Depths of Lake

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Depths of Lake Page 18

by Keary Taylor


  And he’d never terrorize another woman again.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  When Lake and I walk out of the police station that evening, I want to laugh and to cry and to give a huge sigh of relief.

  As the warm summer air hits my skin when we stop on the sidewalk, I stop. I close my eyes. I tell myself that it’s over. I tell myself that it’s okay for me to relax. I tell myself that it’s time.

  It’s time to move on.

  I open my eyes, and there Lake is. Standing just a few feet away from me.

  There’s uncertainty in his expression. I’m learning to read Lake’s unreadable eyes lately. I think there was always a little bit of something there. I just didn’t speak the language. But I’m learning it. Slowly.

  “I promise I wasn’t walking away from the job,” he says. He stands there, like he’s not quite sure if he should approach or keep his distance. “I just needed a few days to clear my head.”

  “It’s okay,” I say. I stand there frozen, rooted on the spot. “Though I wasn’t sure if you were coming back or not.”

  There’s a flicker in his eyes that tells me, for a second there, he wasn’t sure if he was or not either. “I called Kyle to keep an eye out for that bastard. I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier this morning. That asshole—”

  “I think we should take the rest of the day off,” I cut him off and shake my head. My heart is racing and my stomach is full of flutters. “I…I want to take you somewhere.”

  “Okay,” he says, just like that.

  Easy as can be, he and I climb back into his truck, and drive home. I take him to the barn, and we roll out the four wheelers.

  Lake follows me, and I lead him back along the property. We cut through the trees, a part of the ranch I’m sure he’s never been on before. Towering evergreens surround us, ferns and undergrowth on either side of the barely visible trail. On for five minutes.

  And then we break into the clearing.

  It isn’t big, maybe a half acre in size. Tall grasses span out before giving way to the rocky, sandy beach that drops down into the lake. A small dock juts out over its glassy smooth surface.

  “Come on,” I say as I climb of my machine and turn the key off. Lake does the same. I set out toward the dock. I look over my shoulder and see him following me.

  A rowboat is tied up to the side of the dock. It bobs up and down as I step inside and bobs a lot harder when Lake climbs in. He pulls the oars out from the bottom of the boat and fits them into their handholds. I untie us and then he starts rowing us out over the water.

  Neither of us says anything as we cut through the smooth water. Birds chirp around us, the oars splash softly. A gentle breeze brushes through the trees that surround us.

  When we reach the middle of the lake, he stops, pulling the oars in.

  “I found a letter, from Cal,” I say. I feel Lake’s eyes shift to me, but I keep my own fixed on my hands in my lap. “It was hidden in my ring box. You can probably guess what it said.”

  Lake shifts positions, one foot stretching forward, his forearm resting on his knee. His other hand rests on his hip.

  “But I’ve come to realize something the last few days,” I continue. “I wasn’t ready to let Cal go. I guess that’s not the right way to put it, because I’ll never really let him go. But I wasn’t ready to move forward. I wasn’t done mourning him.”

  “We all process in our own time,” he says.

  Finally, I look up at Lake and nod. “For a long time, I’ve felt like if I moved on that I was betraying Cal. That I would be dishonoring him and his memory by feeling anything like what I felt for him about someone else. But…” Emotion threatens the back of my eyes, but I push it away. I’m done crying. I’m done feeling like an emotional wreck. I’m ready to be me again. Me who is bold and brave. “But that’s not what he wanted. And that’s not how I want to feel.”

  Lake holds my eyes, firm and true. He drags his feet toward him, resting his forearms on his knees, his fingers clasped together.

  “I don’t know that I can say that I’m in love with you, Lake,” I say as I hold his gaze intensely. “But I do know that I’ve been lying to myself and lying to you for the past few months. I do want to breathe again. I don’t want to suffocate. And when I’m with you, I don’t feel like I’m drowning anymore.”

  There isn’t much space between us. Our benches are close, and it only takes a little bit of leaning forward on both our parts to close the distance between us.

  When things have gotten too intimate or too personal these past few months, one of us has walked out. We’ve run away from each other and the truth of what has been building between us.

  But I know it now. I know it the same way I know the moon will come out tonight and the stars will shine. No more walking away from each other.

  “I’m still here, Riley,” Lake says in a whisper. His eyes right now? They are amazingly alive. “Breathe with me.”

  Lake’s hand comes up to the side of my face. His skin is rough and calloused, but his touch is gentle. He holds my eyes as we get closer and closer. My own hand comes around the back of his head, my fingers wrapping in his hair.

  Our lips together are hesitant and soft when they meet. They linger, still and unsure, as if we’re testing to see if there is still that something between us that was there up in his apartment.

  But these lips know each other. These souls have experienced the same great loss, and these two people have accomplished incredible things together.

  So it only takes a few moments for our lips to deepen into one another.

  My lips part at the same time Lake’s do. His tongue invades my mouth and every cell in my body comes to life again. With the need to be closer, I crawl into Lake’s lap, my legs wrapping around his waist. His enormous hands press into my back, holding me closer. My arms wrap behind his neck, and he reminds me of what it’s like to be alive.

  I’ve been constantly guilty of comparing Lake to Cal since I met him. And even Kyle at times. But right here in this moment, it’s just Lake.

  Lake understands me in a way that no one else could. He knows the pain I’ve gone through. He knows the hardships that come with the service, for those that serve, and for those that sacrifice for them to serve. He knows my love for this land we occupy. He knows how I love the hard work we do day in and day out.

  And as we intertwine, I know he can feel that I’m ready for him. I’m right where I belong. With someone who understands me and my own depths. Who was patient enough to wait for me to surface.

  And now I’m ready.

  A smile crosses my lips, and I pull Lake’s shirt up and over his head. And something I have yet to see comes over his own face. A smile. A real, true blue smile. It’s bright, and crooked, and it does something to my core that I can’t quite explain.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen you smile before,” I say as I look down at him.

  “It’s been a while since I had a reason to,” he replies as he leans forward and presses his lips to my neck. His fingers make stealthy work as they slip under my tank top, relieving me of it. “Riley, I never thought I’d ever feel what I feel for you, about anyone. You’re…”

  “Oxygen?” I breathe into him. Because that’s exactly what he feels like.

  “Something like that,” he says with that grin as he presses kisses to my jawline. “But a hell of a lot more than just that.”

  “I know how you feel,” I say as I place a hand on either side of his face.

  And in this moment, I feel whole.

  There is no Travis and no hurt. There’s just this moment that is perfect, and exactly when it was supposed to happen.

  Lake’s fingers reach between us, and make swift work of unbuttoning my jeans. His fingers brushing my bare stomach make my insides go ballistic. “Care to join me for a swim?” he teases.

  “Yeah,” I say, smiling ridiculously as I nod. I climb off his lap and kick my boots off. I peel off my jeans, watchin
g Lake do the same.

  Together, in only our underwear, and oh what a glorious sight nearly-naked Lake is, we stand on our benches, hand in hand. “On three?” he asks. He looks over at me, that boyish grin still on his face. It really is an amazing thing. His smile. I can’t get enough of it.

  I bite my lower lip and nod.

  “One, two, three!”

  I nearly jump, but at the last second, I panic, let go of Lake’s hand, and he launches himself into the water without me. A screaming squeal leaps out of me as his wake splashes over me.

  “You cheat!” he calls when he surfaces. He wipes the water from his eyes and squints up at me. “You can’t back out of something like that. There’s this thing called trust, Riley.”

  “It looks so cold!” I squeal. Goosebumps are already flashing over my skin. The air is warm, but it’s getting late, and I’m standing here in only my bra and panties.

  “Get in the water!” he taunts me, that lopsided smile wide.

  “You going to make me?” I tease him right back.

  “Riley James, you get in this water right now, or I will make you,” he growls, trying to be serious. But that smile won’t leave his face.

  “Excuse me!” I mock offense. I put my hands on my hips and everything. I give him a narrowed look.

  “I’m sorry, Baby,” he says, putting a stop hand up, even as he treads water. “Just get in, please.”

  Then there’s a mischievous glint in his eye. Before I can do a thing, he lunges forward, grabs the side of the canoe, and tips me right in.

  I splash into the water, landing half on top of him. As I break to the surface, I send a splashing wave into his face.

  “So that’s how it’s going to be, huh?” I say as I push myself toward him. With a great kick, I surge myself up, put my hands on his head, and dunk him under the water. Which works, until he grabs one of my feet, and pulls me under with him.

  We both surface, laughing, and coughing water a little. “Okay, maybe we end this game before one of us drowns,” I say as I doggy paddle in the water.

  Lake grabs the side of the boat, and wraps his other hand around my waist, pulling me near. “I like seeing this side of you,” he says quietly. We’re so close, I can see the water droplets holding onto his eyelashes.

  “It’s nice to see this side of myself again,” I say as I study his lips once more. “And I like seeing the real Lake McCain. I knew he was under the surface somewhere.”

  He smiles and then leans in, kissing me softly.

  “Call me baby again,” I breathe.

  “Anything you want, Baby,” he whispers into my lips. His eyelashes brush against mine, sending a million tingles up my spine.

  A few minutes later, we climb back into the boat with some effort. It’s a trick to get Lake back in. He’s so huge that every time he attempts to get inside, he nearly capsizes us. But finally, he makes it.

  I unearth the blanket that is stored in one end of the canoe, in a waterproof compartment. Lake and I snuggle up on one end of the boat, lying down as best we can with the benches in the way. I lay curled up into his side, his arms wrapped around me.

  It’s peaceful, and quiet, a completely perfect.

  My fingers trace over the stars tattooed over Lake’s right breast, just over his heart. “They’re for your brothers who didn’t make it home, aren’t they?” I say quietly.

  Lake nods, his scratchy cheek brushing in my wet hair. My finger traces the points of the last star, the one I know is for Cal.

  “Riley, there’s something I need to tell you,” Lake says quietly. As he says it, his arms tighten around me just slightly.

  “What is it?” I ask, pressing my cheek into his chest just a little harder.

  “I’ve been called back into service,” he says.

  My entire body slows, as if it’s had hot lead poured into my veins and it’s hardening quickly. My stomach sinks.

  “I’ve got one more year of IRR service before I hit my ten year limit,” Lake continues. “I got the call yesterday that with all the turmoil going on in the middle east, they need experienced sergeants back.”

  “For how long?” I ask through the metal ball that’s suddenly lodged in my throat.

  “Just four months,” he says. “I have to report for duty in three weeks.”

  Once again, moisture bites the back of my eyes. It threatens to push me over the edge, back to the dark place again.

  But I just got out of that dark place. And I don’t want to go back.

  I look up at Lake. His eyes are regretful and open. He doesn’t want to go. But it’s there. He loves his country, being a soldier is part of who he is.

  “Then we’ll just have to make the most out of our three weeks.” I push myself up and my lips meet his.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  “Right through here is the tack room,” Lake says. I watch him from the back porch as he shows Dale what his duties will be. “Lunge lines go there. You can see where everything else goes. Riley likes things pretty clean, so don’t slack on that. You said you’d worked with horses before?”

  “Yes, sir,” Dale says. I can’t see him. He’s too far into the barn. “I grew up in Montana. Most everyone out there knows how to ride.”

  “I would guess they do.” Lake smiles.

  When we got back from the lake on Tuesday, Lake posted another help wanted ad. We upped the pay, so it wasn’t a complete shock when Dale, a retired police officer from Bothell with no wife or kids, responded to the ad. We both interviewed him. And hired him on the spot.

  “So, just keep an eye on Riley, she’ll tell you what horses she needs you to get ready, but sometimes she forgets and gets busy, so just keep an eye on her.”

  I chuckle as Lake looks over at me and gives a wink.

  “Well, thank you,” Dale says, and I see him shake Lake’s hand. “I appreciate the job, and I’ll see you again tomorrow.”

  “Thanks for coming in,” Lake says as Dale starts back for his car. He calls a goodbye to me, and I wave to him before he climbs in and leaves.

  Lake walks toward me, gravel crunching under his boots. He walks slow and relaxed, and I realize how dead sexy this man is. That lopsided smile, deep eyes with fire in them, a body most women dream about. Muscle upon muscle. That quiet strength. And knowing he’s a soldier could damn near kill me.

  He stops in front of me, placing a foot between my legs on the bottom steps.

  “You’re really, really drop dead sexy, did you know that?” I say as I stand. I gather his tank in my hands and pull him toward me.

  “You’re really, really gorgeous, did you know that?” he says as his hands wrap around me, hanging low on my back.

  I just smile as I lean forward and press my lips to his.

  “I’m not normally down for shrugging off work, but I really like this kind of procrastination,” he says as he picks me up, my legs wrapping around his waist. He pins my back against the wall, pressing himself into my center.

  “Is it procrastination or distraction?” I growl as I bite his lower lip.

  “Whatever it is, I like it.” He grinds his hips into mine.

  Cursedly, the phone rings inside.

  “Ignore that,” I say, pulling him tighter around me. He starts to move away, and I yank him back harder. “I said ignore that!”

  “But it might be your new secretary!” he says as he pulls away from the wall, me still wrapped around him. His lips don’t leave mine as he stumbles through the house toward the office. My lips only shift to his neck when he grabs the phone.

  “James Ranch,” he says very professionally, despite my tongue, which is tracing his jawline. “Riley James is otherwise occupied at the moment, but I can help you.”

  I bite a tiny bit of his skin on his neck. I look up at him. His eyes are closed, his face turned toward the ceiling, and he seems to be having a hard time concentrating on his phone call.

  “Uh huh,” he says. I feel him twitch beneath me. “Yeah, that sounds
great. When can you come in for an interview?”

  My hands slip under his shirt, and I try pulling it off his head, but it doesn’t work well, since he’s holding the phone to his ear. “That sounds great, we’ll see you in an hour then. Uh huh. Bye.”

  He hangs the phone up and flings it into a chair. He finishes the job of removing his shirt.

  “You are a wicked, wicked woman,” he says, pressing me against the wall once again and burying his face in my neck.

  “The phone was the one who interrupted us, not the other way around,” I say as a smile curls on my face and my eyes slide closed.

  “You know, being with you like this is going to make it much, much harder to have to leave in two and a half weeks.”

  With that, the heat and passion in my blood dies off. Lake must instantly feel it, because he pulls back, and looks into my eyes.

  “You’re going to be safe, aren’t you?” I ask him. Last night I couldn’t sleep. I just kept thinking of Lake, back out in combat. He almost died once, and would have if it hadn’t been for Cal. He could easily do it again.

  He continues to study me. He brushes a lock of hair out of my eyes and tucks it behind my ear.

  “I’m going to do my best,” he says quietly.

  “Okay.”

  Three days later, I find myself lying in the hammock outside. It’s nearly dark. I went to church this morning. Lake and I had dinner tonight. And now we’re around the fire pit. Lake sits comfortable and stretched out in a lawn chair.

  “Why’d you join the Marines?”

  We haven’t spoken in a while, each of us simply enjoying the still, warm night. So my words cut through the quiet.

  His eyes meet mine and there’s hesitance there.

  They tell me he’s never actually told anyone the reason why.

  I remember Drake telling me that Lake had changed. Over time he got more closed up and darker. He isn’t the same cocky jock he was in high school.

  “It’s not a good story, and it doesn’t make me sound like a very good person,” he says simply.

 

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