by Dylann Crush
* * *
Open mouth, insert foot. Way to go, dumbass. He’d not only strangle Dwight the next time he saw him, he’d also call in his tab and make him settle up before anyone else served him at the bar. No wonder Charlie seemed so guarded.
As much as she intrigued him and drove him to more cold showers than he’d taken since junior high, he refused to be the asshole who’d break her heart again. In the short time he’d known her and despite their near-hookup in the parking lot, one thing had become clear—Charlie didn’t seem like the kind of woman who did things casually.
He’d have to rein it in and keep things on a purely professional level. Didn’t matter that he’d tried and failed at that a few days before. Now that he knew more about her, he’d be more careful. Satisfied with himself for taking the high road, he relaxed into his tube. The peaceful float down the river provided a much different experience than battling the rapids in Colorado or fighting to stay upright in a kayak.
His adventures were usually fueled by adrenaline, the crazier the better. His dad always told him one of these days he’d end up dead or seriously injured. But so far, Beck had gone skydiving, bungee jumping, parasailing, BASE jumping, and cliff diving with only a broken leg to show for it. Living life in a high-rise surrounded by concrete got to him after a while, and he had to get out of the city and get his blood pumping. Maybe he had a little more of his grandfather’s genes than he’d thought.
He mused on that for a bit until the current picked up.
Charlie nudged him with her foot. “Rapids up ahead. Hold on to your tube, and make sure we don’t lose the cooler. Presley would kill you.”
“Got it.” Beck sat up straighter in his tube and watched the group in front of them bounce over the long stretch of rapids. One guy bumped into a big rock sticking out of the water and tumbled out of his tube. Amateur. He lifted his butt up to avoid hitting it on any of the rocks under the surface and reached over to grab Charlie’s tube.
It spun out of his grasp, and she went down the rapids first. She nudged a rock and changed direction like a bumper car in a crowded arcade, getting caught up in the group ahead of them. Beck’s tube followed. But with the cluster of tubes blocking the route in front of him, his tube spiraled toward the big rock he’d seen earlier. He tried to paddle away from it with one hand but got nowhere. A surge of water behind him sent his tube crashing into the rock. The cooler went sideways, and he scrambled to set it upright before Presley’s entire cache of beer fell into the river. Back in control, he pushed off the rock with his foot. Pain sliced through the ball of his foot.
“Oh crap.” A sharp part of the rock had left a cut along the bottom of his foot.
“You okay?” Charlie had grabbed on to a clump of long grass sticking up from an outcropping of rocks and waited for him along the riverbank.
“Cut my foot. It’s not bad—it’ll be fine.”
“That’s why they recommend water shoes.” She lifted her legs and wiggled her feet, which were encased in ugly hot-pink rubber.
“Yeah, I should have thought to bring my stash of water footwear when I packed my bags. I usually strut along Fifth Avenue in them.” She stuck her tongue out at him. “Or wear them jogging in Central Park. I love the squishy feel as my feet hit the pavement.”
“Okay, Manhattan. I get it. You were ill prepared for our little adventure today. We should have loaned you a pair of swim trunks and some Velcro sandals. Shame on me.”
“That’s right, it’s all your fault.”
“So is it my fault you’re losing your tube, too?” She nodded toward his inner tube, which appeared to be losing some of its buoyancy.
He’d been more concerned about his bloody foot and hadn’t noticed his butt had sunk a little deeper into the water. “Huh. What do we do about that?”
“Well, I guess you could climb up the bank and try to catch a ride back to the office.”
Beck glanced up the steep riverbank. “Not sure I want to do that with a fresh cut on the bottom of my foot. Is there an option number two?”
She lifted her hips and slid over to one side of her tube. “We share.” Her cheeks resembled the hot pink of her water shoes.
Share. With Charlie. In a bikini. The vow he’d made to take the high road and keep their interactions purely professional plopped into the water and silently drowned as he climbed into the tube beside her.
“You sure you don’t mind?”
“I don’t think you’d fit in with the cooler.”
Beck glanced toward the miniature tube, more suited to a toddler than a guy his size.
“All right then. Here goes nothing.” There wasn’t enough space for both of them to sit side by side. He settled into the middle, and she rolled onto his lap, putting them hip to hip and skin to skin. The water droplets on her chest were close enough he could have licked them off if he’d wanted to. And God, he wanted to.
“I don’t have anywhere to put my arm.” She moved her arm behind him, then back in front again like she was trying to get comfortable.
“Here.” He slid his arm around her shoulders, giving her a place to lean.
“Thanks.”
Her body was rigid next to him. With almost every part of them touching from head to toe, a certain part of him began to go rigid as well.
“Should we tackle the rest of these rapids?” Beck asked. His tube had lost air halfway down the bubbly section of river. With any luck, they’d make it the rest of the way without another screwup.
“Let’s do it.” Charlie seemed to look for a place to grab on. He almost laughed at the awkward look on her face.
“Just hang on to me, okay?”
She slung an arm over his torso and held tight as they kicked back into the flow and the tube drifted over another section of rapids. They lifted their hips in unison as they bumped, spun, and bounced over the rocks underneath them. Charlie’s body hummed along his as she shifted, trying to anticipate which way the river would send them.
Finally in calmer water, her half-naked body nestled into his side, he tried to think of something to say to ease the tension between them. “How about another beer?”
“Yeah, that would be great.” She seemed as eager as he was to have something else to focus her attention on.
Together, they wrestled the cooler close enough to grab another can for each of them.
“Cheers.” Beck tapped his can against hers.
“What are we toasting?”
“Um, how about to surviving the white-water rapids of the great Guadalupe?”
Her lips screwed into a doubtful smirk. “White-water? Don’t you think you’re stretching it a bit?”
“Hey, I never popped a raft in Colorado. So far the difficulty level here seems to be on par.”
“I bet Colorado is amazing.”
“You’ve never been?”
“No.”
“So where have you been? Where’s your favorite place to go?” Her sitting half on top of him made for an awkward angle for conversation. But not nearly as awkward as having her ass rub against his crotch. Professional, keep it professional.
Charlie shifted against him and lifted her face toward his. “I haven’t been anywhere. At least not anywhere outside Texas.”
Her comment distracted him from trying to squelch his growing desire. “You’re kidding. You’ve never left Texas?”
She shook her head. “Nope. I used to want to travel a lot, but not so much anymore.”
“Why not? You afraid to fly?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never been on a plane. Unless you count the tiny two-seater my dad uses to check on his cattle from time to time.”
“Well, we’re going to have to get you out of Texas sometime. Maybe come visit me in New York. You’d love it there.” As he said the words, he wondered if they could possibly be true. What would be
so special about New York for a gal who wrestled pigs and broke up bar fights between cranky cowboys? “The Statue of Liberty…the Empire State Building…Times Square…it’s like nowhere else on earth.”
Charlie nodded, her cheek brushing against his chest. His skin prickled under her touch, every part of him aware of the way she molded herself against him. “Yeah, maybe someday.”
“Is it your family? You have to stay close to manage the ranch?”
“No. My folks love to travel. They took a cruise in Alaska last year and have plans to do a tour of Ireland and Scotland next spring.” She went quiet, and he figured he’d be better off not pressing the subject.
But then again, he was a slow learner. “So what’s the deal then?”
“It’s just me, okay?” Her cheeks flushed, and she pushed off his chest to raise herself up as much as she could. “When Jackson died, I was on spring break down in South Padre. I should have been at home.”
“Charlie, you couldn’t have done anything to stop that. Whether you were on a beach in Texas or a mountaintop in Brazil, there’s nothing you could have done.” Crap, what had he said? Couldn’t leave well enough alone, huh? Had to go and push her. A tear slid down the side of her nose from under her sunglasses. He shouldn’t have come today. Should have done what he’d planned and headed to Sully’s place to start making it livable.
“He tried to call me.” The words came out so softly he almost missed the fact that she’d spoken at all.
“What?”
“When he knew he wasn’t going to make it. He tried to call me.”
What was he supposed to say to that? He opened his mouth to speak, hoping somehow the right words would tumble out.
But Charlie kept going. “His Humvee hit an IED. The truck blew up. They got him back to base, but he’d lost too much blood. I didn’t have my phone with me. Left it behind at the hotel while we sat on the beach. I was too worried about having fun with my friends.” The tears free-fell down her cheeks. He wanted to say something, ease her pain, tell her it wasn’t her fault. “He left me a message. I still have it. After all these years, I still listen to it every once in a while.” She wiped at her cheeks, and a sharp bark of laughter rose from her chest. “Go on, tell me how ridiculous that is. How I need to stop living in the past, start looking toward the future.”
He reached up and slid her sunglasses from her face. She looked up at him with watery eyes, hurt, wounded, raw.
“I’m not going to tell you that, Charlie.”
She blinked, and a crease appeared between her brows. “Why not? Everyone else does.”
“Well, then screw everyone else. When they’ve lived through losing someone close to them like that, then they can give advice on how you should handle yourself and how long you can be sad.” It pissed him off to think that people would rush her through such a devastating part of her past. He didn’t have personal experience with grief, but he had watched a buddy of his lose both his parents to a helicopter crash during college. As far as he was concerned, no one had a right to tell someone else how to feel.
She studied him for a long moment, then sniffled and ran her hand over her cheek again. “I never told anyone that before. About the message.”
“I’m honored you trusted me enough to share. You okay?” He ran a hand over her shoulder, brushing back a stray chunk of hair that had escaped her elastic.
“Yeah.” Her chest rose and fell as she inhaled and exhaled a long breath. “So anyway, that’s why I don’t want to move to Austin or San Antonio or Dallas. And that’s why I’ve never traveled much from home.”
“But he’s gone now.”
“I can’t stand to be very far from the people I love. In case they need me. I let Jackson down, and I don’t want that to ever happen again. I don’t know, you probably think I’m crazy.”
“I don’t think you’re crazy.”
“You don’t?”
“Nah. I think you’re pretty incredible.” As he said the words, he realized how much he meant them. He’d never met someone who wore her heart on her sleeve like she did. It was refreshing to not have to guess at what she might or might not be thinking or feeling. Not like everyone else in his life. With his heart unexpectedly full, he pulled her even closer to him and kissed the top of her head.
She pushed against his chest. For a moment he assumed she was rejecting the gesture. But then she lifted her head to kiss his cheek. “Thanks, Beck.”
He wanted to move his head, to meet her lips with his. Sitting this close to her, their skin warmed by the heat of the afternoon sun, the river flowing underneath them, he wanted to cement this moment in time. Before he had a chance to react with anything more than a shake of his head, droplets of water doused them both.
“There y’all are. Didn’t take you long to put the moves on my little sister now, did it?” Presley paddled closer, towing Shana’s tube behind him. “Been looking for y’all for an hour now. I’m dying of thirst. Toss me a beer?”
Just like that, the mood lifted. Shana gave up her tube and climbed in with Presley so Beck could have his own again. He missed the way Charlie felt nestled against him, but the distance kept him from doing things he had no business doing. As the day wore on and the sun moved from straight overhead to hover at the edge of the horizon, Beck decided he was glad he had come. Even though by the time they made it to the end of the float trip, he was pruned, sunburned, and hungry. He and Charlie had reached a new level in their relationship. More like friends. Even if he would be taking nothing but cold showers during his stay, it would be nice to have a real friend in Holiday.
Chapter Fifteen
“Thanks for the ride. Y’all have a good night.” Charlie stood on the front porch of the cottage she lived in on the edge of the family ranch. Presley and Shana had been so anxious to get rid of her and Beck that they dropped them off at Charlie’s place so she could drive him back to the B and B instead of going into town. The Jeep circled around the dusty patch of gravel, then retreated down the drive.
“Thanks for inviting me to go with you today. I had a good time.” Beck had his pack slung over one shoulder, and his button-down shirt hung open in front. She’d had her hands all over him that afternoon, and still she wanted more. It was kind of funny how she thought talking about Jackson with him would make her more upset when it actually made her feel like a little bit of weight had been pried off her chest. She’d had a good time too and wasn’t quite ready to see the day come to an end.
“You in a rush to get back, or do you want to stay for a quick bite?” She pushed her sunglasses on top of her head and studied his profile.
“Depends. What are you making?”
“Depends? Really? You have a better offer down at the VFW or something?”
A teasing smirk slid across his face. “Maybe.”
“Fish fry was on Friday. That’s the only thing they make there that I’d be up for eating. I was thinking of throwing a steak on the grill. Maybe a salad and some bread.”
Beck made circles on his chiseled abs with his palm. “You had me at steak.”
“Come on in then.” She walked across the porch and opened the front door.
“Don’t people around here ever lock anything?”
The look of concern on his face made her laugh out loud. “Somebody would have to find my place before they could break in. I don’t think I’ve ever slept behind a locked door in my life.”
Beck shook his head. “I don’t get it.”
“You don’t have to get it, Manhattan. Hey, will you check the fridge for me? There should be a rib eye on the top shelf. I wasn’t expecting company, but I think it’ll be big enough to share.”
He made it to the kitchen and stuck his head inside the refrigerator.
“I’m gonna jump in the shower right quick and rinse the river water off. If you want to set the steak on a plate on
the counter, that’d be great.”
She pointed to the cabinet holding her dishes, then ducked into the bathroom. This was a bad idea. Right? It had to be. Her and Beck, alone at her place after they’d been literally stuck side by side all day. She’d almost died when his tube deflated. Being that close to him for so long, sharing her heart about Jackson, having body parts touch that shouldn’t necessarily be touching…it had all caught up to her. A shower would be just the thing. She’d freshen up, cool down, and make the man dinner. Where was the harm in that?
Fifteen minutes later, showered, shampooed, and safely ensconced in her most unsexy yoga pants and three-quarter-sleeve Cowboys T-shirt, Charlie exited the bathroom. She’d wrapped her damp hair into a knot on top of her head and hadn’t bothered with makeup. Beck stood in the family room, studying the wall filled with floor-to-ceiling pictures. Framed photographs of her ancestors, her and her brothers as kids, her folks, and dozens of friends and family members crowded the wall.
“Are you related to all of these people?” Beck asked.
“Most of them. The ones I’m not related to by blood I’m pretty much still stuck with for life anyway.”
He let out a huff of breath. “I can’t imagine.”
“You don’t have any brothers or sisters, do you?” She’d never heard Sully talk about any other grandkids, but he hadn’t exactly kept in touch, so he might not know if Beck had siblings.
“Steps.” Huh? He must have seen the blank look on her face, so he clarified. “Technically I have a stepsister from my second stepmom and a half-brother on my mom’s side. But no one I keep in touch with.”