Fix Me Not

by Carey Heywood

  Asher

  “Hey Noah. Sorry I missed your call. What's up? How's Finley?”

  “I'd be more surprised if you answered,” my big brother, Noah replies. “And, I see how it is, asking how Fin is and not me.”

  I lean back in my chair. “Can't help it, she's prettier.”

  “I can't argue with that,” he laughs. “We’re both doing good. In fact, I was calling to see if we could come up and use the cabin this weekend?”

  This weekend? I frown out the window, my eyes on my lake. Paige is coming by for her first swimming lesson this weekend. I'm not sure if having an audience will scare her off. There's only one way to find out.

  “You two are always welcome,” I reply.

  “Thanks Asher. Mom has been all over us to set a date but the thought of wedding planning is freaking Fin out. Thought some time at your cabin would be a nice surprise for her,” he says.

  “Yeah, I got that impression last time mom was here.”

  I hear his grunt of annoyance through the phone.

  “How's the garage coming?” I ask.

  Noah launches into an update of all the various improvements they're doing to their home.

  They met after Finley bought it and realized she was way over her head trying to fix it up herself. Noah convinced her to let him help out since working on houses is what he does for a living. Somewhere between putting up drywall and installing toilets they fell in love. Now they're engaged and the rest is history.

  Once he’s done giving me all of his updates, I figure I better warn him so he doesn’t make a big deal of Paige being there.

  “I might have a friend up for the day on Saturday.”

  There's a pause, and then he clears his voice. “A friend?”

  The surprise in his voice wasn't unexpected.

  “Yes,” I reply.

  “What kind of friend?”

  There are some families that live and let live, mine is not one of them. My brothers and sister are all very much up in each other’s business. By being out here, I avoid most of it but not all.

  “Her name is Paige,” I reply.

  He parrots my words back to me like a question, enunciating each one, “Her name is Paige?”

  “She's Millie’s daughter,” I explain.

  “Are you dating?”

  A couple weeks ago, the answer to that question would be a simple, resounding, no. Now, it's complicated. I can't deny I'm attracted to her and as much as she pisses me off, I like being around her.

  “She’s just a friend,” I say.

  “Interesting,” is his reply in a voice that tells me he does, in fact, think it’s very interesting.

  I start to second-guess letting him use the cabin.

  “We’ll come up early so we won't miss her,” he adds, smile evident in his voice.

  I close my eyes.

  Great.

  “Is she here yet?” Finley asks, giving me a hug.

  Noah answers for me, “Not unless she parks by the lake like Abby.” He looks at me. “Does she park up here or down by the beach?”

  “Up here,” I grumble.

  “I'm surprised you came out to meet us,” Finley says.

  I shrug. Truth is, I haven't been able to concentrate on the cabinets I'm building. Every sound I heard I thought was the crunch of tires on gravel. I've come out of my workshop at least ten times to investigate before I called it a day.

  I ignore her comment. “Need any help unloading?”

  Noah nods and we all move to the back of his truck.

  “It might be a little dusty in here,” I warn before Noah opens the door to my small guest cabin.

  Since Paige took over for her mom, I haven't asked her to clean anything other than my house.

  “We don't mind,” Finley replies. “Regular dust is better than drywall dust any day.”

  They've been building a big two car garage at the end of their driveway. “Already putting drywall up?” I ask impressed.

  Finley flexes her arm while Noah comes to stand behind her, circling her waist with his arms. “She's a machine, makes me look like a slacker.”

  There's no way Noah would ever slack around Finley. It's cool to hear him rave about her the way he does. They're a team, completely happy and loving life as long as they're working side by side.

  “You ever want to come build stuff up here, you let me know,” I joke.

  Finley shakes her head. “No way. This place is already perfect the way it is.”

  I can't argue with that.

  “When are you expecting her?” Noah asks, his curiosity over Paige not abated.

  “She works mornings at the coffee place in town. I think she's coming straight from there,” I reply.

  “Are we allowed to meet her or do you need privacy?” Finley asks with an impish grin.

  “You don't have to hide in the cabin while she's here.”

  “We may want to,” Noah replies suggestively.

  Finley swats his stomach, blushing.

  “On that note,” I reply, and walk out the door.

  Neither of them stop me so there's a good chance Noah is planning on making good on his suggestion.

  I make my way down to the dock. Over the years I've accumulated a lot of floats, noodles, and rafts. Sorting through them, I pick out ones that will be useful in my lesson. I've never asked her age, but I'm guessing Paige is either in her late twenties or early thirties. To have gone this long without learning how to swim leads me to believe she might be scared of water.

  I don't want to rush her if it's already something she has issues with. After I have a small pile separated, I pull out the hose and clean off whatever dust settled on them since their last use.

  I have them all spaced out and drying on the dock when Noah and a very flushed Finley walk down to join me. Noah’s got his swim shorts on and since they're both carrying beach towels, I'm guessing Finley has her suit on under the little cover up thing she's wearing.

  “Is it cool if we take the stand up paddle boards out?” Noah asks. “Fin has never been on one.”

  “Go for it,” I say. “Water’s still cold the deeper you go.”

  “We’ll stay close to shore until I get the hang of it,” Finley promises.

  Noah helps me get them out of my shed while Finley oversees us. They waste no time getting out onto the water. Finley is a strong swimmer but still falls off the board a few times.

  I'm grinning, watching her pull herself back onto it when I hear, “Who are they?”

  Paige stands a few feet behind me, her hands on her hips.

  Raising my hand, I point, “That's my older brother Noah and his fiancée Finley.”

  “Should I come back later? I don't want to intrude if you have company.”

  I drop my arm. “Are you trying to get out of your lesson?” I ask.

  She frowns, “Maybe.”

  For some reason, this makes me laugh. “Go get changed and meet me back here.”

  She grumbles something that sounds a lot like, “Bossy bearded bastard,” under her breath as she stomps away. That only makes me laugh harder.

  While she changes, I pull off my shirt and walk over to the beach. Dropping it on the sand, I go back to watching Noah and Finley.

  She doesn't make me wait long. I don't hear her approach and don't realize she's here until she's standing next to me, slipping off her flip flops. Her face is free of makeup, blonde hair falling in soft waves to the tops of her shoulders. My eyes move to her legs, then up, up, until they freeze.

  For some reason, I hadn't put much thought into what type of swimsuit Paige would wear.

  I gulp, then pray to God she didn't hear it. The technical term for what she's wearing is a bikini, or two piece, but, neither of those terms correctly describes it. There’s not much to it at all.

  The top ties around her shoulders and could be considered conservative for the amount of skin it covers if the majority of it weren't made out of what looks like netting. The s
ame holds true for the bottoms, with delicate strings tied at her hips.

  The tops she wears to the bar all have V-necks so I was fully aware of her curves. That knowledge did not prepare me for this. I wonder how soft her skin would feel against my fingertips, and what her body would feel like in my arms.

  “Ready?” I ask, hopeful my voice sounds normal.

  Barefoot, standing in front of me, I tower over her. I have to restrain the urge to pick her up since she'd probably kick my ass if I did.

  “You promised you'd be gentle,” she replies, a weary expression clouding her features.

  “I did, and I will,” I say, meaning each and every word.

  She turns to look out over the lake. “We won't go in too deep, will we?”

  I shake my head. “I'll go easy on you.”

  Before I can think better of it, I reach for her hands to tug her to the water's edge. Walking backward, my eyes locked to hers, water covers my feet. Her hands are small and warm in mine. To my relief, she doesn't pull away.

  “Holy hell that's cold,” she gasps as soon as the water hits her skin.

  “You can do this,” I encourage, leading her in further.

  The beach on my lake is more rocky than sandy. We carefully make our way across it. When the water reaches her waist, we stop.

  “How do you feel so far?” I ask, making a point to keep my eyes on her face.

  It's hard, her bikini is drawing attention to itself and her curves.

  “This is about the deepest I've ever been in.” She shrugs her delicate shoulders then a frown mars her face. “It's once my feet can’t touch the bottom that worries me.”

  “Have you ever floated?” I ask.

  She shakes her head.

  “It'll be our first lesson.”

  “Do we have to go much deeper?”

  With our height difference, I understand her concern. “Only a bit deeper.”

  Once the water reaches above my waist I stop us.

  “When it's your turn, I'll help you, but first I want you to watch me float.”

  She takes a step back when I release her hand and nods. I sink down into the water, until I'm close to sitting. Then, leaning back as I stretch out my arms and legs, I allow my body to become weightless on the water.

  My eyes focus lazily on the clouds moving overhead. When I come out to the lake, it's to swim. Until this moment, I've forgotten how relaxing floating can be. Since Paige is waiting for me, I lift my head, allowing my feet to fall back to the bottom of the lake. Her eyes are on me when I look to her.

  “Ready to give it a shot?” I ask, reaching out for her hand.

  She hesitates before her hand slides into my grasp. “Yes.”

  Easing her closer, my chest tightens when I circle her with my arms. With parted lips, she stares up at me.

  “I've got you,” I promise. “Lean back and I'll hold you up.”

  Her hands come up to grip my arm, the only sign of her fear. Despite that fear, she leans back. I move my hand, flattening it on her bare back to support her.

  “You need to let go of my arm,” I say.

  When she does, I shift it under her back as well and move my other hand to cradle the back of her head as it meets the water.

  Without my hands she'd sink, her body too stiff to float on its own. Even her head barely touches my palm, where she should relax the weight of it back onto me.

  I push my hand upward, lifting her head up out of the water before moving it to her waist to steady her as she stands.

  “I don't think I was doing it right,” she says as soon as she's upright.

  “You were too tense. You need to relax into it.”

  Her hands ball into fists. “How am I supposed to relax into it when I'm freaking out?”

  My hands move to her shoulders and I begin to massage them. She stiffens, her shoulders coming up in defense.

  “You need to relax your muscles.”

  Slowly, ever so slowly, some tension leaves her body.

  “Do you trust me? I won’t let you sink. I promise.”

  She looks at me deeply before replying by a simple nod of her head.

  “Ready to try again?” I ask.

  She squares her shoulders, determination in her eyes. I move to her side to cup the back of her head and again flatten my hand on her back.

  She turns her face to look at me. “You’re even bigger up close.”

  One side of my mouth tips up. I decide against replying.

  She sighs and again looks forward. Then, shifting her gaze upward, she surprises me by falling backward against my hands. I bite back a laugh as I gently lower her onto the water.

  This time she seems to trust my hold more, the weight of her head against my palm greater than it was before. She squints up at me.

  After a minute or so, I ease her back up.

  As soon as she's standing, she asks, “Why didn't you let go?”

  “I wasn't going to do it without warning you first,” I reply.

  Her brows come together. “Really?”

  I nod.

  “Can I see you float again?”

  Shrugging, I take a step away, conscious of her eyes on me. As I lower myself into the water I hold her gaze. Once my eyes face the sky, I close them. Noah and Finley have stayed across the lake so far, but for how long?

  I can't decide whether I'd appreciate their presence or not. It's pointless to ignore the effect she has on me. I can barely keep my hands off of her as it is. Since I need to touch her right now I'm screwed.

  With the distraction of Noah and Finley, maybe she wouldn't notice how my touch lingers.

  Water splashes into my face and I come up sputtering.

  Paige is there, hip cocked and hand planted on it. “My turn.”

  “I should dunk you for that,” I reply, wiping water from my face.

  She tenses but shows no other sign of fear. Like a raging lion she stares me down.

  “You were taking too long.”

  “Alright, get over here and show me how it's done.”

  With a huff she comes to me. Her self-assured strut falters when she trips on a rock. Arms flailing, she falls into me. My arms circle her to keep her from falling further, her hands braced against my abs.

  “Oh crap,” she blurts.

  “You okay?” I ask.

  Pushing away from me, she straightens as I loosen my grip.

  “I tripped,” she says.

  “I noticed,” I bite back a smirk at her obvious explanation.

  She shakes off my arms and pulls back. “I'm not clumsy.”

  Strange as it sounds, I like it when she's argumentative. “Never said you were.”

  She folds her arms across her chest, which only accentuates her shape. Turning quickly, her hair flings droplets of water my way.

  “This time if it looks like I'm doing it right, pull your hands away.”

  I don't reply with words, instead I again cup the back of her head and flatten my palm against the small of her back as I lower her onto the water.

  My gaze is drawn to her face. In getting to know her better I've grown accustomed to the determined expression she always wears. In the beginning, I had assumed it was her spoiled attitude. I was an ass for not seeing beyond that.

  The whole point of floating is to let go. Problem is, she’s trying to conquer it like she does everything else. I drop my hand from her back and the bottom half of her immediately sinks under the water.

  She gets to her feet and stands, her hands balling into fists. “Why can't I do it?”

  “You're still too tense,” I reply.

  “I am not,” she argues.

  “Then why are your shoulders touching your ear lobes?” I ask.

  She forces them down with a growl.

  “Want to try something else and come back to this later?”

  Her brows come together again, her frustration at not being able to float evident.

  “Little kids can float. Why can't I?”
r />   “You're trying to force it by overthinking it.” I explain.

  She slaps her hand against the water. “I can't help it.”

  “Think about something else.”

  She frowns. “Like what?”

  “Like this,” I say, pressing my mouth to hers.

  She gasps, her hands coming to my waist. I'm relieved when she doesn't use them to push me away. Her full lips are soft, and damp from the lake water. My hand cups the back of her head yet again, this time to hold her face to mine.

  I haven’t kissed a woman in years. Before Paige, I haven’t wanted to. Now, I don’t want to stop. Everything about her calls to me. Hell, even the way I have to bend down to take her mouth is turning me on. Nothing has ever felt this right.

  Even though I don't want to, I lift my lips from hers. “Like that.”

  She blinks open her eyes. “What?”

  I reach up to push her hair back from her face. “Think about that kiss instead.”

  Ten

  Paige

  He kissed me. I’ll be lucky if I think about anything else ever again. Why did he stop? He went back to teaching me how to swim like he didn’t just rock my world. Did I imagine the whole thing? Was it some sort of sunstroke sex dream with no sex?

  No, he kissed me that I’m sure of. Even now I can still feel the press of his lips to mine. He said he wanted me to think of something else. Well, his plan definitely worked.

  I lean back into the water once more, his large palm cradling my head as his other hand rests like a hot brand against my back.

  The cool water does little to dull the heat of his touch. Each time I try to float I looked at the sky or closed my eyes. This time I stare at him as he gazes down at me. Neither of us says a thing. Even if he spoke, I'm not sure I could hear him with the water covering my ears.

  The sun is behind him, illuminating him with a soft glow. Tiny droplets of water still cling to his beard. How is it possible I never liked beards? That's not to say I wouldn't mind seeing him clean-shaven.

  I lazily stretch my arms out to either side. Curling and uncurling my fingers, I imagine what they would feel like in his hair.

  His eyes remain on me.

  Can he tell what I'm thinking?