by Abby Knox
She looked like she’d been on the verge of crying. It stirred something inside of Matthew. Something primal and protective.
“Did you need something?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said. “A boat ride.”
The smile that transformed Gretchen’s face and brightened her eyes was nothing less than angelic.
She was so radiant it stabbed Matthew through the heart.
Don’t be the melancholy professor, that’s the opposite of sexy, he told himself.
Still, he knew that if she were his, he would live every day to make her smile like that.
9
Gretchen
“So, how much of that conversation with my boyfriend did you hear?”
She floated the question breezily after cutting the outboard engine and let the current take her little boat, which she’d named the “Anne with an E” downriver toward the lake.
The river was calm and quiet, not yet overly populated with jet skiers and kayakers. The sun was already enhancing her tan, and the breeze was just about perfect for September. The only thing she regretted was not bringing some beer and a fishing pole.
She studied Matthew’s face; he seemed embarrassed at first that he’d been caught eavesdropping. But then he relaxed when she gave him her casual smile.
“Just caught the end of it.”
“So you must wonder what I’m doing with a guy like that.”
Matthew’s eyes seared into her. “What I’m wondering is why you asked me to spend the day with you first. Before calling him.”
Gretchen was taken aback by that. People usually didn’t call her out on her motivations. This felt weird.
“Well, you are here, and Nicholas is in Detroit. You seemed like the obvious choice.”
Matthew was sitting on the bench facing the stern, his knees nearly touching hers. Her hand was still gripping the steering handle of the motor. She let it go to square her shoulders in Matthew’s direction. He felt like true north and she could not resist his pull. “Is proximity the only reason why I was your first choice?”
She smirked. “I can’t tell if you’re cocky or simply curious or both.”
Gretchen stared at him to see if she could find the answer in his face, but he wasn’t giving her any clues, other than a white-hot stare through those piercing eyes.
His shirt clung to his broad shoulders and the sun was making her feel extra warm.
He finally replied, “I don’t know how to answer that, either. I’m not sure myself. But I do know that if I were Nicholas, I’d be burning rubber to get to you. Especially if I knew you were alone at the resort with a wickedly handsome stranger from New York.”
Matthew gave her a wink.
Gretchen shook her head. “It’s getting deep in this boat.”
She finally broke eye contact and glanced over toward Crescent Bay but didn’t see her friend George. Ike and Regina were nowhere to be seen either.
The fact that they were away from the prying eyes of neighbors made her insides giddy, against all morals she believed in.
“Want to head over to the lake for a swim? I need some exercise, and I think you might need to cool down,” she said.
10
Matthew
She was not wrong about him needing to cool down, and the massive lake fit the bill. It was somehow much cooler than the river, and choppier as the wind swept across miles and miles of open water.
But instead of shrinking his nuts up into his body, Matthew was more turned on than ever.
He removed his shirt and dove in, letting the clear lake water cool him down and remind him of his moral compass.
When he surfaced, he was treated to a full view of Gretchen pulling off her lacy orange cover-up and revealing the sexiest damn swimsuit he’d ever seen. It wasn’t a bikini like the one she’d worn the other day when he’d been driven to skip out on his morning run and take care of his morning wood.
In fact, it was quite modest: a vintage-style two piece that came down to the tops of her thighs. The halter top extended down to the bottom of her rib cage, and only about five inches of her midsection above her navel was showing. The whole thing was covered in navy and white pinstripes. The overall effect was that of an innocent 1950s pinup model.
It defined her strong swimmer’s body and accentuated the medium-large curves of her breasts, the sway of her hips.
Gretchen bent at the waist and dove into the water expertly, barely producing a splash. In that half a second before she hit the water, Matthew was gifted with a clear shot of her cleavage. His grateful cock reacted with firm approval.
Some untapped primal force put an unexpected thought into Matthew’s mind: How hot would she look in that swimsuit while pregnant with my baby?
Where that thought had come from, he didn’t know.
But he knew he shouldn’t be thinking it.
She’s got a boyfriend.
She’s got a serious boyfriend.
But how serious could he be when he’s hours away and Matthew has been here a couple of weeks and never laid eyes on him?
He tried to stop thinking these things while they swam together in the lake, but his dick just would not let it drop.
The real question now was, how was Matthew going to get back into the boat and be able to hide his very large hard-on with his shorts clinging to his body?
Think of dead puppies, friend. Think of deadlines. Think of paper cuts. Think of your computer crashing with nothing backed up. Think of Haiti.
Shit. No. Don’t think about Haiti. Breathe.
And then, as he floated on his back and closed his eyes against the sunlight, there she was, floating next to him in a tube, wet skin glistening in the sun.
This was going to be one long, hard sabbatical.
11
Gretchen
They spent the entire day tubing, swimming, and talking over beers that she’d packed in the cooler.
She told herself it was all as innocent as it would be if she and Matthew were brother and sister.
Matthew opened a second can of beer for her. When the foam spilled over, he cleaned it up by sucking up the icy froth and the spilled beer off the can with his perfect, full lips.
Gretchen watched this while trying not to salivate. But aren’t you glad he’s not your brother? whispered Gretchen’s reptile brain.
“Shut up,” she said aloud. Matthew handed her the beer.
“What?” he asked.
“Uh,” she stammered. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud. I guess I spend too much time alone and I tend to talk to myself. I should stop doing that when I’m actually around other people.”
He grinned at her. “Talk to yourself all you want; I like the sound of your voice.”
Gretchen felt his eyes travel from her eyes to her lips, and slowly down her neck. Her nethers were already on fire before his gaze arrived there.
“Matthew.”
“What?”
She drew a shaky breath. She wanted to ask him to stop flirting. But then, she really didn’t. So she thought of a new subject.
“Do you like jet skis?”
“I think they’re stupid and dangerous,” he replied.
“Oh,” she said. “Well, do you know anything about motors? I have an old one I bought at a yard sale and I’d like to test it out before I put it in storage for the winter.”
He chuckled. “You just heard me say I think they’re stupid and dangerous. Do you really think I want to help you get it working so you can act stupid and dangerous?”
She shrugged. “Maybe I am stupid and dangerous.”
His voice lowered to a dark pitch with an edge of bossiness to it. “Gretchen, there’s only one thing stupid about you. And that is the person who has a hold on you in Detroit. He’s not good enough for you.”
Gretchen looked away from his gaze. “I think we might be dangerous for each other.”
He edged closer to her, so his lips were inches away from hers. “You have a way
of making a man do dangerous things. But I’ve seen danger. There’s nothing about us, here, today, that scares me.”
She sipped her beer because she couldn’t think of anything else to do to keep distance between herself and Matthew.
“I shouldn’t have brought you out here.”
He reached over and smoothed the back of his fingers against her leg. His touch sent sparks of heat surging up and down the surface of her skin. Her nipples hardened. Her pussy drenched itself. Matthew was going to kiss her. And for a moment she thought she might actually let him.
But then, he didn’t.
Maybe he saw the guilt and fear in her eyes. Maybe that was it. But whatever it was, he backed away.
“I think I smell the campfire. We should get you back home.”
Relief combined with disappointment flooded her chest.
But the truth was, she was famished after a day of swimming, tubing and drinking under the sun.
“Yeah,” she agreed, swallowing the rest of her beer. “We’ve both had enough sun. Why don’t you come with me to Regina’s for food tonight? Everyone wants to meet you.”
“Why do they want to meet me?” he asked as she yanked the pull cord of the outboard motor.
“Dude, you’re all anybody’s talking about on Sandy Lane. This is a tiny resort area with nothing else to do in September than gossip! You’re literally the only tourist left. You’re an enigma.”
Matthew scoffed and reached for his shirt. He pulled it on while explaining, “I’m not a tourist I’m a professor on sabbatical.”
Gretchen disagreed. “So you’ve said. You’re not from here, therefore you’re a tourist.” The engine rattled once and went silent. “And as such, you are invited to eat with us.”
He shook his head in resignation. “Fine, but in that case, move over. I’m going to drive you home.”
“Why?” She hesitated handing control of the Anne with an E over to someone else.
“Because I’m not a tourist. I’m a man. And a man drives a woman home at the end of a date.”
Well, he certainly was a man. A man who was here. Giving her some serious vibes.
Gretchen felt indignant at the idea that this whole day had been a date. She knew she would never, could never, cheat on Nicholas. She’d never been a cheater, not in her whole life.
And she wasn’t about to start now.
But damn, Matthew looked good, tight shirt, chest muscles flexing as he tried to start the motor.
It turned over again and then stopped. He yanked the cord again. Same result.
“OK, just chill for a minute you’re going to flood…”
But he did it again and sure as anything, the motor flooded.
Gretchen sighed. “We’re going to have to wait for it to go back down before we can try again.”
He rubbed his face. “That’s unfortunate because I really would like to get out of this boat now.”
“OK. I thought we had fun today,” Gretchen said, noting Matthew’s sudden shift in tone.
He glared at her. “We are having fun. A little too much fun. But you have a boyfriend and I’m being an asshole.”
“How so?”
“Because all I can think about is wrecking a relationship when I’m with you.”
“Why would you want to do that?”
“For the same damn reasons you do.”
“I want no such thing,” she said with a scoff.
“Really? Tell me you’re not into me at all, not even a little bit, and I’ll never bring it up again.”
She shook her head. “This is not appropriate.”
“Nothing about physical attraction is appropriate. But the truth is, I want you . As soon as we get back to the dock, I’m going straight back to my shower to rub one out while picturing your legs wrapped around me, Gretchen. Because if I have to spend another minute with you, I’m going to kiss you. Is that what you want?”
She gasped. But it was not out of surprise. It was white-hot need. “No.”
“You don’t?” He looked angry.
“No, I don’t want you to kiss me because it would be wrong.”
“Would it? You have no idea what kind of wrongness is in the world. Compared to all of that, there is nothing wrong with us.”
“Stop. Please.”
“Tell me you’re not into me.”
She thought about it for a long time and put her face into her hands, cupping her eyes and pressing her fingers into her forehead. “I’m not into you. I can’t be into you. You’re a renter, and we had a nice time because we didn’t want to be alone today. And that’s all there is to it.”
“So I’m a paycheck to you, same as you’re a paycheck to Nicholas.”
“That’s not true.”
“No, it is true.”
She finally shouted, full of liquid courage. “Wow. You really are an asshole!”
“I know!” he shouted back.
“Here, let me start the engine.”
“No,” he said. “I got it.”
He tried again, but this time it didn’t even turn over.
“There’s something wrong,” she said.
“What is it?”
“I don’t know I’ll have to have someone look at it!” she shouted.
Just then, George was trolling by on his pontoon boat. “Need a lift?”
“No, we got it,” Matthew said.
“Yeah, we do,” Gretchen disagreed.
“Hold on, I’ll get you lashed and back home in a jiff,” George hollered. The old man muttered as he and Gretchen worked to attach the bow of her boat to the back of his pontoon. In a few short minutes, they were off and running, being towed back to the dock at River Rocks.
When they drew closer to home, they saw that there was someone standing there waiting for them.
Who on earth is on my dock? Gretchen wondered.
As they got closer, she realized who it was.
Nicholas!
Her stomach dropped into her toes and then surged upward. She checked all her feelings. Dread. Guilt. Panic.
But why? Why would she be feeling all these things about her boyfriend suddenly showing up to see her?
12
Matthew
As soon as George had eased the Anne with an E up to the dock, Matthew realized who it was standing there. The man wore a polo shirt that clashed with the strictly tee-shirt atmosphere of River Rocks. Not to mention chinos, boat shoes and crossed arms that revealed a pinky ring that glinted in the orange evening sunlight. He had the body language and facial expression of a put-upon golf pro.
Matthew knew it could be nobody but Gretchen’s boyfriend, Nicholas.
Funny. She didn’t seem like the kind of girl who would go for a guy who wore pinky rings.
Matthew knew he should give the man the benefit of the doubt. Maybe the ring was an heirloom from a grandfather or something.
Nope, he’s just vain, his gut told him.
“Who’s your friend?”
Matthew decided to keep quiet and let Gretchen answer.
“Nicholas, this is Matthew; Matthew, this is my boyfriend, Nicholas.”
Matthew couldn’t be sure, but he detected hesitation in Gretchen’s voice before blurting out the word “boyfriend.”
The look on Nicholas’s face told him he sensed that hesitation from her as well.
Matthew hopped onto the dock and reached out his hand to help Gretchen out of the boat. He wondered why Nicholas wasn’t pushing him off the pier for even touching his girl.
George exited the pontoon boat, took a look at the boyfriend and then looked at Matthew, and then Gretchen, and back at the boyfriend. The old man puffed on his pipe, shook his head, and muttered something about being hungrier than a bear after a long hibernation.
Nicholas shook Matthew’s hand. He tried to pull Matthew toward him with the power move, but it didn't work on him. Matthew was about a head taller and had about 30 pounds on him.
Matthew winced as he watched Gre
tchen put her arms around Nicholas’s neck; the only comfort was it looked like the kind of hug a woman might give her annoying brother. “Nicholas? What are you doing here?”
He shrugged. “You don’t sound very excited to see me.”
She blushed. “Oh, honey, that’s not it. It’s just really unexpected!”
Her voice sounded like she was working really hard to sound breezy, and the overall effect was awkward and uncomfortable. Kind of like how Matthew felt.
Looking at George’s face, and the staring faces of all of Gretchen’s neighbors around the campfire next door, visible from the dock, that was how everyone within the vicinity of River Rocks was feeling at the moment.
“Well,” said Nicholas, “I heard something about a barbecue.”
Gretchen said, “Oh yeah, Regina is cooking out venison steaks and George brought some fish. Should be fantastic.”
Nicholas made a face. “Venison?”
“It’s good,” she assured him.
“I brought some vegetarian patties,” he said, smugly.
“But you’re not even a vegetarian,” she chuckled.
Nicholas ignored this and instead focused his attention on Matthew.
“Staying for the party, Matthew? Surely, you’ve had enough time with Gretchen. You probably want to get back to writing your little book or whatever.”
Matthew turned toward the shore and yearned to sprint back to his cabin and get away from this toxic mess. “Yes, actually. Been spending quite enough time today messing around.”
Gretchen’s eyes widened at his ill-chosen use of the phrase “messing around,” and he instantly regretted it.
“I insist you don’t feel obligated to entertain my woman any longer,” Nicholas said. With that, he snaked an arm around Gretchen and placed a kiss on top of her damp hair. Matthew could see her tight smile. No way was he going to leave her alone with this meathead.
“Actually, I think I’ll stay for the party. I’m famished.”
13