifted too far.

  “Come on, Maude. Mabel.” He pulled out the custom doggie life jackets his mother insisted on and snapped an excited Maude into one.

  Lesa took the other and got to work on her sister.

  “Okay, just a sec.” He found his own life jacket. This was gonna suck. It was still early spring, and even though the day was hot and sunny, the water would be icy. There would be shrinkage. Major shrinkage. But there was nothing for it.

  He opened the gate from the deck and turned to look at Lesa. “I’m doing this for you,” he said, and with his best Tarzan yell, jumped, feet first, into the frigid lake water.

  He heard the dogs hit the water behind him as he surfaced and began to stroke toward the shore. Reaching the rocks at the water’s edge, he carefully pulled himself up and grabbed the loose end of the rope. A few good knots, and the boat would be secure for as long as they wanted to stay here.

  He turned to see Lesa watching him from the deck.

  “Are you gonna come out in the sunshine? After you invested in that lovely swimsuit, it would be a shame if you sat there covered up all day,” he called.

  “Well,” she said, dropping the towel, and reaching for the hem of the T-shirt. “Turns out that suit didn’t fit after all.” And without another word, she pulled the T-shirt over her head to reveal—her. Stark, raving naked.

  All of the air went out of Brandon’s lungs, and the shrinkage he’d worried about from the cold water was completely, throbbingly, reversed.

  She was exquisite, as he’d known she would be. Softly rounded in all the right places. He couldn’t decide what to look at first…those amazing breasts…the dark triangle at the apex of her thighs…slender waist…glorious legs…

  Before he could figure it out, she’d buckled a float around her waist and ran full speed off the edge of the boat.

  …

  Damn, the water was cold. There were dogs circling Lesa, trying to climb her while she treaded water.

  It had been totally worth it to see the look on Brandon’s face when she’d revealed herself to him, though. She’d really had him going, thinking she was mad at him and then pretending to want to wear the granny suit in the sun.

  The heat in his eyes cut through the chill in the water as he made his way back over the rocks to the water’s edge and let himself down into the lake.

  As he stroked his way through the water toward her, she shoved at the dogs. Seeing their master in the water distracted them enough to leave her, and he said something to them, threw a stick he’d grabbed from the shore back up on the rocks, and the dogs went after it.

  “Hi,” he said, when he was within a couple of feet of her position.

  “Hi,” she said back.

  His wet hair was pushed back from his high forehead, and he looked younger, more innocent. Like she imagined he’d been as an earnest teenager. The sun glinted on his pale gold skin.

  “Are you cold?” He looked down at her breasts, which bobbed at the water’s surface, nipples beaded harder than she thought they’d ever been.

  “Yeah, but I’m glad to see you, too.” She looked at him with all the want she’d been storing up for the days—weeks—years she’d known him. Because even though she hadn’t met him all that long ago, she’d let him get closer to her, to see more of her—inside—than she’d ever shown anyone else.

  He grinned and swam a little closer. “I’m glad to see you, too. So to speak.”

  She looked down, through the clear lake water to where Brandon’s legs treaded through the water, but the ripples made it difficult to see how glad he was.

  Teeth chattering, he laughed and said, “It might be June before my boys come back out of my body cavity to say hello, though.”

  She was cold, but his lips were blue, Lesa realized. Even though he’d gone onto shore for a few moments, he’d been wet longer than she had. “Let’s get out of this water.” She turned and paddled back toward the boat, and the ladder that hung from the side.

  She reached it first, and hung on to the rope, motioning for him to hurry. “Come on. Let’s get you warmed up.”

  “You go up the ladder first. That ought to get my furnace cranking.” He reached her side and floated into her with a well-aimed kiss. His lips were not hot.

  “No! Get in. Now.” She shoved him in front of her and followed him up the ladder, coming onto the deck immediately behind him and grabbing the towel she’d dropped before her skinny dip.

  He shed his life jacket as he turned and reached to unbuckle her float belt. She snapped the towel open behind her and wrapped their bodies in a cold, damp cocoon of terry cloth.

  His body warmed immediately against her bare front and seemed to be recovering from the cold quite well, based on the way the front of his swim trunks jabbed her in the belly.

  “I need to lose these wet pants,” he murmured against her. “Skin to skin is a more effective way to share body heat.”

  He wriggled and she felt the wet trunks hit the tops of her feet as he stepped out of them.

  And they were naked. Finally. At last. Suddenly, overwhelmingly pressed against each other.

  Lesa was suddenly shivering more than Brandon had been a moment before, but it wasn’t because she was cold. Everywhere her body touched his burned and was only soothed by more touching.

  His breath stuttered out of his chest when he lowered his mouth to hers, pressing his lips against hers, seeking entrance, nipping and licking.

  She kissed him back, inhaling his breath, holding his wet body against her. Every hair on his body stroked her smooth skin, sensitizing her, every nerve ending firing in want for his touch.

  His hands slid over her hips, pulling her even closer to him. Her fingers were tangled in the towel so she couldn’t touch him, but her breasts rubbed against his chest, nipples rasping in the coarse hair over his pecs, aching, sending pulses between her legs. She leaned even closer, until he finally, finally moved those hands higher and cupped each breast—both soothing the need and building it higher.

  His erection nestled into her belly, and her sex ached to feel him inside of her.

  “I want you,” he growled into her ear, the vibrations running along the side of her neck and down her spine to make her thighs clench.

  She might have whimpered, her knees definitely gave slightly, but he held her tight, like he might never let her go. A drop of sanity intruded, and she wondered, “Should we go inside?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, we should.” He loosened his hold on her—just as the boat began to rock. “What the—”

  Lesa lost her balance and Brandon caught her against him as Mabel or Maude, she wasn’t sure, clambered aboard the boat. The other dog followed, making the boat tip back and forth even more.

  The girls wound themselves between Lesa and Brandon’s legs, shaking and soaking their nearly dry bodies.

  “Argh!” Brandon shoved the dogs away, and Lesa rewrapped the towel around herself, laughing in spite of the frustration coursing through her body.

  “Maude, shoo. I never should have shown you how to use the damned ladder,” he cursed, shutting the gate then unbuckling the dogs’ life vests.

  He turned his head to look up at Lesa. “One thing I can tell you. These dogs are going to take a long, long nap now. I bet if you went and got the shower warmed up, I could guarantee that we’
ll be alone for at least the next hour or two.”

  “That’s something I can do,” she agreed and dropped the towel, padding through the living room of the houseboat.

  “Jesus, woman,” she heard Brandon curse behind her. “You’re gonna give me a heart attack if you keep walking around like that.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Brandon locked the sliding door behind him, sequestering the dogs on the deck of the boat. He grabbed a condom from the small duffel bag of overnight things he’d packed and went down the short hallway to the tiny bathroom. He paused for a moment to appreciate Lesa’s silhouette through the frosted glass of the shower enclosure.

  She stood in profile, back arched, hands in her glorious dark hair. Her figure was all curves and energy, never completely still, and pulling him forward with a force that he couldn’t resist.

  She wasn’t his forever woman. But for now, she was here, and she wanted him.

  His body throbbed in response to her presence, every muscle primed to claim her.

  Reaching behind to pull the door shut, she startled him by opening the shower door and sticking her head out.

  “Why are you locking the door? We’re alone here, right?”

  “I’m not taking any chances. The way things between us keep getting interrupted, the girls might sprout opposable thumbs before we seal this deal.”

  Her throaty laugh made his cock twitch.

  She noticed, and her eyes darkened, focused on him. Pushing the door of the shower open, she said, “Get in here.”

  And still he paused.

  “What are you waiting for?”

  “I—” He was such a sap. He’d been at least half-hard for this woman since he’d met her, and he just wanted to stand there and look at her smiling at him with water streaming over her shoulders onto her luscious curves. He wanted to preserve this moment to remember later, when she’d left, and his life had gone back to its normal, boring existence. Since when had he thought his regular life was boring? Since he’d met Lesa Ruiz.