CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
WEST
I DON’T LET GO OF SKYLAR. MY BRAIN RUSHES A MILE A MINUTE. FOR A beat, I’m stressed. If this girl doesn’t know how to make a bed, does she know how to swim?
Within seconds, we surface together, under the cover of the canoe. Her legs kick just as steady as mine. She’s just as thoroughly soaked as I am.
“Are you—” Right as I’m about to ask her if she’s okay, she bursts out laughing.
It’s a deep belly laugh, magnified by the wooden dome overhead. It’s too dark for me to make her out, but I can feel her arms moving.
I’m struck for a moment. Struck by the fact that I don’t think I’ve heard her laugh—not like this. It’s different. Without a shred of self-consciousness.
Here, in this dark, private bubble, she seems a little more herself than she is outside of it.
I feel as though I know her better than I have any right to after tonight.
And that has nothing to do with having had my hands on her body and her
legs around my waist.
There’s no point in denying it.
I enjoy Skylar’s company.
“Only us,” she wheezes, treading water. “This would only happen to us.”
“If you hadn’t been grinding on my dick like an eager little —”
“You’re the one who picked me up and ruined my grinding.”
I can’t help but laugh now. “It was hot as hell while it lasted, though, wasn’t it?”
She agrees without hesitation. “It was hot as hell.”
“I’m glad you can swim.”
She scoffs at me. “I’m glad you can swim. Can you imagine if I had to drag your heavy ass to shore? Let’s get outta here.”
With that, she takes a deep breath and drops out from under the canoe. I follow her, and when we resurface, the night around us feels downright bright compared to the blacked-out cover we came from.
“I got the boat. You just get to shore.”
Another scoff. She swims to the other side of the canoe. “It’ll be easier if we do it together.”
I swallow, doing my best not to overthink that sentence. I do a lot alone, and I try not to let myself think too much about how nice it would be to have someone around. Instead, I focus on the complications that would come with it.
With Skylar, the complications don’t feel so complicated.
We don’t talk as we flip the canoe back over; we work in unison without even trying. Swimming it back to shore, wet clothes drape heavily from our limbs.
Based on the heavy silence that takes over, I may have mauled Skylar Stone for the first and last time tonight. I had my hands all over her and now she’s struggling to do her bra clasp back up.
“Here, let me.” I step around the canoe on the shore and gesture for her to face away from me.
Her wide eyes catch on mine and she slowly turns away, using both hands to gather her hair over one shoulder. I slide one hand up her back, starting at the waist of her jean shorts, fingers pushing beneath the heavy cotton of her tee.
A shiver wracks her body as my fingers slide up the column of her spine.
But we both know it’s not cold out. “You don’t have to do this.”
She goes to step away, but my free hand juts out, gripping her hip to keep her close. “I undid it, only seems fair I put it back where I found it.”
All I get in return is a nod. My second hand joins the first under her shirt and I make quick work of the clasp. Still, I find myself out of breath by the time I finish.
“Thanks,” she whispers, glancing at me over her shoulder with a million questions swimming in her eyes.
“Of course. This way.” I nudge my chin to the left along the shoreline as we lift the canoe in tandem, leading us back over the rough sand in bare feet.
Luckily, we spent more time floating than rowing and didn’t make it too far
from my property.
We move at an unhurried pace, picking our way around large rocks and logs. Both lost to our own thoughts, we don’t talk. She hisses a couple of times when the going gets rough on bare feet. But it’s followed by a quick, “I’m fine!” or “Just keep going.”
So I do. And when we get back to the tree where Ollie likes to sit, I stop for a beat to stare at it, to let us catch our breath. And yet, my chest tightens.
Just like she seems to have done every moment until now, Skylar sees straight through the break. “It’ll be nice to have him back tomorrow.”
I suck in a sharp breath, caught off guard by the way she plucked the thought from my head. Over my shoulder, I peek back at her. The silvery moonlight highlights the bow at the top of her lips as they curve into a soft smile.
The mention of tomorrow makes me realize we need to talk. Especially after what just happened on the boat. The things we did. The things I said.
So I tip my head, gesturing that we put the canoe down here. It’ll be fine wedged up against the embankment for the night, and it’ll give me a good reason to take the kids out fishing tomorrow afternoon. Spend some quality time out on the water with them.
God knows after that intense, sudden pang of missing them, I’ll probably do anything they want.
With the boat stashed, we shove our feet back into our shoes where we left them on the shore, and I lead Skylar to the short path up to the sloping lawn.
I count to ten before I decide to say something. I don’t often struggle to find words—it’s usually more about struggling to shut up—but this woman has me off-kilter in the most unfamiliar way.
Then, all at once, we both speak.
“So, about tomorr —”
“I think we should —”
We both bite down on our lips before glancing at each other. Humor etches her features, and I drop her gaze, staring down at my uncomfortable, wet jeans and her toned legs as we continue our march up the hill.
“You go,” she says.
I shake my head. “Ladies first.” She didn’t mean anything by telling me to go first, but it’s so her. It’s proof of the way they trained her to behave.
Like her opinion doesn’t matter as much. Like she should hold back her
thoughts and feelings until everyone else has had a go.
And who knows? Maybe we both want to say the same thing.
“Okay, first, I won’t be erasing that from my memory.”
I chuckle, watching the grass between my feet turn to dry dirt and pine needles as we pass closer to the house. “Thank fuck, because it’s burned into mine.”
She makes this sweet little humming noise, and it reminds me of her moaning into my mouth while my hands roamed. My dick feels uncomfortable against the wet denim.
“Second, we need to take a breath. I start working with Ford next week.
I’m feeling invigorated about making something all on my own, rather than terrified about it, and I want to keep feeling that way. I also know your kids are coming back. You’ve made it clear that you want to protect their space”—she huffs out a breath—“and, god, do I respect you for it.”
The house comes closer and closer, and at the bottom of the stairs, she turns to face me. “You’re a great dad, West. I may not know you that well yet, but I know you love your kids in a way that I wish every kid got to experience. So, let’s…” A wry laugh escapes her lips. “Let’s back it up a bit.
I’m going to start sleeping in the bunkhouse again tomorrow. We can take a breather for the week. I’m complicated, and I don’t want that to spill over into your family time. Plus, we’re good at being friends, yeah?”
She’s looking at me with such expectancy, such candor sparkling in her eyes. She’s being so mature and responsible.
Two traits I love.
But right now, I fucking hate them.
And all I want to do is blow up the mature and responsible parts of my brain and disagree with her. But I’ve learned to harness those urges over the years, so I nod and force a smile to my mouth.
“Yeah,” I say, because we are good at being friends. Something tells me
we’d be good at more too.
But I give her the win.
Trying to ignore the way my spine tingles as she follows me into the house. Trying to ignore the way my fingers itch to reach for her as we go our separate ways down the silent hallway.
I thought she and I might say the same thing tonight, but I was wrong.
She went with being responsible. And I was going to say Fuck what I said. I want you.
As I shower and crawl into bed, the more I think about it, the more I think I would have scared her if I had said it.
So I settle on showing her. I’ve got an entire week with the world’s biggest cockblockers in the house to show Skylar that with us…something is different.