Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78603 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78603 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
When I resurface, spluttering, I find him grinning like a mischievous kid. “You jerk!” I exclaim, wiping droplets from my face.
He swims closer, a contrite smile tugging at his lips. “Sorry, sweetheart. But you dared me.”
“You are so going to pay for that.” I lunge, hooking an arm around his neck, and we both sink into the water, laughing as we splash around. The buoyancy and cold shock wash away the tension that’s been clinging to me like a second skin. For a few blissful moments, it’s just us—a couple of people playing in a lake, with no threats or break-ins or bad guys to worry about.
Eventually, we settle into a rhythm of gentle swimming, drifting away from the shore. The lake isn’t huge, but it’s big enough that we can’t see the far side clearly. Tall pines ring the perimeter, and I realize it’s kind of beautiful out here—like our own secluded paradise.
I’m treading water next to Boone, watching him tilt his head back to let the sun warm his face. There’s a bead of water trailing down his cheek, and I have the sudden urge to lean in and kiss it away. So I do. I slip closer, cupping the side of his face, pressing my lips to that spot just above his jaw. He stills, eyes opening, and the intensity in his gaze makes my heart flip.
“Hi,” he murmurs, voice low and husky.
“Hi,” I echo, feeling heat rush through me despite the cold water.
He skims a hand across my waist, pulling me closer until I can feel the steady thump of his heart against my chest. “You’re freezing,” he comments, though his fingertips are warm against my skin.
“So warm me up.” My challenge comes out breathy, half daring him, half pleading.
His laugh is soft as he dips his head and captures my mouth in a gentle kiss. My eyes drift shut, and I melt into him. The water cradles us, and for a moment, it feels like there’s nothing else in the world but his mouth on mine, his arms wrapped around me.
He deepens the kiss, sliding his tongue past my parted lips, and I answer with a small moan. It’s a slow, unhurried dance, our bodies buoyed by the lake’s gentle current. Eventually, we break apart to catch our breath, forehead to forehead, breath mingling in the space between us.
“I could get used to this,” he admits softly, running his hands up and down my sides.
My chest tightens with a familiar mix of hope and fear. I want to believe that once this is over, we’ll find a way to keep this closeness, this odd paradise we’ve built in hiding. But a part of me can’t quite trust it. Not yet.
“Me too,” I whisper, my lips ghosting over his cheek. “But for now, I’ll settle for a fun day in the water.”
“Deal,” he says, a grin tugging at his mouth.
We spend the next few hours like kids on summer break—splashing, racing each other across the lake, diving for rocks on the lakebed (Boone wins that little competition, no surprise there). I even manage to climb onto his back and demand a piggyback ride through the shallow part, laughing so hard I nearly choke on the water.
We pause occasionally, drifting, letting the sun dry our arms and shoulders while the rest of us stays submerged. Boone cracks jokes about how this is probably the first time he’s gotten to have fun in a body of water that wasn’t crawling with potential threats or camouflage gear. I tease him that if he’s so used to dangerous waters, maybe I should stage a surprise attack, and he narrows his eyes at me like he’s considering the possibility.
It’s the most carefree I’ve felt in weeks. The tension in my neck and shoulders unwinds, replaced by a soft glow that I can only describe as peace—at least for a little while. My troubles aren’t gone, but they’re overshadowed by the simple pleasure of sunshine and Boone’s warm presence beside me.
Eventually, my stomach growls, and Boone laughs, patting his own abdomen. “We need food,” he declares, water droplets glistening on his chest. “I feel like I could eat a whole pizza.”
I grin. “Pizza, huh? You’re talking to the right girl, but I don’t think we have the supplies for a second pizza extravaganza. How about a couple of sandwiches back at the cabin?”
He pretends to think, tapping a finger against his chin. “Hmm, you are the pizza guru, but I guess sandwiches will do… for now.”
We wade back to shore, my limbs heavy from the exertion of swimming. The midday sun beats down, drying our skin as we trudge up the short path to the cabin. Boone grabs two towels from the porch, handing one to me. I wrap it around my shoulders, grateful for the warmth.