“You tilted forward, toward the rope. Don’t worry about it. It’s a natural instinct to do that. Just remember, lean back, away from the rope. And squat down a bit.”
“I’ll try to remember that next time.”
Except she did the same thing the next time, smacking the water with her face and body.
“This is starting to hurt,” she said to Luke, who grinned at her as he tossed her the rope.
“Your body or your ego?” he asked.
“Uh, both.”
“Don’t give up. Not everyone gets up on their first try.”
“I suppose you did.”
He didn’t say anything to that, which obviously meant he had. And if he could get up, so could she. She was coordinated. She’d taken dance and gymnastics as a kid. She could do this.
With renewed determination, she pointed her skis, grabbed the rope handle, and when it started to pull, she leaned way back and made sure to keep her knees bent.
She didn’t face-plant that time, and she actually got up to a squatting position as Luke propelled the boat forward.
She was up! Exhilarated, she let out a squeal of joy, though it was short-lived because this skiing thing took a lot of concentration and a lot of muscle as the line tugged her forward. She was glad for all the Pilates and yoga classes Jane and Chelsea had forced her into taking over the past few months, because her core muscles were definitely getting a workout as she rode along the waves.
She made it about five minutes before losing it on a high wave. Luke came around.
“You did it.”
“I did. Can I go again?”
“Of course.”
Determined to stay up longer this time, she got up easier than the last time and stayed up. She spent about an hour skiing, though she’d fall and then have to restart. But each time, she learned something new about how to ride through a wake or adjust her body.
When she climbed back into the boat, her limbs felt like spaghetti, her arms and legs shaking from the effort.
Luke handed her a towel. “You did really good.”
“Thanks. It was so much fun, but oh my God, what an effort. Definitely not as easy as it looks.”
“Yeah, it takes some practice, but you handled it great.”
“Now why don’t you show me how to drive the boat so you can ski for a bit? Surely it’s not rocket science.”
Luke waffled a little, and she kept arguing because she knew he really wanted to get out there in the water. He finally caved.
“Okay. We’re in the deep part of the lake, so if you head along the straights,” he said pointing the way, “you shouldn’t hit anything.”
“You have such confidence in me. Just tell me where not to go, and I’ll make sure to stay away from those places.”
He dug out the lake map and showed her the shallows. She nodded and told him to get his life jacket on.
“I can ski for a long time. I’ll just wave my hand when I’m done. If you feel like you don’t want to drive the boat anymore, just slow it down and I’ll drop. Then you can come alongside and pick me up.”
She nodded, and he went in the water and got his ski on. Obviously he was an expert at this thing since he was going to do slalom, using only one ski for both feet.
When he gave her the signal, she pushed the throttle and slowly got up to speed, keeping her eye on him. When he was up, she kept her focus mainly on the water and the other boaters, occasionally looking back to be sure Luke was still up and behind.
He was right about staying up for a long time. He was a natural at water-skiing, and she enjoyed taking the occasional peek at him flying through the water, one hand on the rope, the other waving at her or other boaters as they rode past. When he finally let go of the rope and dropped ever so expertly into the water, she turned the boat around and came alongside him. He tossed his ski onto the boat and climbed back on board, shaking his wet hair at her.
She laughed. “Enjoy yourself?”
“Hell, yes. Thanks for driving.”
“It was my pleasure. I liked handling the controls.”
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, his wet body doing nothing to cool down the raging heat his kiss had evoked within her.
“You like being in control, huh?”
She palmed his bare chest. “That wasn’t at all what I meant.”
“So you like giving up control?”
She pushed back. “And that wasn’t what I implied, either.”
He laughed and grabbed the towel, then started up the boat again and drove them to a shady spot where he dropped the anchor.
“How about some lunch?”
“That sounds perfect. Water-skiing makes me hungry.”
They’d made sandwiches and she’d cut up fruit that morning, so they ate and drank in the shade while the boat bobbed in the water. The waves had started to pick up as clouds began to thicken.
“Rain might be moving in,” Luke said as they both watched the sky.
“Should we head back?”
“Probably. We don’t want to be caught out on the water in case there’s lightning or a downpour.”
They finished lunch, packed up all the gear, and Luke made his way back to the boat dock. Once again, Emma hopped out of the boat and backed the truck and trailer down the ramp, while Luke pulled the boat onto the trailer. Once secured, Luke climbed into the truck and drove them back to the cabin.
While Luke unpacked the truck and the boat, Emma went over to the run to release the dogs. By then the skies had darkened considerably and the wind was picking up, dirt and leaves blowing around on the ground. She was glad they’d made the decision to head back to the house.
She let the dogs inside. Luke was in the kitchen.
“Did you get everything unloaded?”
“Yeah. Looks like a good storm coming in.”
She nodded as she met him in the kitchen and opened the cooler to unpack the sodas and leftover food. “Yeah, it does. Does anything outside need to be secured?”
“I’ll handle it.”
“Okay. I’m going to head up to take a shower.”
“I’ll do that myself after I finish outside.”
Emma grabbed a quick shower and slipped into a cotton sundress, leaving her hair damp. Luke showed up just as she was finishing combing out her hair.
“Wow, you look gorgeous.”
She laughed. “My hair’s wet and I have no makeup on.”
He kissed her shoulder. “I like you that way.”
He was so . . . different from Vaughn, who’d preferred her dressed up, made-up, always perfect.
She took a deep breath. “I’ll let you take your shower. I think I’m going to make us some iced tea.”
“Sounds good. I’ll be right down.”
She brewed the tea, then poured it in the pitcher, adding ice. By the time she gathered up sugar and sliced lemons, Luke had reappeared in a pair of shorts and a sleeveless top, his hair still damp from his shower. He slipped his arms around her and pressed a kiss to her cheek.
“You smell good.”
She took a deep breath. “So do you. I made sweet tea. I can brew a pot of unsweetened if you’d rather have that.”
“Bite your tongue. All tea should have sugar in it.”
She grinned and poured two glasses of tea.
Thunder had started rumbling outside. Emma glanced at the dogs, all three of them asleep in the living room, unaffected by the gathering storm.
“They must have had an eventful day,” Emma said.
“Lots to bark at outside. Protecting the homestead, you know.”
They took their glasses outside and sat on the front porch. It was still warm, but windy, the limbs of the trees stretching back and forth, the waves of the lake kicking up powerful crests as the skies darkened further.
“I’ve always loved storms,” Emma said. “The sound of thunder, the crack of lightning, and the smell of rain. God, I love the smell of rain.”
“It’s a pain in the ass when I’m working, though. People don’t know how to drive in it.”
She looked at him. “And you have to deal with a lot of accidents.”
“Yeah. But days like today, when I’m off work, I love the rain, too. Being here where it’s quiet and all you have to deal with is nature, it’s perfect. When we were kids, my brothers and I would build forts in our rooms during thunderstorms and pretend we were mighty knights defending the castle during a siege.”
She laughed. “Obviously you all had good imaginations.”
“We had to do something. Three rambunctious boys forced inside due to weather? You can imagine the potential for destruction.”
“You could have read books.”
He cocked his head to the side and gave her a look. “Come on. I mean, books were fine later, when I was older. When we were young we wanted to be doing something, not reading about someone else doing something. Though my dad read to us. And would watch movies with us. That’s where we got the warrior and castle ideas.”
Again, not his mother. Sad. “I like that you envisioned yourselves as knights.”
“We’d use broomsticks as our swords. I gave Logan a black eye during a particularly vicious sword fight one stormy afternoon.”
She laughed. “Oops. Did you get in trouble?”
“Nah. My dad accepted that we were boys. It’s not like we were fighting—just having some fun. And Logan laughed about it.”
“You got lucky. I always got in trouble for fighting with Molly.”
“I imagine your fights weren’t physical like ours were.”
“True enough. We mostly yelled at each other, then I’d get the blame for starting it because I was the older sister, when half the time it was Molly bugging me or taking one of my toys.”
“Younger siblings can be a pain in the ass sometimes.”
“Yes. I’d try to escape from her a lot. Fortunately, during stormy days she’d crawl onto my mother’s lap. She was afraid of storms.”
“And what would you do?”
“I’d sit on the porch like this, as long as I could anyway, until the rain would drive me inside. Then I would cuddle up alone in my room with my blanket and read.”
“Oh, no. One of those bookish types.”
She laughed. “Yes. I’d sink into one of my stories and get lost in it while the world outside thundered and crashed around me. But inside I was safe and warm, with a story to keep me entertained.”
He reached over and slid a curl between his fingers. “Sounds pretty perfect to me. But you weren’t afraid of storms.”
“Never.”
“Me, either. We’d have been out playing in them if my mother hadn’t complained she’d have to do our laundry when we got muddy.”
“Little boys are supposed to get muddy.”
“That’s what I thought, too. She wasn’t much for anything that would cause extra work for her.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “It’s no big deal.”
She slid her hand in his. “But it was, wasn’t it, Luke?”
Her gaze met his and lightning arced across the sky, followed by a loud crash of thunder that drew their attention. The clouds burst, and rain came down in sheets so thick you couldn’t see. The wind whipped around them, rain lashing the porch. They grabbed their glasses and dashed inside.
“Wow, that was rather abrupt,” she said, shaking the water droplets off.
They went into the kitchen and dried off with a towel.
The rain came down hard for the first thirty minutes, then settled into a steady, light shower after that. Emma and Luke curled up on the couch in the living room to watch.
“Did you have fun water-skiing today?” he asked.
He’d picked up her legs and draped them over his lap, pulling her closer. Emma had to admit, she didn’t mind this at all. She tilted her head back to look at him. “I had a great time. Thanks for taking me.”
“Thanks for driving the boat so I could get in a little skiing.”
“I enjoyed it.”
“Oh, right. That whole control thing. We were going to discuss that.”
She arched a brow. “No, I don’t believe we were.”
“Yeah. You said you liked being in control, and then I got hard thinking about you being on top.”
She laughed. “I think this conversation played out entirely in your head.”
“Did it? Huh. So about that control thing.” He laid his glass on the table and pulled her on top of him. His hands splayed across her back, then started a slow trek south, stopping when he grabbed her butt.
Her body started up a fast rush of pleasure. She wriggled against him. “So not subtle, McCormack.”
He quirked a wickedly sexy, bad-boy grin up at her. “I wasn’t really going for subtle, Dr. Burnett.”
She palmed his chest. His body was warm, a storm raged outside, and she couldn’t think of anyplace she’d rather be than right where she was.
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