Skinny Dipping Season

by Cynthia Tennent

“Well . . .” I followed the architecture of muscles on his shoulders with my eyes, remembering the way they felt under my fingertips. “You kind of showed your true nature tonight, Sheriff. I mean . . . against your truck . . . on the road. You were a maniac.”

  “No, darlin,’ that was all you.” He put an arm around my shoulder and kissed me. When we came up for air, he said, “So . . . you were the last one in the water. What’s your secret?”

  “I never agreed to that when you jumped in. I feel like I’ve been tricked.” He kissed my temple and shifted me until I was cocooned in both his arms.

  It was time to tell someone. J. D. was putting a lot of faith in me and he deserved the whole story. I leaned back and put my head on his shoulder.

  “I am innocent, but no one knows it.”

  I was a high school English teacher who had never entered a classroom. Somewhere between graduation and my first job, my father had introduced me to a friend of his who had started a foundation. They trained and recruited college students to work with underprivileged youth and help them overcome reading difficulties. I was passionate about literacy and it seemed so exciting to make a difference. But as a young executive director, I found myself exhausted by all the meetings and the fund-raising.

  Except for weekly dinners with my family, and my weekend “dates” with Colin, I had no social life. I was dedicated to work and it wasn’t unusual to put in fifteen-hour days. Even with that, my OCD was under control. My family was happy that I had settled into something respectable.

  One rainy night in March I left a meeting in Seattle. It had been a long weekend and I hadn’t slept well. Mom and Dad were gone and Elliot called to say that Alexa was in charge. He said she was nagging him endlessly. It had been a constant complaint with Elliot, who was going through a rough spell. I was worried about him.

  I jumped at the chance to return a day early and buffer the situation back home. My red-eye flight was delayed and I did something unusual: I took half a sleeping pill and a glass of wine just to catch up on my sleep during the five-hour flight. I was fuzzy when I woke up, but I had taken a taxi to the airport, so at least I didn’t have to drive myself to my parents’ house.

  When I arrived I let myself in and found Elliot in the basement with friends. After making sure he was all right, I made my way to my bedroom that I was temporarily sharing with Alexa while hers was being painted. I opened the door and there they were: My sister and Colin in the middle of my bed. I was so shocked that I just stood there, wondering if the sleeping pills had caused me to hallucinate. They were naked and from the look of things Alexa had no problem arousing Colin. When she saw me, Alexa screamed. I wasn’t supposed to be home yet. Why didn’t I call? As if it was my fault for catching them together.

  I grabbed the keys to my father’s Lincoln and ran out of the house. In my shock, I didn’t see the cop car when I drove through a changing yellow light near my apartment. When I was stopped, they asked me to step out of the car. I watched numbly as an officer directed a flashlight beam through the windows of the Lincoln. When he paused and asked if he could search the car, it never occurred to me to say no. They found several ounces of marijuana and the butt of a joint on the floor of the backseat. Later, when they asked if they could Breathalyze and drug-test me, I refused. I had no idea if the wine and the sleeping pill would incriminate me further.

  The rest was what J. D. already knew from the newspaper article. It was a first offense, so it was a misdemeanor with a short probation. Of course, I was asked to resign.

  “You were afraid it was your little brother’s pot, weren’t you?”

  I glanced toward him, startled that he had figured it out. “Is it that obvious?”

  “It doesn’t take much imagination. That, plus the fact that you seem to have a soft spot for wayward teenagers.”

  I tilted my head to see him. “Cherry.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Elliot is so young. He’s just trying to break away from all the rules and superficial things my parents put him through. He is a good kid. He used to get straight As and college is right around the corner for him,” I explained.

  “Is it worth his future to scrap yours?”

  He had me there. But I was a mess already. I had completely misjudged my relationship with Colin. I had no social life. There wasn’t much I was doing right. Well, except the foundation. I really felt like I was making a difference.

  And then there was the OCD problem.

  “You know I’m a freak, don’t you?” I blurted. “I clean and clean and I can’t stop sometimes. Food additives and the risk of contamination used to make me nuts. Even after years of therapy, I still lose it.”

  “We all lose it sometimes,” he said with a gentleness that made my chest hurt.

  “Yeah, but we don’t all need therapy.”

  He brushed my hair out of my face and kissed my forehead. “Maybe we do, actually . . .”

  “Not like me.”

  He reached for my chin. “I found the article after the dinner at Nestor’s. But it just didn’t make sense to me. You were so funny that first night, dancing with a cheap bottle of wine. And then you were as sick as a college freshman. You just didn’t look like a hardened drug user.”

  I was slightly insulted that he thought I was funny. “But you couldn’t be sure, could you?”

  He traced a finger over my jaw. With the night sky illuminating his face, he looked like he belonged to the moon. If he had lifted his head and howled I wouldn’t have been surprised. But a deep rumble of laughter came from his throat instead.

  “I just told you my secret, J.D. Now it’s your turn.”

  “I’m a little disappointed by your secret. I thought you were going to tell me how much you’ve been lusting after my body since you first saw me.”

  I nipped his shoulder.

  He pulled me down to the towel until I was on top of him. With him beneath me, looking at me as if I was special, I felt very . . . strong.

  “Okay. You do deserve a secret. For the past few weeks I’ve been beating myself up over the attraction that’s been killing me since you came to town. I tried everything not to think about you—even swimming in the cold lake. But everywhere I went, you kept turning up. Watching you dance around that pole tonight made me want to claim you like a freakin’ caveman.”

  “You saw me?”

  “Yeah. I noticed a crowd gathering in front of Corinne’s and stopped to check it out. I arrived right as you were finishing your last dance. When I saw you spin around that pole, I couldn’t think straight for several minutes.”

  “What?“

  “My blood was somewhere else.”

  He shifted positions, cradling my shoulders from the hard dock until we were hip to hip and he was on top. He raised himself up on his elbow. I saw respect reflected in his gaze. It stirred something deep inside me that wasn’t sexual.... Although there was that too.

  Taking a piece of my hair that caught the breeze, he lifted it to his lips. Then he trailed his mouth down to my forehead, my eyes, and my lips.

  “You still taste a little like tears,” he muttered. Then he licked a small piece of skin on my temple.

  This time our lovemaking was sweet and unhurried. While the water lapped at the dock and the canoe drifted on its line in the wind, our bodies moved together in a smooth rhythm. I gasped softly when I reached my final climax and then I held him as he moaned into my neck for his own. We stayed together while our heartbeats recovered.

  “Thank you.”

  He laughed gently in the shadows. “You’re welcome.”

  The sun on my face and shoulders felt wonderful. I put my hand over my brow for shade as I slowly opened my eyes to greet the morning. I let my gaze wander, taking in the ribbons of sunlight that trailed across the sky as the day broke. And then the dewy glow of J. D.’s shoulders. He was sitting up with a towel wrapped around his middle. I reached for him and ran my fingers up his smooth skin, feeling the ridge of muscles stretch
ing taut. He had been watching me and he grinned as his eyes wandered. It took me a drowsy moment to realize that I was naked on a towel in the middle of the lake in the early-morning light.

  “Uh . . . J. D.?” I crossed my hands over my chest and searched for any other houses or cabins along the shore. Spotting one on the opposite side from J. D.’s house, I inhaled sharply. I scrambled for the towel we were sitting on. But it wouldn’t budge from under J. D., who sat calmly, staring at my nudity. His eyes twinkled in the sunlight.

  “Glad to see you’re awake.”

  I tugged harder at the towel. “Does anyone else live on this lake?”

  “Relax. You’re fine.”

  I sat up next to him and curled over my knees, trying to pretend it was normal to be naked in the middle of a lake.

  “So nobody’s sitting down for coffee and a view of the naked lady on the dock. Right?”

  “Beats the morning newspaper.”

  I looked around frantically and saw a cedar-shingled house behind me. He nodded toward it. “Don’t worry. The family who uses that hasn’t been up all summer.”

  I spied another smaller camping structure on a hill on the far side of the lake to the left of J. D.’s house.

  He saw my gaze and sent me a lopsided grin. “Hunters use that. Nobody there until November.”

  Taking a deep breath of relief, I peeked behind me at a small, single-story log cabin.

  “What about that one?”

  “That might be a problem. Gladys Stubbs lives there. She tends to be an early riser.”

  With a yelp, I rolled away and scrambled over the side of the dock.

  I went skinny dipping for a second time that day.

  Chapter 12

  “You dragged us to the library and now Booties,” Cherry complained. “Mom is not going to be happy.”

  “First of all, I can see that you were really disappointed by our library visit.” I nodded toward the books piled up between us in the front seat. I had been forced to cap the number of books and magazines she checked out by the amount she could carry. “Secondly, you aren’t going into Booties. I am. Your mom already knows I’m stopping by on official business. Understand?”

  “But I was planning on getting ice cream next!” Ellie said from the backseat.

  Welcome to my world, I wanted to tell her. I had been planning on a summer minus people, responsibilities, and men. Never in a million years did I think I would find myself entertaining two pint-sized girls, managing a festival, and half in love with the acting sheriff of Truhart. All before the Fourth of July!

  It had been more than a week since the pole-dancing party and the night on the dock. Except for the hours he worked, J. D. and I had hardly been apart. Before he left for work at dawn he sat on the edge of the bed and gave me a long kiss. He was almost late for his shift. Later, I sat on his deck with a bowl of cereal and watched a family of ducks play in the marshy reeds.

  I was caught somewhere between euphoria and panic. Every day I found myself waiting to hear from him and wondering if he had changed his mind about me. Every night I forgot my fears the moment I saw him.

  I turned into the Booties parking lot. Cherry, Ellie, and I sat in the car in front of a neon sign that wasn’t lit yet. Two cars were parked in front and I could see the outline of someone sitting inside by the window.

  “If you’re going to apply for a job, you can forget about it.” Cherry’s mouth turned up in a sarcastic sneer as she zeroed in on my smallish breasts.

  “How old are you again?”

  “Just sayin,’ ” she said with a cocky grin that I was becoming familiar with. It was more of a friendly taunt than a put-down.

  “I am picking up some paperwork for the beer tent at the Timberfest, if you really want to know.” I handed her one of the books. “Read!”

  “Don’t take forever,” Ellie pleaded. She was drawing imaginary lines with her finger across the back window. I rolled all the windows down and reminded them to stay put.

  I don’t know what I thought it would be like, but I wasn’t expecting the inside of Booties to look quite so ordinary. There were no pictures of naked women, or strange signs with perverted sayings. Inside the dimly-lit interior were the usual things one might find in a country restaurant: A long bar and counter with wooden stools, multiple beer taps and a rack of alcohol, an ancient-looking Indian cigar statue next to several hand-carved lumberjack figurines, and half-a-dozen TV screens on the walls. One of the TVs was turned to The Morning Show. A slick national weatherman with lots of hair promised everyone in the Midwest a perfect holiday weekend.

  “That guy’s an idiot.” A grizzled man with salt-and-pepper hair pulled back in a ponytail nodded at the TV.

  “Hello. Are you Bootie?” I asked.

  His Grateful Dead T-shirt didn’t look like a retro reprint like the one Elliot had at home. I had a feeling this shirt was as old as the band.

  He nodded. “You here about a job?”

  Cherry’s words echoed in my mind. Just the thought of me working in a bar would have sent my mother to the emergency room. Still, I couldn’t help but feel flattered that he thought I might be considered Booties material. Especially after Cherry’s snide assessment. “Ah, no. I’m picking up paperwork for the Timberfest. I’m Elizabeth Lively.”

  He raised his hand palm up. “Sorry. We’ve been short since the summer started and I’ve been hoping we might get someone to apply who has all her teeth and doesn’t have grandkids.”

  So much for flattery. He shifted through his paperwork. “Your order forms are around here somewhere. Are you ladies sure you don’t need any help? Some of my girls volunteered to serve if you need waitstaff. A community center is a good cause.”

  I didn’t want to tell him that the ladies did not think Booties girls were appropriate for the Timberfest. Even when I argued that we could implement a strict dress code, they adamantly declined.

  “I think we are good for now, but I’ll let the ladies know. And I appreciate your donating the beer for the festival, Mr. . . . ahhh . . . Bootie.”

  His gray eyes scrutinized me from under his bushy brows. “I am a taxpayer and I am committed to this community like anyone else. Just keep us in mind, if you decide differently.” He grinned and I saw a gold tooth gleam in the sunlight. “My wife and I may even be attending the Timberfest dinner-dance. So warn the mayor’s wife that we aren’t going to pretend we have French accents or anything.”

  “Well, Mrs. Bloodworth isn’t really in charge any more. We’re back to a normal Timberfest theme.”

  He chuckled. “What? No more being the Paris of the Midwest? That’s gotta bother Ms. Bloodworth more than hot sauce in her eyedrops.”

  He was right. Regina Bloodworth had complained to the city council, the Chamber of Commerce, and of course, her husband. But I suspected the fact that we hadn’t heard anything from them was because they were secretly relieved to be rid of the theme.

  “At this point we’ll be lucky if the mayor’s wife even attends the festival,” I explained.

  He slapped his hand on the table and laughed. “Well, I’ll be there for sure, then.”

  As I drove the girls to the Dairy Cow I kept thinking how nice Bootie seemed. It felt a little strange to take Bootie’s beer, knowing how the ladies viewed him. Hypocritical. But who was I to judge the ladies?

  At the Dairy Cow we took our ice cream to the picnic benches outside. It was still technically the morning, but I remembered how Grandma used to let me have milkshakes for breakfast at the diner. It couldn’t hurt once in a while.

  Ellie sat high over her milkshake, moving the straw around before lifting it out and tilting it into her mouth. Cherry ignored both of us. Her gaze was fixed on a group of kids near the fence. Cherry’s hair was pulled back today. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought she was an average all-American teenager. Earlier, when I had picked them up, I had been pleased to see that Cherry had not only taken a shower and washed her hair, but both girls h
ad cleaned their breakfast dishes. Maybe a few of the hints I’d carelessly dropped about how hard their mother worked had sunk in.

  Ellie looked across the table at me as I tackled a double scoop of black cherry and Mackinac Island fudge ice cream. “Elizabeth, how come you’re not as fat as the Dairy Cow?” she said, pointing at the sign. “You’re always taking us for food, but you look like you haven’t gained a pound. Mom says she gets a food baby when she eats like you do.”

  I licked the top scoop and vowed to take them for carrots next time. A group of teenagers walked past the table.

  “Hey, Cherry!”

  Cherry’s face turned red as she spotted them. The boy who greeted us had sun-kissed blond hair that was combed across his head in a pop-star style. He was dressed in khaki cargo shorts and a faded gray polo shirt. The other boy had light brown hair and light eyes. He walked with his hands in his plaid shorts and stopped in front of us as if he owned the place.

  “Who’s your friend?” he asked, nodding at me.

  “Halloo . . . I’m Elizabeth,” I said, trying to save Cherry any awkwardness.

  The two boys stared at me with raised eyebrows.

  “This is Luke Schraeder,” Cherry said, and I noted a strange hint of irritation in her voice. I shook his hand and remembered where I had heard that name before. He resembled the man who had been with Regina Bloodworth when they tried to open the file cabinets in the sheriff’s office.

  The other boy waved. “I’m Connor.” A piece of his beautiful hair was combed across his forehead and I hid my smile at the thought that these boys probably put more time into their hair than Cherry did. She was having a hard time appearing cool while finishing her ice-cream cone. It dripped down the sides and threatened to spill in her lap. She gave up and stood up to toss it in a nearby trash can. Evidently, she cared more about these kids than the ice cream she had nagged me about all morning.

  Luke narrowed his eyes and turned to Cherry, pointing at me with his thumb. “Is she your babysitter or something?”