Текст книги "The Beauty of Lies"

Автор книги: Brinda Berry

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 14 страниц)

15

The $64,000 question

Leo

If a woman can ruin you, what does that say about you as a person? Tori came close to killing any self-respect I possessed. I wanted her so badly, I considered sharing her with another man. Not that I knew about the other man until I was already in dick deep. I was a man drowning in desire and desperation. Ready to believe everything she told me.

So, I’m irritated when Josie drops in for the sole purpose of bringing up the subject of Tori. I’ve told her that it’s taboo. I’ve buried that past and don’t speak her name. Now, Josie wants to bring her up like resurrecting some horrible voodoo talisman that keeps popping back up.

Josie sits at my bar, peeling the label from a beer bottle and leaving curls of paper in a mess. “Tori did something to Harper.”

I rub two fingers over the knot forming at the base of my neck. “What did she do?”

I prepare myself for whatever trash talk Tori has thrown Harper’s way. Tori and Josie have gotten into several yelling matches outside of Dastardly’s. I’m lucky Josie hasn’t decked her yet.

“She got Harper fired.”

The words echo in my brain because I need time to process. I stare at Josie. She’d never make this up. I know it’s the truth, but I cannot comprehend how this has happened. “Details, Josie. Details.”

Josie repeats her conversation with Harper. Each word drops a stone into my stomach, sitting heavy and insoluble. I’m going to need a vat of Tums to combat the indigestion. I massage my forehead, wishing I could erase this awful feeling that I’ve let Harper down. “Why am I finding this out now? Why didn’t Harper tell me?”

She glances at me with her patented you’re-a-dumbass look. “Have you set foot across the hall since the accident?”

I hate that Josie’s even mentioned the wreck. Every time I picture that semi hitting Harper in her truck, I want to vomit.

“No,” I say. “We both need some space.”

“You mean you did.”

“Josie…”

“Don’t Josie me.” She lowers her voice and shakes her head. “Can you not be such a guy for a minute?”

“I am a guy.”

“Whatever. Are you trying to lose her? Because you’re doing a fine job. She’s lost her husband in the past year. Lost her job. Maybe you decided that you guys couldn’t get along or whatever, but at least you could act like a man and not hide over here.”

“These doors open both ways. If she wanted to be friends, she’d come over. I told her I wanted us to be friends. She hasn’t been knocking.”

“What a cop out.” Josie gets off the barstool and throws her bottle in the trash. I figure she’s about to leave since I’m not agreeing with everything she says.

She turns to me and grabs her phone. “If you really want to be her friend, you’ll help me with something.”

I hesitate. “Maybe.”

“It’s Harper’s birthday on Friday. She won’t leave her apartment and I want to get her to Dastardly’s. Food and cake. That sort of thing.”

“What do you want me to do? Take her there?”

“No. I’ll bring her. She won’t come with you.” Josie’s tone is light and she’s not trying to be shitty.

Still, I’m hurt that my sister is right. I don’t know that Harper would go anywhere with me. The trip home from the hospital had been painfully cold and impersonal. “OK, give me an assignment.”

“I’ll email you. There’s a list of stuff I need done. I can’t leave the store to run all my errands and you have time.”

“What? You have as much time as I do. I’m not your honey-do. You need to find one of those.”

“You don’t want to make Harper’s birthday nice?”

“Hold on. I said I would. Text or email the list to me.”

“Dane said we can have the back room at Dastardly’s. You’ll be able to store decorations in the closet there. OK?” She sticks her bottom lip out at my expression. “Pleeeeasse.”

“Why couldn’t I have a brother? Remind me why I let you come in and boss me around?”

“’Cause you love me.” Josie smirks and heads for the door.

“Yeah. Guess so.”

She ignores my grumbling and pauses with her hand on the knob. “I think you should tell Tori I’m going to find myself a nice Mafia boyfriend to take her out if she even thinks about pulling any shit again. Capiche?”

“I’ll tell her today.”

“You do that. I’ll send her a copy of The Godfather if that’ll make it clear.”

“Out. Go.”

Josie beams at me over her shoulder as she leaves.

I grab my phone and open the messaging app. My phone is filled with missed calls, voicemails, and unanswered texts from Tori. I’d come close to blocking her number.

Me: I’d like to talk to you

Tori: WHEN? <3

Me: Now if you can get away

Tori: 2:00?

Me: Yes

Tori: YOUR PLACE?

Me: No

Tori: :(

Me: Tonton Park

Tori: K <3 <3 <3

Tori pulls her car in beside mine in the lot. I’ve had time to let my anger simmer to a low boil. She waits for me to get out before she exits.

“What a nice surprise.” Tori leans in and hugs me.

I don’t have time to react before the contact is over. Once, I’d have given both nuts and a pinkie finger for this woman. The hug is meaningless now. No thrill, no need, nothing.

“Let’s walk.” I don’t trust my anger unless I can rid myself of the pent-up frustration about what she’s done. I probably won’t resort to yelling if we are around other people.

She looks down at her high heels. Tori always dresses, even for work at the salon, as if she’s going clubbing. When we dated, it was a fact that amused me and made me hard for her at the same time. But I see now that she works hard to advertise herself.

I’m tempted to choose a walking trail as punishment.

“I guess I can. If I trip, you’ll have to catch me,” she says.

I respond by pointing to some kids’ playground equipment. “OK, then. We’ll sit.”

Tori’s frowning. I’m not exactly falling into her plan for a nice, afternoon rendezvous. I sit on a bench and she takes the spot next to me.

“You and I need to talk about some things that have happened.”

“I agree. I want you to know I’ve made a decision.” Tori smiles at me. It’s a little scary because she looks away and seems shy. It’s not her usual confident fall-under-my-spell smile she usually flashes.

“What about?”

“Us.” Her gaze flicks to mine. “I’m leaving him.”

She says ‘him’ as if he doesn’t have a name. Or maybe she is foolish enough to think I’ve forgotten about her husband.

“Tori—”

She grabs my hand with both hers. “I know you didn’t get the open marriage agreement. It worked for me and James until I met you. That’s why I couldn’t tell you in the first place. I knew you wanted all of me. But I’m leaving James. We can get married. Or live together for a while if that’s what you—”

I pull back in surprise. Her long nails press into my skin. She reminds me of some eagle trying to hold onto its prey. I snatch my hand away. “It’s not going to happen. Ever. If you need to leave him, then do. But don’t do it for me because I keep telling you we’re over.”

“I know I hurt you. I know and I promise I’ll never do it again. But you can’t give up on us. I know you loved me.”

I shake my head. “It’s all in the past. I don’t know how many ways I can tell you. You have to put the notion out of your head that we’ll get back together. We can’t go back. You told too many lies. And that hurt, Tori. It did. But I don’t want us anymore.”

“I know you don’t believe me this time. But I swear I can prove myself to you.”

“Tori. Stop it. I’m not in love with you.” I hold my knuckles against my forehead to stop myself from slamming them into the park bench. Anything to make her shut up. “I didn’t come here for this. I came to tell you to leave Harper alone.”

“What?”

“Don’t talk to her. Don’t ask about her. Don’t breathe the same air she does.”

“Or what? You’ll do what? I know you turned to that little whore because you were lonely. But you can’t just replace me. We have something together.”

I stand and point at Tori. “Be careful. You don’t have the right to breathe her name. Don’t make me do something drastic.”

“What does that mean? Drastic?” Tori grabs her keys and gets to her feet. “You can’t threaten me.”

A man jogs by and slows down as if he needs to protect Tori. He stops in front of us and I glare at him.

“Is there a problem here?” he asks, putting his hands on his sides and catching his breath.

Tori gives him her sweetest smile. “No. Just a lovers’ quarrel.” Then she turns and walks away.

After returning to my apartment, I consider drinking my way through the afternoon. It’s not really my style, but I’m so pissed that working isn’t in the cards for me. I spend an hour tossing a handball against the wall of my bedroom.

My hand is sore and I don’t feel any better for engaging in the mindless activity. That’s when I remember I’m supposed to be doing some errands for Josie. I check my email to find a very short list: 1. Order a birthday cake, 2. Pick up a birthday card, 3. Buy an eReader. Hell. Harper doesn’t need an eReader. She can borrow books from me.

I pause and feel a little sick. Maybe she’s mentioned getting one and that’s the reason Josie has it on the list.

It’s late in the day, but Erik is manning the phone at the bakery and takes my last minute order for Harper’s birthday cake. Even though Josie wasn’t specific, I order a chocolate cake because I know Harper will like it.

The card’s easy but the eReader isn’t. This late, I’d have to pay overnight shipping to get it in time. Or go to a mall.

I call Josie. “Hey. Why can’t you just get her some books from the store?”

“Because I want to get her an ereader. Then she can download whatever she wants.”

“You don’t have those in stock?”

“No, doofus. I run a bookstore. Electronic devices are the competition. I mean, I have cases, but I don’t carry the electronics. Never mind. I’ll go buy one after I close the store.”

“I’m getting it.” I grab my keys and grimace. Shopping.

An hour later, I’m stuck in rush hour traffic, trying to find a bookstore not as antiquated as Dog Ears or an electronics store. It gives me too much time to think—about how Harper still hasn’t explained the whole husband drama on the postcard.

It actually has kick-ass potential as a blog post. Harper’s postcard. Monogamy. The human dilemma. What makes some accept this tradition while others embrace multiple partners. It’s what my advertisers pay for—sensationalism.

But I’d never post it. She put too many names in for it to be anonymous. I don’t know what she was thinking or wasn’t thinking.

The irony of our common experiences, our distrust of each other, isn’t lost on me. She had husband who conned her. Married her. Or maybe didn’t actually marry her. I don’t even know if her marriage was legal.

I had a woman who told me she loved me with an intensity that left me a believer, but failed to tell me about her husband.

Finally, I arrive at the store and grab an iPad with wifi. It’s more than Josie sent me to buy, but I pay the difference. It’ll give Harper a way to watch movies if she doesn’t feel like reading.

In the parking lot, my cell rings and it’s Gunner. I answer with one hand and open my car door. “Hey man. What’s up?”

“How are you?”

“Good. Out running errands. Can I give you a call back?”

“Dane thought I should call you. He can’t get away. He’s tending bar. Your ex, Tori, is here at his place.”

“Yeah? I don’t care.” I start the engine.

“She says she’s going to see Harper and teach her a lesson. I guess she doesn’t realize that Dane will tell you everything she says.”

“Is she still there?”

“I’m at the end of the bar and I can still hear her talking. Anyway, Dane thought you should know and maybe warn Harper not to open her door to any…”

“Any what?” I can’t think straight I’m so angry.

“I quote here, lethal bitch like Tori.”

“Will do. Thanks.” I grimace and wonder if Dane’s opinion of Tori is a brotherhood thing or if he felt this way the entire time I dated her. It doesn’t matter.

I should’ve made it clear to Tori that Harper and I aren’t dating. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about Harper. Tori would back off.

It seems like an eternity before I pull into the lot behind our building. Harper’s lights are dim. The wreck totaled her truck, leaving her without a vehicle, so I knew she’d be at home. There’s the glow of a lamp that shows through her windows and I wonder what she’s doing. Reading? I wrack my brain trying to remember if she still has any of my books.

When I make it to my door, I pause and listen as if I can hear through walls. The silence is eerie. Be a man. We can be friends and I can take the first step. One step for all dudes everywhere who want to be friends after it’s over.

I peck softly on her door. “Harper? It’s me.”

Silence weighs heavy as lead in the air between me and the door. She’s on the other side of it, ignoring me or cursing me. I know it.

“Harper. I know you’re in there. I thought you might want to…Hey, you want to borrow a book?”

Lame, lame, lame. What I really want is to see her face. See her curl up on my sofa with her feet tucked underneath her while she watches television. Talk with her about nothing in particular.

I lean against the wall of the hallway, checking my phone for email and browsing the internet so she can have the chance to change her mind and open the door.

Tori’s pissed and could show up. She’s not quite right in the head at the moment.

The outside door to the building doesn’t have a lock. I haven’t worried about this fact in the past, but it looks like an open invitation to every psycho who might want to harm Harper. Inside my apartment, I find a bungee cord that will work to rig the door closed from the inside.

I use the cord to secure the door to a barbell from my place. It looks like a seventh grade booby trap, but I’ll have the landlords do something about installing a real lock. I keep thinking she’ll be curious with all the banging around and investigate and I’m disappointed when she doesn’t.

If anything happened to Harper because of me, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. Tomorrow, I’ll convince her that we can be friends.

Tonight, I’ll try to convince myself that it’s all I want from her.

16

Olive Branch

Harper

I frown as I look through the peephole. Leo knocks softly at my door. Nine o’clock in the morning is too early for me to put my emotional guard up. I’m not sure why he’s outside my door.

I press my face to the peephole again so I can take in the full effect of him. He’s really quite overwhelming with his gorgeous eyes framed by long, dark lashes. If eyes are truly the windows to the soul, I wonder what Leo’s say about him.

Passionate. Beautiful. Intense.

Boom. Bababababoom. He bangs on the door, literally making me stumble back a foot and grab my chest. Is he trying to kill me? I return to the peephole and regular breathing.

“Harper. If you don’t answer the door, I’m going down to the bakery and getting Eric’s key. He’ll give it to me.” He glares at the door. Then his gaze moves exactly to the peephole and I slink to the side in one smooth step.

“OK. I’m getting the key,” he says.

I place my hand on the deadbolt and turn the tiny knob. “Just a minute.”

When I open the door, he stands with his arms folded across his chest. “May I come in?”

I shrug and take a step back.

“I knocked last night, but you must’ve been asleep,” he says.

Our eyes meet. He doesn’t believe that and I don’t feel like defending myself. “Did you need something?” I ask. It’s a grand effort to speak the words evenly and detached.

“Why, yes. I did.” He strolls across the room and sits on a barstool. He’s wearing a T-shirt, cargo shorts and is barefoot. I stare at his tan legs, finely sprinkled with hair. I remember the feel of them as they rubbed up and down the length of mine when we lay in bed together the morning after our first time together.

It was more soothing than sexual. An affectionate play with my toes stretching to touch his. His legs capturing mine between his.

“I need a favor.” He tilts his head and gives me a soft smile that reaches his eyes. “Please.”

I want to tell him I’m busy or that I have no desire to do him a favor. He shouldn’t ask me to do anything for him because my poor heart is already pining away enough as it is. No, no, no. He knew that ‘please’ at the end would get to me. “Yes. What do you want me to do?”

He grins. It’s a little boy gleeful grin that makes my chest squeeze like I’m being hugged by a bear. “Great. It may take a while. You don’t have anything to do right now, do you?”

“No.” I eye him suspiciously.

“Change into some old clothes. I’ll be back over in ten minutes.” He glances at my bare feet. I’m still in my sleep shorts and a tank. “You have tennis shoes?”

“Um…yeah. Sure.” I need my head examined by a professional. There has to be a medical term for this.

Yes, it’s insanity. That’s it.

“Wear them.” He hops up from his seat and leaves me staring after him.

True to his word, he returns for me in ten minutes wearing a ballcap and carrying a backpack over one shoulder. I lock up and follow him outside. “Are you going to tell me what you want me to do?”

“I will.” He squints into the sun. “Get in.”

Leo opens the door of his car and runs around to get in. Once inside, he finds a pair of sunglasses in the console. “Here. Wear them.”

“Am I incognito?” I smirk. It’s going to be tough to be grumpy when he’s so cheerful.

He leans forward and slides them onto my face. His fingers casually touch my skin and the contact sears me as if he’s touched some forbidden part of me.

My gasp must’ve been audible, or maybe I flinched. I’m not sure, but the air in the car changes and he looks away.

“We need to hit the road.” He starts the engine and we head out.

I spend my time watching the metro area change to residential and then to country. We drive in silence. No radio. No conversation. Just the sounds of the outside world telling me that life goes on. I imagine it saying that I’ll be okay. Hundreds of people we’ve passed have experienced far worse than I and they are all okay.

We drive underneath a canopy of trees. Horses run in a pasture, edging parallel to a white, board fence that reminds me of a movie scene.

Leo makes right turn onto a private road which only allows one car. From the corner of my eye, he glances over at me. I force myself to look straight ahead.

“Almost there,” he says.

“What is this place?”

“You’ll see.”

“Is there a reason you won’t tell me? Let me guess. This is a body farm.”

“What?” His tone is curious laced with amused. “What are you talking about?”

“I saw it on television and then read a book about it. This is my punishment for not telling the truth. You’re sentencing me to hard labor at The Body Farm. You know. That place where they study how corpses rot.”

He laughs, the sound all deep and throaty, tickling along my ears. “There are no dead bodies here. That place isn’t in Nashville. It’s in Knoxville.”

I smile to myself. The joy in making him laugh is enough to fuel my happiness for a week. I’m pathetic.

We turn down another one-car lane and a lake appears out of nowhere. The bright sun glints off the water. “Hey. What’s this?” I bounce in my seat and the belt strains against my body. I haven’t been to a lake since going out with my dad as a kid.

“This is a secret.” Leo pulls off to the side of the road. “We’ll have to walk the rest.”

There’s no path, but Leo seems to know where he’s going. Someone has bush-hogged the grass so it’s not high and I’m glad I wore tennis shoes. I haven’t really done much outside since walking the dogs at Le Frou Frou’s.

I inhale and put my face up to the heavens. “Okay. Even if this is a body farm, I’m in. It’s great out here.”

The sunlight warms my skin and soul.

“Keep up.” Leo walks around a cluster of bushes and I follow obediently.

Like a desert mirage, a dock and boathouse appear. There are a couple of small fishing boats in a slip at one end. The boathouse is old and worn.

“Who owns this?” I step onto the wooden dock and follow Leo.

“Gunner’s neighbor.”

“We’re trespassing?” The question comes out as more of a squeak than I intended.

“No. The guy doesn’t stick around much and asked my friend Gunner to keep an eye on things. Gun takes care of the horses for him. The guy told Gunner he could fish anytime he wants. He said we could use the fishing supplies.”

Leo leads the way into the unlocked boathouse. Inside, he grabs two fishing rods and a tackle box. There’s a refrigerator in the corner and he opens it and grabs a white Styrofoam container. “Ready?”

I nod and go with him out onto the dock. He places his backpack in the shade of the building, sits at the end of the wooden planks, and takes off his shoes and socks. “Have a seat.” He pats a spot next to him.

The wood dock is at least eight feet wide, plenty of room to sit on opposite ends. Still, it’s silly to sit so far apart that I can’t reach the tackle. I sit a foot from Leo.

“We’re going to fish?” I take my shoes off and let my feet dangle close to the water. I can almost touch it.

Leo opens the tackle box and begins threading a bobber onto the translucent line. “Um hm.”

“Oh.”

He flips the lid of the Styrofoam container up and pulls out a long worm. “Bait your own hook or do I need to do it?”

“I can.” I take the rod and worm from him. “So, what’s this favor?”

He shrugs and gives me a patient look. “I needed a fishing partner.”

“And Gunner or Dane couldn’t?”

“I didn’t ask either of them. I wanted to fish with you.”

I stop breathing for a second and concentrate on the worm’s wiggly body. I cruelly spear him onto the hook. I feel your pain, Mr. Worm. I’m a worm on a hook. He’s baited me.

“Plus,” he says. “I heard it’s your birthday and thought it would be fun.”

“Ah.” I lift my gaze to his, my pulse picking up speed. A lump forms in my throat as his thoughtfulness. “Did Josie tell you?”

He nods and finishes preparing his own rod. “She mentioned it.”

“Well, you didn’t have to do this. I know you have work to do at home. We don’t have to stay.”

“You wouldn’t answer your door last night. You only answered this morning under threats that I’d get a key. And believe me. I would have. Can we at least call a truce for today?”

I shrug and put my thumb on the release button of the reel. I flick the rod back and forward, releasing the button at the perfect time. The line casts out in a beautiful arc and plops into the water.

“Have you ever been horrified and terribly excited at the same time?”

I glance over at him, confused. “No. I don’t know.”

“I’m excited that you actually know how to fish and horrified because I wanted to be better at it than you.”

I giggle. I hate gigglers, for the most part. Giggling isn’t pretty unless it’s done by a five-year-old girl or a ninety-year-old woman. Still, I can’t help myself with Leo. “I’ll teach you how.”

He clucks his tongue. “Over-confident much? Let’s see who catches more fish by lunchtime. We have to release them, but we should keep count.”

“You’re on.” I grin lazily.

“Who taught you to fish?”

“My daddy. It’s been a long time though.”

Leo doesn’t have a bobber on his line. He reels in slowly and finally the fishing lure appears, spinning hypnotically. “My dad taught me to fish, too.”

“And Josie?”

“Oh yeah. She followed me and the guys around everywhere. She didn’t know she was a girl until we graduated high school.”

“Then what happened?”

“I don’t know. We went to different colleges. She figured it out then, I think. Or at least she decided to have a boyfriend during that time.”

“Oh.” I watch my bobber sit on the top of the water. “I wanted to go to college once. I thought I’d make a good nurse.”

“So why didn’t you?” He stops reeling in his line and looks at me.

“I told you. I met Wesley and got married and that was that.”

“Married people attend college.”

I give him an exasperated look. “Some do, I’m sure. Wesley liked for me to stay at home.”

“And you did what Wesley wanted.”

My temper threatens to poke its prairie dog head above ground. “Yes. I lived too far from town and didn’t have a car or a job.”

Leo raises an eyebrow. “Easy there. Only asking.”

“You want to know everything. I can tell. But it’s all behind me and I’m sorry about deceiving you. I’ve said that.”

“Why did you email me as Angel?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes people do stupid things. No one’s called me Angel in years except my parents. Wesley never did. It’s my middle name. I guess I was so mad that I wanted to go back to the innocent time when people called me Angel. But you can never go back. Angel was a kid. Harper is an adult.”

“That makes sense.” One corner of his mouth lifts in encouragement.

I hesitate. “Your turn. Why didn’t you tell me you dated a married woman? You had an affair.”

“I didn’t know she was married. I stopped seeing her when I found out.” He pauses, examining my face.

I’m glad for the sunglasses that hide my eyes. I tear up immediately. I’d assumed he knew. That he’d been deceitful and the kind of guy I could never be with again after Wesley. “Good.”

The one word is so insufficient. I cringe just thinking about the way I now expect the worst of people instead of the best.

“I’m sorry about what Tori did. Josie told me. Hey, I’ll help you find another job. And Tori’s not going to bother you again. I swear it.”

So, has he been talking to Tori? Are they back together like Tori said and that’s why she won’t bother me? My throat has tightened like a fist encloses it. Squeezing and squeezing. But I won’t let myself cry. I turn away from him, just in case a tear slips through.

“You’re not speaking to me now?”

His cajoling, teasing tone triggers the tears and I stay turned away from him.

I feel a hand on my back and I jump, startled by the touch. Sensitive to everything. The movement is too sudden and I lose my balance on the edge of the dock.

The shock of cold water hits my body. I flail, sucking in water, my lungs and nose and throat burning with the invasion.

Then something pins me and I struggle against it. Kicking and pushing. Panic screaming like a banshee inside my brain.

My head clears the surface of the water and I sputter. Everything inside me is on fire. I cough and struggle for oxygen. I fight the restraint holding me. Still, the arms around me don’t let go.

Leo carries me out of the water and places me on the grass. I turn my head and cough water until my lungs cry relief.

“Harper. Are you OK?” Leo’s hair lies plastered to his head and water runs in rivulets down his cheeks and eyelashes.

I shake my head no, but I mean yes. But I’m not okay. I’ll never be okay without him.

He rubs his hand over his face. “The water’s not deep. Only twelve feet or so. You just went down so fast. Fuck. You sunk like a rock.”

“I got scared. I can’t swim.” I give him the tiniest of smiles. Not that the fact is relevant at this point as I lie half-drowned on the grass in my drenched clothes. Or maybe it is. Maybe I’ve always fallen in too deep because I don’t think ahead.

He draws in a deep breath and sweeps pieces of hair from my eyes. His hand shakes and he laughs nervously. “I wasn’t going to let you drown, babe.”

Babe. I don’t think he even realizes he’s said it. “I’m OK,” I say and attempt to sit.

I stare into his eyes, the color of skies and water and serenity. A place where I could find myself again. My instincts tell me that he loves hard and true. That he puts a lot of thought into giving his heart to someone. But I’ve lost my chance to be the person he wants.

After several minutes, Leo grabs my hand and pulls me up. “Come on.” His gruff voice cuts into my melancholy.

Maybe he’s read my thoughts and regrets that we can’t start over.

I’m wobbly and shaken, but not hurt. We walk to the boathouse and Leo has me sit in a lawn chair that he finds inside. “Don’t fall out of this.”

“Ha ha. I’ll try.” But I’m far from the water and still trembling. My clothes stick to my skin like a wetsuit.

I’d worn a white T-shirt and thin, tan cotton shorts. Now, both reveal my bra and panties as if I have nothing on over them.

Leo’s heated gaze ignites shivers along my body. I press my knees together and look away.

“The boards of the dock are too hot to lie on. I’ll find a blanket and we can get some sun. It’ll dry your clothes.”

He disappears inside the boathouse and returns with a large blanket that he spreads on the grass. “Take your clothes off.”

“Excuse me?” I suck in air and hope he can’t read my mind. A thousand hot images of us together flash through my head.

“Not everything. Strip down to your—” He motions toward me with his hand and seems hesitant. “Down to your panties and bra. I’ll put those on the dock and we can sunbathe until they dry.”

“No.”

“Don’t be silly. It’s not as if you’ll be naked. They’ll dry faster off and we can enjoy the sun. I brought SPF 30 sunscreen and forgot about it. If that’s what you’re worried about…”

As if that is my main concern. A sunburn.

“What about your clothes?”

“What about them?” He pulls off his shirt. Warm, golden skin greets me and a happy trail of blond hair leads like an arrow to a place now off-limits to me.

My mouth goes dry.

“Shorts. Your shorts are wet, too.” The devil made me say it.

He actually squirms. Leo places his hands on his hips and looks down, shaking his head. “No, I don’t think it’s a good idea if we both get naked.”

“That’s what I thought. You must not think we can just be friends.”

His brow creases. “What’s that mean?”

“Two things. You think it’s OK for me to be exposed, but you’re going to keep your goods all covered up. And you are afraid you won’t be able to control yourself.”

Leo grins. “You sure are sassy today.” He pulls his cargo shorts down and stands in black briefs. Skimpy black briefs.

Not-enough-left-to-the-imagination briefs.

My heart does a catapult into my mouth, curving my lips into a spontaneous smile. No chickening out now. He thinks we can only be friends?

I shimmy out of my wet shorts and drape them over the chair. Then comes my shirt. The warmth of Leo’s hot gaze is hotter than the sun. I catch him looking, and he looks embarrassed.

I wring water from my hair with one hand and walk to the blanket.

Leo stays on his side of the blanket and sprays sunscreen on his face and chest. I spray myself, even though I’m tempted to ask him to do it. We lie side by side on the blanket, our bodies not touching but painfully aware of each other.