Why not take a refreshing dip in the river?
* * *
Felicity changed into a swimsuit, added shorts and a T-shirt over it and slipped into flip-flops. Before she could change her mind, she set off on a path down through the trees toward the river. Gabe’s car, she’d noticed, wasn’t in the driveway. Either he hadn’t arrived yet or he’d parked farther down the road and taken a shortcut to the swimming hole. That meant she could either walk back on her own or ride back with him in her wet swimsuit.
She followed the path through trees, grass and ferns. She almost talked herself into turning back twice before she reached the quiet, deep spot where she, Mark, Gabe and other kids had leaped into the river.
Mostly she and Gabe.
She spotted him by an oak tree that clung to the steep riverbank, and for a moment, he might have been the teenager she remembered, playful, dreaming of all he’d do in life, making plans so he wouldn’t end up “stuck” in Knights Bridge. He was more muscular now, all man with no hint of boy as he tied the fresh, new rope to a branch of the oak that reached out above the water.
He tugged on the rope. “It should hold.” He grinned at her. “Want to go first?”
“No way.”
“Why not? What could go wrong?”
“The rope could come loose, and I could end up dropping onto the rocks instead of into the water.”
He peered down the bank and shook his head. “There aren’t any rocks you need to worry about. You might hit shallow water, but it’s unlikely you’d get hurt. You’d compensate and fling yourself out to deeper water.”
She shook her head. “You first.”
“We could take the rope down to the edge of the river, but it wouldn’t be as much fun as swinging from up here.” He frowned at her. “You’re swimming in your shorts?”
“I have a suit on underneath.”
“Ah.” He hooked the rope onto a chunk of one of the old rungs they’d nailed into the tree years ago. “I didn’t pack swimming trunks. Shorts will have to do.”
Felicity made no comment. He pulled off his shirt and tossed it into the grass at the base of the tree trunk. She averted her eyes from his bare chest, the taut, developed muscles a reminder they weren’t kids anymore. They could relive the past with a quick dip in the river, but they hadn’t gone back in time.
He kicked off his sandals and grabbed the rope. He’d tied a knot at the lower end to provide footing. He gave the rope a tug, seemed unsurprised when it held and hopped up, swinging out over the steep bank and silvery water. He shouted woo-hoo and plunged into the deep pool.
He shot up instantly, swearing. “Holy hell, the water’s colder than I remember.”
Felicity laughed, catching the rope as it swung back toward her. “You’re used to heated pools.”
“Damn right.” He gave his head a toss, flicking river water off his hair, and swam to a boulder a few yards below her. He hopped up onto it and sat, stretching out his legs on the sun-warmed rock. “Feels good on a hot day, though.” He pointed up at her. “Your turn.”
She peeled off her shorts and T-shirt and tossed them onto the ground next to his shirt. She adjusted her swimsuit, hoping it wouldn’t hike up or tug loose and expose more than she wanted to as she was swinging on the rope—something she never used to consider.
She tugged on the rope, making sure it was still secure after Gabe had used it. It held firm.
“Use your muscle memory,” he said from below her on his boulder. “You’ve done this before.”
Many times, she thought. She shut her eyes, concentrating on the still, hot air, the faint coolness rising up from the water below her, the sounds of the river coursing downstream, the chattering of a red squirrel in the trees. She could feel the roughness and newness of the rope. She remembered hanging on too long as a teenager and getting rope burn. Gabe hadn’t sympathized. “Let go sooner next time. Lesson learned, Felicity.”
She wouldn’t screw up or chicken out now, with him watching her.
She opened her eyes, pulled herself up onto the rope, one foot on the knot as she swung out over the water and dropped before she naturally swung back, pendulum-like, to the bank. She tucked up her knees and cannonballed into the river, plunging underwater. She’d had fair warning it was cold, and it was. At the same time it felt good, and she resisted shooting to the surface. She swam a few yards underwater, toward Gabe’s rock, and then came up, taking in the warm, humid air.
Gabe swam next to her. The water probably wasn’t over their heads here, but she didn’t want to touch the bottom and disturb mud and debris and risk stubbing a toe on a rock. “The water feels fine now,” he said. “Either that or I have hypothermia and can’t tell the difference.”
“Too soon for hypothermia.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re a forever New Englander.”
She smiled. “Don’t you forget it.”
They swam to the boulder and climbed onto it together, sitting next to each other, dripping as they watched the river. Felicity pointed to mallards clustered by rocks on the opposite shore. “I wonder if they’re related to the ducks from last time I was out here,” he said.
“When was that?”
“Summer after my sophomore year at UMass.”
“I remember.”
“We went to a Red Sox game that summer. We sat in the bleachers.”
“That was the next summer.”
He leaned back on his elbows and stuck his feet in the water. “Was it?”
She nodded. “We drove together. I worked at my dad’s office that summer.”
“Oh, right. I picked you up after work. You were wearing eyeshades like Bob Cratchit.”
“I was not,” she said, grinning at him. “We drove straight to Fenway. You drove, actually. I don’t know why you didn’t get a speeding ticket. Pure luck.”
“I didn’t go that fast.”
“You were mad at Mark and we were running late.”
“What was I mad at Mark about?”
“Something to do with your father.”
He splashed water with one foot. “Right. Take your pick. Mark steered clear of his charming dysfunctions sooner than I did.”
“You both have done well. Your mom and dad did something right.”
“They did a lot right,” Gabe said. “I just didn’t see it when I was racing to Boston to see the Red Sox beat the Yankees.”
“They lost to the Yankees by three runs.”
He kicked water on her. “Wet blanket.”
“You’re the one who told me to look life square in the eye.”
“Your career choices and your debt,” he said. “Not my rose-colored glasses memory of a Red Sox game.”
“You remember they lost,” she said, not making it a question.
“Tied going into the eighth and the Yankees stole second base with two outs and ended up getting the lead. Red Sox got two men on base in the bottom of the ninth but didn’t score.” He sat up straight. “We should take another dip before we get too warm.”
“Good idea. I don’t want to have to get used to the water all over again.”
“It’s not as cold as the brook,” he said.
“That’s not saying much.”
He stood on the flat boulder, backed up as far as he could and cannonballed into the water. He swam out of the way and flipped onto his back. “You’re next.”
Felicity stood up, the rock slippery where she and Gabe had dripped. Since he’d gone ahead of her, it was wet where he’d stood to get his running start into the water. A breeze floated across the river as if from nowhere, sprouting goose bumps on her arms and legs. She was grateful she wasn’t wearing a revealing swimsuit.
“I’ll count to three,” he said.
“Make it five.”
“Whatever happened to reckles
s, fear-nothing Felicity MacGregor?”
She glared at him. “All right. Make it three.”
“I’ll split the difference and make it four.”
“Nobody does anything to the count of four.”
He groaned and started counting. On three, she leaped into the river in a sloppy cannonball. The water felt good now, just cold enough on the hot day. She popped up, and Gabe was there. He caught her around the waist. “I’m standing on a rock.”
She knew the rock at the river bottom, allowing him to stand up in water that otherwise would have been over his head.
“You know what to do,” he said with a grin.
Felicity did, indeed. She threw her arms over his shoulders. “Okay. Go ahead. Fling me.”
He hoisted her up, and she put her feet flat on his thighs. Then he tossed her into the water back first, as they’d done countless times as teenagers. She went under, swam into deeper water, away from the riverbank but not so far she’d get swept into the current. She flipped onto her back and looked up at the sky, pretending she was fifteen again, with no worries beyond her summer reading list and saving enough money from her part-time job.
She swam back to him. “I wish I could flip you but you’re too big these days.”
“All grown up,” he said with a grin.
Yes. Definitely. She cleared her throat. “I should get back. I have a few things to do before dinner.”
“One more jump from the rope?”
“I’ve got all summer.”
“Yes,” he said. “You do.”
“All right. I’ll stay while you jump once more. Someone needs to be here in case you split your head open.”
“You’re all heart, Felicity.”
She climbed out of the water onto the bank and, grabbing a skinny poplar sapling by the trunk, hoisted herself up to the steep path. She had to crab-walk midway, holding on to embedded rocks and tree roots. She finally launched herself to the oak tree where they left their clothes.
Gabe was right behind her. She hadn’t realized it. He hopped up and grinned at her. “You still have a nice butt.”
“Gabe.”
“What?”
“Never mind.”
He leaned out and grabbed the rope. Ideally, he’d have stayed on the bank on her turn and caught the rope as it swung back, but he’d been in the water. As kids, they’d tied the rope farther out on the branch, allowing for a landing in deeper water, but one of them would have had to crawl out along the branch to reach the rope. This worked fine.
“I’ll catch the rope when it swings back,” she said.
“Why don’t we go together?”
“What? It won’t hold—”
“It’ll hold just fine.”
And he hooked an arm around her middle, lifted her and leaped for the rope, using the momentum to swing them out over the river. He let go of the rope, and down they went in a tangle of limbs. She clung to him as they hit the water, went under, disentangled and surfaced.
She spit out water and brushed wet hair out of her eyes with one hand. He treaded water next to her, grinning. “That was fun,” he said.
“It was insane.”
“You used to like insane.”
“Within reason. This wasn’t within reason. We both could have split our heads open.”
“But we didn’t.”
She sighed. “No, we didn’t.” She treaded water next to him. “Now I have to climb up the bank again. I should make you carry me.”
“Now that would be dangerous.”
“Are you suggesting I’m too heavy?”
“No. Not suggesting anything of the sort.”
She saw it in his eyes then. Lust. Plain and simple. She recognized that look for what it was and flipped on her stomach and swam away from him, toward the riverbank. She lifted herself onto a small boulder next to the path. “You first, Mr. Flanagan.”
He swam toward her, his strokes strong and smooth—which only added to her sense of physical awareness. “Your turn to watch my butt?”
“I didn’t say that.”
He grinned. “I did.”
“I was thinking I don’t need you watching my butt.”
“Since when are you self-conscious?”
“Gabe, we’re flirting with danger here. You’re bored.”
He flicked a drop of water off her chin. “What if I kissed you right now?”
“Where would that get you?”
“Gee, I wonder.” He ran his hands through his hair, squeezing out some of the water. “I’ll go first. Enjoy the view.”
He wasn’t the least bit self-conscious, she realized. He took the path quickly, using momentum to carry him up the steep bank. He only needed to grab one tree root. When he got to the top, he reached down, took her hand and all but hoisted her up next to him. “Should I have gone slower?” he asked. “Given you more time?”
“I had plenty of time.”
“And?”
“I think you should kiss me and get it out of your system. Then we can go back to my place and check for ticks. Nothing to do with your kiss, of course. Just summer.”
“The thought of ticks could ruin the moment, but that was your point.” He smiled. “And the operative word is could.”
Felicity found herself leaning against the oak, feeling grass, dirt and small rocks under her bare feet, aware of the outline of her body—breasts, hips—under her wet swimsuit. It might not be a sleek bikini but she wasn’t hidden under jeans and a sweatshirt, either. “Okay,” she said. “Go for it. Kiss me.”
“Is that supposed to deter me?”
“Does it?”
“No.” He cupped the back of her neck with one hand and lowered his mouth to hers. “Not even close,” he said, touching his lips to hers. She thought he would back off immediately, but he didn’t. He let it be a real kiss, as if he’d been thinking about it for a while. Then he stood straight and sighed. “That was good. You’re a little out of practice. You should let guys kiss you more often.”
“If I could throw you in the river, I would.”
“Should I expect a sneak attack?”
“It wouldn’t be a sneak attack if you expected it, would it? No. You should expect never to kiss me again.”
“But you liked it?”
“Consider us even for three years ago. A bed, brownies, a kiss. We’re good.” She brushed off something small and brown crawling on his shoulder. “That, my dear Gabe, was a tick. Let’s go.”
“It was a spider but we’ll go.”
“My brother once got a tick on an unfortunate part of his anatomy—”
“Let’s go, Felicity.”
“Are you going back to my place?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Great.” She grinned at him. “I have a hand mirror for de-ticking.”
“Trust me, sweetheart, if I find a tick on my privates, you’ll be the last to know.”
“Not me. I find one, I’m screaming. You don’t have to rescue me, but you’ll know.”
He adjusted her swimsuit strap, pulling it back onto her shoulder. “This was fun,” he said. “It was like being kids again. Thanks for joining me.”
“A trip down memory lane.”
Again that look in his eyes. “Yeah. Something like that.”
* * *
They came to their senses by the time they returned to her house, Felicity by way of the path, Gabe in his car, giving them a few minutes to cool down. She slipped her shorts and T-shirt on over her swimsuit. He put his shirt back on. That helped with her distractibility. Once inside, they retreated to their rooms to change into dry clothes.
Their teenage souls had crept into the present and dragged them back to the past.
Without any warning, Felicity felt the touch of Gabe’s lips on h
ers as if he was kissing her now. She bit down on her lower lip, hoping to dispel the feeling. It didn’t work.
She’d wanted more to their kiss.
“To be expected,” she whispered to herself.
Seriously, she thought. She’d put all her resources into her work and her move to Knights Bridge—buying this place, moving in, getting settled. She’d neglected any semblance of a romantic life.
“Sex,” she said under her breath. “You haven’t had sex in...forever.”
Gabe had been her first lover. Her best friend. All that history was bound to bubble up now that he was camped out across the hall. That he was comfortable with himself—comfortable in his own skin—only made her more aware of how much he’d once meant to her.
She picked up her swimsuit and laid it across the edge of the tub to dry. Just as well it was cold and damp. She’d let it snap her out of her haze of arousal or whatever it was. She wanted to slip into boxer shorts and a T-shirt and crawl onto the sofa and read a book she’d picked up on color schemes. She didn’t know if it’d help her in her work, but it couldn’t hurt—and it was perfect for reading with Gabriel Flanagan in the house. Interesting but not taxing, and easily reread if her mind wandered.
And it would. No point reasoning with herself, overthinking, rationalizing or otherwise driving herself nuts. Let it be. Two adults with a past jumping into a river on a hot day could get in over their heads in more ways than one, but they’d caught themselves before they’d ended up in the grass.
“Imagine the ticks,” she said with a laugh, sitting at her desk with her laptop.
“We’re invited to dinner at Mark and Jess’s place,” Gabe said, matter-of-fact, as he walked into the room.
“We?”
“Uh-huh. Mark says Jess is up to it. Check for those ticks and be ready at six.”
Ten
Gabe had only seen photos of Mark and Jess’s house off South Main Street, a few doors down from Maggie and Brandon Sloan’s “gingerbread house,” another of Knights Bridge’s older homes. Gabe would have been at a loss with all the fixing up. He’d worked for Sloan & Sons through high school and college, and even for a while after he’d dropped out, but he’d never been taken with construction. It was a job to Brandon, but Mark lived and breathed this stuff. He gave Gabe the grand tour, including the attic and cellar.
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