by Jewel Allen
He beamed as he balanced expertly. They pushed off from the shallows, eventually settling into a nice rhythm. This was the way to experience Lake Powell…quietly and with the occasional whine of a motorboat off in the distance.
“Have you always lived here?” he asked.
“All my life. Except for a few short periods of time when I moved away to try other jobs. But I missed it here too much. Our parents were transplants from Sunnyridge, Colorado. I’ve also visited there a few times.”
“Are your parents still alive?”
“Dad passed away five years ago from cancer. Mom has since remarried.”
“Sorry about your dad.”
She glanced at him. “You don’t remember anything about your family?”
He blinked and looked at the ground. “Nothing. It’s like I have this movie in my head, and it jumps right to the day the officer found me in the slot canyon.”
“You talk like someone who’s had a good education.”
“You think? Well, there’s a clue.”
“You don’t talk like anyone here, anyway, especially with that accent.”
He flashed a slow smile. The kind that made her stomach flutter. “Is that good or bad?”
She bit her lip. He seemed to have a knack for turning their conversations personal.
“Uh-oh,” he said. “Is that flirting?”
She chuckled. “Yes.”
“Well, at least I got you laughing.”
His smile was cute. He was cute. She turned away from him resolutely. “Want to see something?”
“Sure.”
“Can you hold my paddle, please? Don’t let it sink! These kind don’t float the best.”
“I’ll tow you back if I do,” he teased, but he took the paddle from her.
She did a handstand on her board for two seconds before setting her feet back on.
An admiring glint filled his eyes as he handed her paddle back. “That’s fantastic. How do you do that?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve just been doing it for a long time.”
“All right.” His eyes glinted with determination. “I want to try it.”
She took his paddle and watched as he bent at the waist in one smooth movement. Thinking of his head injury, she said, "I don't think that's a good idea."
Still, he did a handstand on the paddleboard. “I’m doing it,” he said, triumphant. “I’m doing it—”
He tipped over with a spectacular splash. When he came up, surfacing for air, she worried for a moment. But he seemed fine, snorting with laughter. With a mischievous smirk, he swam toward her.
“Oh, no you don’t!” she said, just as he reached over and pulled her leg, making her lose her balance. She fell backward and crashed into the water. Sputtering, she surfaced.
“The paddles,” she gasped.
She got one, and he got the other, laughing. Then he used the paddle to splash water on her. She splashed right back until they went all out in a water fight.
“You asked for it,” he said, and she stuck her tongue out at him before swimming off to her paddleboard. It was hard swimming with a paddle in hand. His arms went around her waist, and she squealed.
“Let me go!” she said, laughing. She turned in her arms and was about to pound playfully on his chest, when she caught the expression in his eyes.
Intense. Hungry.
Her smile died as her chest tightened. Their faces were close together, his breath warm on her lips. She may as well be underwater; her lungs had forgotten to function. Droplets of water hung from his long dark lashes, and a lock of his wet hair had flipped over his forehead like some wild rock star. She had the sudden urge to reach up and run her fingers through the strands.
And then she remembered: she needed to keep her distance. She pushed firmly against his chest until he let her go.
“Sorry,” he said, his voice husky.
She turned and swam off, her skin still tingling from his touch. Wanting to return to him and scuttle all common sense to the wind.
What was wrong with her? Why did she always fall for the guy who wasn’t available? He wouldn’t be when he recovered from his amnesia, anyway. He had a life back home somewhere.
Mad at herself for her momentary weakness, she got on her board and paddled toward the beach.
She wished Oscar had come. He could have lessened the awkwardness between them. There definitely would have been fewer opportunities for near-kisses.
Ugh. You’ve only met the guy, he doesn’t know who he is, and you’re ready to kiss him?
Thank goodness the sun would be setting soon and it would be time to go home anyway.
She got out of the water and plopped herself on the sand. Duke was paddleboarding toward shore. He wasn’t looking her way, and she snuck a glance at how nicely built his body was. He probably worked out before she met him. Maybe she could invite him to the firefighters’ volleyball night on Wednesdays.
Inwardly, she sighed. She was being silly, trying to involve him in their small town when he was bound to leave soon.
She closed her eyes and lay back on the sand to catch the setting sun’s rays better. Her body filled with peace and relaxation.
There were sounds of Duke trudging toward her and then a thud as he threw himself down to lie on the sand too. She thought about scooting over to make sure they didn’t touch, but that would have attracted attention to her discomfort. His arm brushed against hers, and she resisted the urge to flinch. After a heartbeat, he inched away. She didn’t need to get her snoot out of joint.
She opened her eyes and lazily studied the sky, clear of clouds. It was already eight, but still the day promised an hour of summer. She loved this: a long evening of play after a hard day’s work.
“What are you thinking of?” he asked.
With her left hand, she gathered wet sand into a ball. “Just that I don’t want this summer to end.”
“I feel like summer’s just begun for me.”
She glanced at him. He was looking up at the sky, his profile strong and noble. Somewhere, someone was praying for his return.
She would.
Where did that come from?
“Your life’s just begun for you,” she teased.
Their gazes collided. His was tinged with desperation.
“I wish I knew who I was,” he said.
“Maybe it’s best if you don’t. You might have been a jerk.”
“Is that how I act now?”
“No,” she confessed. “Haven’t you seen that movie Overboard? She was an obnoxious rich woman before she got amnesia.”
He rested his head on his arm. “I don’t think I know that one. Does she change for the better at the end of the movie?”
“Will you watch it someday?”
“Maybe.” His voice deepened. “Maybe we can watch it together.”
A lump formed in her throat. She imagined them sitting side by side, sharing a bucket of popcorn. Reaching for a handful at the same time and bumping fingers…
“Maybe,” she said. “Anyway. If I didn’t know who I was, I could reinvent myself.”
He propped his head and studied her profile. She didn’t dare look at him in case he was giving her one of those looks. “And who would you become?”
“A woman of independent means.”
He crinkled his nose. “That sounds so old-fashioned.”
“It’s the title of an old book. Basically, a woman who could come and go as she pleases, because she has money.”
“What would you do with that money?”
A smile hitched at her lips. “Probably travel. Go on a motorbike and zip through South America.”
“Really? That sounds fun. Do you own a motorbike?”
“No.”
He chuckled. “Why did you think of that?”
She shrugged. “Why not? It’s crazy, and I never do anything crazy.” Like fall in love with a guy with amnesia. “How about you?”
He lay back down.
“I’d take a job at a boat repair shop.”
She laughed. “Check.”
“And meet a beautiful woman.”
Flirting alert. She should call him out on it. Instead, she sat up. “Time to go,” she said.
“Wait.”
When she gave him a wary glance, he sat up too and asked, “Why are you scared?”
“Who says I’m scared?” she said. She got up and started trudging toward the truck, annoyed.
He followed her. “Aren’t you?”
She whirled on him. “Listen. My brother took you in out of the kindness of his heart. It wasn’t my idea. So I would appreciate it if you didn’t keep psycho-analyzing me.”
“I just wondered why you act so skittish, like a colt. Are you divorced?”
“Me?” She laughed without real humor. “No. I’ve never been engaged.”
“Then why…?”
“I’ll tell you.” She took a step closer to him, her nerves tingling with frustration. “You’re not the first one to tell me I’m beautiful. I’ve fallen for those flattering words. Fallen hard. And then…” She passed a hand over her eyes. “Then they leave at the end of summer.” She stared hard at him. “You could leave before the summer’s over. Maybe tomorrow. You don’t even know who you are…or if you have someone waiting for you…somewhere.”
His eyes glimmered with sympathy. “I won’t lie. I’m not promising the moon.”
“I don’t expect you to.”
“But I do want to get to know you.”
“I’m not interested,” she lied.
His gaze fell to her mouth. “Say it again.”
She felt like a puppet, and he was trying to pull her strings. Her eyes flashed. Angry at him for forcing her to lie once again, she gladly repeated, “I’m…not—”
Raising his hand, he swiped his thumb across her lower lip, stilling her words. His touch could have set off sparks. Her breath hitched as he lowered his face so his mouth was just an inch from hers.
“—interested,” he finished with a nod. “Okay.”
Letting her go, he lowered his hand and casually walked around her to her truck.
What. Was. That.
She balled her fists in frustration. Having just told him off, she couldn’t help but feel she didn’t win that argument after all.
Chapter Eleven
Duke shouldn’t have done what he did, but he couldn’t resist. She had been so adamant about not being attracted to him when her body language clearly said otherwise. He meant what he said, though. He wanted to get to know her better. As for getting involved, he would take things day by day.
And yes, a kiss would be nice. He only meant to tease her, but once his thumb touched her lip, it took every ounce of his willpower to resist leaning in for one.
Despite the heat coming in from the rolled-down windows, the atmosphere in the truck was cool. They returned to the house, not speaking. She looked straight ahead, her hands gripping the wheel tightly. Once they parked, she got out and slammed the truck door shut, stalking ahead of him. Her outline against the porch light glimmered before she disappeared into the house.
Oscar met him at the door. “What’s got her steaming mad?” he asked. “Did you kiss her?”
“Nope.” But he sure had wanted to.
“That explains it, then. Maybe she wants a kiss.” Oscar chuckled and winked. “Don’t mind her. She acts all tough, but it’s just for show.”
“What’s her Achilles heel?”
“Achi-what?”
“You know, her weakness. Is it puppies? Horses?”
“Oh. She loves volleyball. Plays with the guys on Wednesday nights. She’s real good. She almost got a scholarship, but she hurt her rotator cuff, so she had to say goodbye to that. That’s why she’s stuck in this one-stoplight town with me.”
Duke nodded at one more puzzle piece falling in place.
A few minutes later, a delicious smell floated out of the kitchen. Despite his best intentions, Duke couldn’t resist poking his head in the kitchen. “Need some help?”
Brooke didn’t turn to look at him. “No, thanks.”
“What’s for dinner?”
“I’m just frying some pork chops.”
“Well, it smells good.” He offered an olive branch. “Can I help set the table?”
She hesitated. “Sure.”
He walked into the kitchen and looked around helplessly.
“In the cupboard, second from the left,” she said. “We’ll need bowls. There are forks and knives in that drawer.”
“Thanks.” He took out three plates, glasses, and sets of utensils. Brooke’s back was turned to him, so he had the opportunity to study the graceful curve of her neck and her athletic build. Yes, he could see her playing volleyball.
“Your brother says you like to play volleyball,” he said.
She glanced at him, that wary expression back in her eyes. “Yes, I do.”
“Sounds fun. I’d love to go play, if you’ll have me.”
Her eyes widened. “You play volleyball?”
“I think I do. If I don’t, I guess I’ll learn. Like boat work.” He tried to soften her with his smile, but she didn’t smile back.
“We’ll see,” she said, her lips forming a tight line.
He set the plates on the table, angling for anything to continue their conversation. “What do you do for the weekend around here?”
She transferred three juicy-looking chops onto a serving plate. “Sleep in. Clean house.” She paused. “Boat camp some Fridays. We shut down the shop and just take off. Usually when the tourist season dies down. Like right now.”
He took the plate from her and put it on the table. “What’s boat camping?”
“We take the boat up a canyon, find a sandy pull-out and protection from wind, and camp for the night. It’s easy. Simple. Sometimes we put up a tent, but most of the time we just sleep out in the open.”
“Are you going tomorrow?”
She eyed him with suspicion. “Yes. Why?”
“Can I go?” He added, in a hurry, “If Oscar is coming.”
“I am,” Oscar’s voice boomed from the living room.
Brooke bit her lip. Her glance slid toward him and away. “You can come too.”
“I’d love that.”
Her expression seemed to soften, but he couldn’t be too sure as she turned away. She called out to Oscar, “Come eat!”
Before they dug into the food, she said a blessing over the food. Duke liked the words she offered. She even mentioned Duke—that he would find his family soon. Her prayer brought him peace. Heaven knew he needed help. He wondered if Brooke and Oscar were the church-going kind. It seemed she or Oscar had said something about their church earlier, but he couldn’t remember now what it was.
“How long do you boat camp for?” he asked Brooke, cutting into his pork chop.
“We’re usually back by at least Sunday morning, in time to get all cleaned up for church. Sometimes, I just swim in the lake and call it good.” She favored him with one of her rare smiles. “This weekend, we’re shutting down the shop tomorrow so we can leave in the morning, and we’ll come back Saturday afternoon.”
Oscar’s phone rang, and he glanced at it. “It’s Lee,” he said, answering the call. “Got anything new on our buddy here? Nothing? Come on, don’t we pay you the big bucks to figure this out? Well, you’d better have some good news for us soon.” He hung up and looked at Duke.
“No luck. Sorry.” His expression brightened. “But don’t worry. I’m sure someone as good-looking as you will have girlfriends hunting you down.”
Duke winced. “Yup. That’s me.” He noticed Brooke’s tight expression and wanted to change the subject. He gestured to his empty bowl. “The chops were very good, by the way.”
Brooke’s mouth turned up in a smile. “Thanks.” She turned to Oscar. “I’m bushed. Do you mind washing up tonight?
Oscar scratched his head. “Yes, but I’ll do it anyway.”<
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“You better.” Brooke punched his arm. “Or I won’t feed you next time.”
“It’s your fault, Duke,” Oscar said. “She’s gonna think you and me are her dishwashers on duty.”
“I figure it’s only fair,” Duke said, “for good food.”
With an eye roll, Brooke exited the kitchen onto the deck.
“Well?” Oscar stared at Duke before gesturing outside with a side nod. “Go talk to her.”
Shaking his head with a chuckle, Duke followed Brooke outside. The moon hadn’t risen yet; just a crisp, clear night sky that showcased all the stars above. Duke stared at the Milky Way’s hazy pattern. When he looked back down, Brooke was watching him.
“Sorry,” he said, “I keep following you around like a puppy.”
“Yeah, it’s getting kind of annoying.” But she laughed.
“I just want to soak up as much of your life here as I can. It’s intriguing to me.”
She shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
He walked up to her, and she pointed at a telescope. “Go ahead,” she said. “Look.”
“Wow,” he said as the stars came into focus. “What exactly am I looking at?”
She told him the constellation names. “Our dad used to tell us all about the stars.”
“How did he know so much about them?”
“Just being out here, I guess.” She turned to him eagerly. “Just wait until we’re out boat camping. It’s amazing.”
“I can believe it. Where do you go?”
“Wherever the mood strikes. I try to find a cove that will have the evening shade and morning sun. It’s the perfect combination. A gas tank’s worth.”
Duke fiddled with the telescope and looked some more. “You do this most nights?”
“When I can.”
“You must love it.”
She gazed at the sky. “I got Dad’s love for the stars.”
“He must have been a special person.”
“He was.” Her voice sounded full of unshed tears.
He wanted to reach out to her. Touch her hand. But he resisted the temptation.
The sounds of Oscar doing dishes drifted from inside the house. A cat yowled in the distance. A dog howled. Otherwise, it was quiet. Peaceful. He could live here forever. But something nagged at him. Something he needed to finish or complete from his former life.