by Lyrica Creed
Excited squeals and peals of laughter echoed over the water and drifted from a huge stone and glass home a few lots down. It was a hive of activity, and the lake around it was churning with swimmers and floats.
Tuning it out, she settled back into her morose mood. She and Gage hadn’t spoken yet other than the necessary dialogue of debarking the helicopter, transferring to a waiting car, and being dropped off here at his house. He’d been fielding calls and texts throughout. If she hadn’t actually heard some of the voice messages, she might have thought he was avoiding her.
Speak of the devil.
She registered the door swinging open behind her. Rascal’s paws clipped noisily as he bounded from the house, crossed the deck, and disappeared down the steps to the ground level. Gage crossed the deck and leaned a hip against the rail as she had a few minutes ago, while absorbing the view. Her view was his backside and she didn’t mind it one bit. Sweet heaven, the man filled a pair of jeans in the most mouthwatering way. What she did mind was him ignoring her presence. The seconds became minutes in which he periodically whistled for Rascal if the dog wandered too far.
Finally, he turned, facing her. She became annoyed with herself when her breath caught and her pulse pounded. The front of his jeans rivaled the back. Jerking her eyes from his fly didn’t slow her pulse much. His shades still sat atop his head, and his dark hair waved about his face. The sunlight brought out a ruddy glow in his features.
An eager gleam lit his dark gaze as it glided hopefully over her face. “Let’s take the boat out.”
Really?
“C’mon, Scar.” He dragged her name out in that wheedling way he’d had since they were kids when he wanted to cajole her into some shenanigans. “Let’s forget the shit this morning and have some fun.”
“Forget that you kidnapped me?” is what she said, but her heart was screaming in a monstrous rage the words she wouldn’t say aloud. Forget you’re rethinking things?
“I didn’t kidnap you.”
“Our pilot thought so.”
He scoffed with an annoying hiss of breath, ending in a contemptuous click of his vocal cords.
“He asked me in private if I was okay. And if I needed help to nod!”
“And did you nod?” When she remained quiet and folded her arms across her chest, he quirked one of those smiles he seemed to use of late, the ones that never quite manifested. “There! That’s what I thought. Not kidnapped.”
“Maybe I did. Maybe I’m out here waiting for the ‘po po’ to show.”
“Then we better get going before they show.” He seemed amused she’d lapsed into urban slang when speaking of the local law authority, but his next words were firm. “I’m not interested in being locked up before I have to be.” She felt her brows furrow at that, but he reached for her wrist and gave it a tug. “C’mon. Pleeease… I swear to you; the way you heard things is not the way I meant to say them. Can we start this day over?”
Leaning into him, she allowed herself to be pulled up. But her feet felt like sandbags as she followed him across the deck, down the steps, and into a carport.
A jeep occupied the single car space. He busied himself removing the soft top. She stood around, feeling inefficient. Stepping back when he crossed in front of her, she tried to fight the turn-on of the erotic sounds of zippers grating stridently down and the amplified pop of snaps. When he asked if she could unlatch a clip on her side of the windshield, she jumped to oblige. After he’d folded the disassembled canvas and frame back, tucking it away, he transferred a gas container from a storage closet to the back of the jeep.
If she had worried about any awkwardness in being alone with him after their argument, she needn’t have. The Jeep had a stereo system befitting a musician, and Gage cranked it up while backing out of the drive. Between the music and the wind, there was no occasion to speak during the next several minutes of curvy miles. Every once in a while, he looked over, testing her reaction to a song selection. It didn’t take her long to relax into the carefree atmosphere he’d created and feel as happy as Rascal looked in the back seat, tongue lolling out, nose up catching the wind.
By the time they had returned from the store with gas, beer, water, a bag of ice, a bottle of wine, barbecue sandwiches, a bag of dry dog food, and a sack full of snacks, their companionable repartee of the last few weeks had returned. They gorged on their sandwiches while stocking the cooler with ice and drinks. She carried the cooler and he carried the gas down the property declination to the pier. Rascal, of course, was part of the procession.
“You ever ski?” he asked when the boat was gassed up and floating in the water.
She shrugged off the shirt she was using as a swimsuit cover-up and couldn’t help but notice the flame of interest sparking in his gaze. He gave her a once over, below the neck to her toes and then back up to her face where his eyes locked and didn’t stray again.
“I’ve lived in Belize for the last five years.” Hanging the shirt on the crank he’d turned to launch the boat, she shot him a confident grin. “I can ski circles around you.”
“Oh? You think so?” One of his dark brows arched, and he finally curved a full, teeth-revealing grin.
“I know so. This lake is like glass compared to ocean waves.” She sassed right back and kicked off her flip-flops.
For a moment, her mind was catching air while skiing and riding Jet Skis with Derrick and recalling their easy relationship. Would a friends-with-benefits relationship be possible with Gage? Is that all he wanted? Because for the first time she could remember since she’d been young and naïve and in high school, she wanted more. She was feeling more.
They didn’t ski. The boat left churned waters in its wake as Gage steered them on a wild ride. Rascal lay low on the fiberglass belly of the craft when it was shooting across the water and popped back up to hang over the edge when it slowed. A few other boats and a sailboat dotted the lazy lake. As the afternoon grew late, they putted around the lake’s perimeter. The mix of quaint cabins and mansions fascinated her. They floated for a bit and lay back on the reclining seats, staring at the blue sky. At one point, she swore she saw an eagle glide by and interrupted Gage’s ramble to point.
“Might be,” he agreed, although by the time he saw what she was speaking of, the large bird was too far away for him to get a good look. “I’ve heard of people seeing them here.”
He flipped open the cooler and dropped his empty bottle in. She was sipping on a bottle of water. “Ready for the wine?” She shook her head, and he continued to ignore the beer and selected more water for himself and an extra bottle that he poured into a Solo cup for Rascal.
“I know he’s hot,” she mused as the dog lapped up every drop of water.
“Want to go for a swim, boy?” Gage patted the side of the boat and to her horror, half lifted, half tossed, his dog overboard. Rascal paddled around, nose and head above the surface, seemingly content. Gage dropped the anchor and from the same compartment, slid out two floats and threw them overboard. “C’mon. I know you’re hot.”
It didn’t escape her notice when he used the same phrase she’d used to reference Rascal. She wondered if she’d imagined the teasing innuendo in his tone, seeming to give it a meaning that had nothing to do with the baking sun, but he jumped overboard before she could get a read on his face.
“I could use a dip.” Instead of jumping, she swung her legs over the edge and dropped the rest of the way. The cooling shroud of the water was a welcome relief. They treaded water and engaged in a splashing war. Eventually, they shared the blue water noodle. Rascal hung over the yellow one in a similar manner. She was amazed when the canine climbed the boarding ladder with barely any help. They tossed the floats in after him and She and Gage hung, still in the water, one on either side of the ladder, discussing what they wanted for dinner. Gage sang the praises of a restaurant on the lake. Her stomach growled when he began to summarize the menu, and they speculated what they would order once they’d returned to t
he house and cleaned up.
“You wearing sunscreen?”
“Huh?” It wasn’t the change of subject she needed to adjust to, as much as the changed intimacy in his coffee colored eyes. “Yeah. Always. Why? Am I burned?”
“A little red on your shoulders.” His forefinger made a tingling brush over the skin he spoke of.
Automatically she tipped her chin down to check. She did seem a little pinker than normal.
When she lifted her head, her mouth fell onto his. Just like that. She’d never seen him coming, but reveled in the unexpected pleasure of his lips against hers. His tongue traced her top lip and circled to her bottom, and then his lips slipped and slid with hers.
Her eyelids had drifted closed, but they soon flew open when she felt the difference in this kiss from any other they’d shared. It was as tender as it was passionate, and the sentiment was mirrored in his open eyes. Instead of being clenched in the hair at the nape of her neck, his fingers forked the strands and massaged gentle circles onto her scalp.
When they parted, his hand drifted to rest on the back of her neck where his thumb continued the soothing ministration.
His words were a mere whisper of breath against her mouth. “I was scared.” His hand left her neck to swipe at his hair. “Hell, I’m still scared. I’m feeling different. Too much. It’s like I’m on overload whenever you’re around.” His eyes still hadn’t broken contact with hers, and now his lips tipped slightly. “The sex was… It was… Damn… I just… I lost my damn mind. Once I processed it and started thinking… I shouldn’t have started thinking.”
“Because you started rethinking.” Her reply was bitter and she hadn’t meant it to be. Because they hadn’t actually had sex. She had lapsed into voyeur mode, and she was insecure enough about this weakness to worry that was why he seemed to regret their almost-hookup.
In that way he always seemed tuned in to her thoughts and emotions, he denied that unspoken thought tangent. “No. Not rethinking what I feel. I’m worried about everything except what I feel.” His gaze flashed with this conviction. “Now that we’ve started this thing, I’m scared as fuck of leaving you.”
She jerked her eyes from his face. They’d barely begun, and he was thinking about the end? But he wound her hair around his wrist and brought her face back to his. Resting his forehead to hers, he gazed solemnly into her eyes.
“It’s fucking up my head to think of being away from you. And I keep thinking messed up shit. Like you can do way better than me. Like I shouldn’t even be with you—I should be wanting what’s best for you.”
Her head shook, refuting his words, and she closed her fingers over his grip on the ladder. She wanted to scream because he was being so down on himself, but he kept talking without taking a breath.
“And then I think ‘your life is about to change.’ What if you’ve come to your senses and you’ve moved on when I get out? And that it’s wrong to even want you to wait around until I’m out. This morning, the whole thing just―”
“When you get out?” The sun’s rays couldn’t absorb the chill seeping through her body. “What do you mean, ‘when you get out?’”
“I’m going to do time.”
“Noo… No, you’re not. It won’t happen―”
“The odds aren’t in my favor. And I’m a loser at gambling. Always have been.”
“For fucking talking shit on stage? You’re going to jail?”
“Hopefully my lawyers can negotiate rehab. But I’m going away for up to a year.”
Her eyes and throat ached and burned. Still she shook her head. “When?” When was this happening? Please, God, don’t let it happen…
“By the fifteenth of next month.”
Before her birthday.
The tears trapped inside their duct stung like acid but never fell. Somehow, she found herself inside the boat, and Gage was pulling up the anchor. She had no memory of climbing the ladder. When he dropped the mass of metal to its storage nook, she noticed his back was broader. He turned and his chest seemed more chiseled. He looked healthier. It had only been a little over a week, but he was making amazing headway detoxing without structured rehab. Would they still send him to rehab if he tested clean of drugs? Or would his progress be ‘rewarded’ with jail time instead?
Launching herself into his arms, she wrapped around him. Despite having that second emerged from the water, his skin was already hot enough to quell her chill. When she lifted her face, he kissed her. Another tender kiss. But she ground her mouth to his and it progressed quickly into a hard desperate mating of their mouths.
Chapter 39
“Hey, you guys!”
Gage ignored the intrusion and continued to brush his tongue to Scar’s.
“Hey, Gage!” Now that was uncommon enough for him to lift away from the sweet taste of the kiss. He didn’t vacation here enough to know many of his neighbors. And since it wasn’t a public lake, the chance of some random fan happening up was significantly lessened. “Gage and Scarla!”
Rascal set up a welcoming bark.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he murmured, a breath away from the kiss they’d abandoned. “What is it with that kid catching us lip locked?” Separated from her, his mind cleared enough to recognize Seth’s voice. Holding her in the proprietary curve of his arm, he took in the two teens dropping the jib on a Hobie Cat. The boat stalled just enough that it didn’t sail past. “Rascal! Shut it! Seth. A little far from home.” He wracked his brain, attempting to make sense of the boy’s appearance.
“We got here yesterday. Jeter’s dad has a place here. Real close to your house.” Seth dipped his hands into the water and scrubbed them on his face and neck.
Jeter looked as heated as Seth did and was fiddling with his life jacket. “You think you could give us a tow back?”
“We’ve been zigzagging across the lake but can’t seem to land where we need to,” Seth explained. “My cell’s dead. And he never brings his.”
“Hard to Face Time Amy when my phone’s at the bottom of the lake.” Jeter shot a wry smile. When his friend scowled at him, he further defended himself. “Hey. She broke up with me that time for not calling all week. When the whole time, my phone was swimming with the fish.”
“Grow a pair already, dude,” Seth retorted. It was partly amusing to see him act a junior of his father in almost every way. But it was equally disconcerting to see him at his young age, already devaluing the opposite sex.
“I keep thinking my Dad will send someone for us.” Jeter rolled his eyes. “But I guess they’re too busy partying at the neighbor’s house to notice we’ve been lost at sea for half the day.”
“Well, we can’t have you lost on the giant lake of arrowhead. You might never be found,” Gage joked and tossed them a rope. “Tie on.” He made sure their end was secured to an eyelet on the back of the boat and gave further instructions to the boys. When everything was secure, he turned before cranking the motor. “Want to board?”
“Can we? Thanks, man!”
Instead of pulling in close enough to transfer from one boat to the other, they rolled into the water and swam. He suspected it was an excuse to cool off.
“Where to?”
A half hour later after towing the catamaran in at a sluggishly slow pace, Gage drifted toward a pier Jeter pointed out. Idly, his gaze went from the dock to the house beyond it, and he froze.
Jeter was already throwing off his life jacket, and it landed with a quiet plunk on the weathered wood. Seth had his arm out, hands on the pier keeping the boat from brushing against it.
Gage turned, checking on the Hobie and then curiously eyed Jeter. “This is your dad’s place?”
“Yeah. He might be selling it though. I’m hoping he’ll get a place on Big Bear or somewhere where we can have wave runners.”
“Bradley Walker is your father?”
Scarlette was tugging in the Hobie Cat, and her back straightened. Pivoting around, she swung her attention from him to J
eter.
“You know him?” Jeter wondered.
“Who doesn’t?” Gage joked and moved to the rear of the boat to take over pulling the rope in. “One of you jump in and untie that.”
Seth volunteered, and Jeter knelt holding the boat in place.
“You said he’s down there at that party?” Gage nodded to the garish monster of a house and the buzz of activity around it.
Jeter confirmed Gage’s query, but lost interest in the conversation and expressed his thanks, clearly eager to get into the house. Seth hung back. “Think we can take Rascal?”
“Oh, I don’t know…”
“It’s fine. My dad won’t care.” Jeter paused his stride midway to the house that sat close to the waterline. “He misses our dog. He was a big dog too. It lives with Mom now.”
“I don’t know…”
“Please. We can bring him over later. He has his tracker on his collar.” Still indecisive, Gage reached down to turn the tracker on and the boys fisted the air. “Yaaas!”
Less than a half hour later, he tucked Scar’s hand in his as they made the trek down the road. They had entertained the idea of boating over, directly after dropping Seth and Jeter off. They had even talked of waiting until the next morning. But she was worried, given their track record so far with the search for Ivy that the next morning Bradley Walker might be gone. At the same time, she didn’t want to wander into a party of strangers—celebrity strangers—wearing only her swimsuit, cover-up, and flip-flops.
In the time it had taken him to pull on clean clothing and buzz a shaver over face and neck, she had jumped in and out of the shower and dressed. He wasn’t sure she had taken even three minutes with the hairdryer before slicking her semi damp hair into a tight knot atop her head. She’d smeared lip-gloss on and threaded several bracelets on her wrist.
Her wrist jangled when she slowed at the foot of the drive, and her arm stretched with him before he noticed the gentle resistance.