by Lia London
“We ate out of cartons with plastic forks.” She flicked the cardboard lid with her fingers.
Scooping the empty containers up into his hands, he stood. “Then what are you waiting for? Get your matching stained coat on!” He donned his jacket and grimaced. “I’m going to have to put on the stinky shoes.”
Parker grimaced. “Me, too. I won’t breathe if you don’t.”
“Deal.”
Parker couldn’t contain the giggle. Something about this man brought out a silly, teen girl buried deep inside of her. The one she’d never experienced because she’d been too ambitious and leaped into adulthood at the first available opportunity. If she remembered correctly, about the age of fourteen.
Sitting on the bench outside and stuffing her feet into her tennis shoes, she decided to sound out a new topic of conversation. “Do you ever watch the Olympics?”
“Are you about to tell me you’re a medalist in the shotput or something crazy?”
“No, but do you watch?”
“Sure. Any self-respecting person becomes a complete couch potato for three weeks while marveling at all the human body can do.”
“You know those little featurette things they do for some of the star athletes? The back-story spotlights?”
“Yeah.” He pulled Booster’s leash out of his pocket. “What about them?”
“Well, this might sound stupid,” she said, feeling vulnerable all of a sudden. “But I kind of want to direct those. Not just for the Olympics. For people all around the world who do amazing things—to shed light on their stories and inspire others.”
“What, you mean for a living?”
“I’d need to get some sample episodes shot and make a pitch to some producers. It could be a cable show or something, don’t you think?”
He shrugged. “Sounds interesting. What will your boss think?”
Parker couldn’t decipher his expression. Lowering her head, she mumbled, “I’m kind of between gigs right now.”
“Ah. I don’t suppose you’re swimming in venture capital?”
“Nope.”
“Then you have time to throw some rocks.” He held out a hand to her.
She took it, amused by the courtly gesture. His hand felt warmer and softer than she expected. “Okay, but it may be a lost cause.”
“A woman who dreams of a job like that can definitely find it in her to skip a rock three, maybe even four times, easy.” He clucked his tongue at Booster who fell into place beside him as they walked. “I think I’ll let him run free for now. Do you mind?”
“He’s your dog.”
They crossed the dirt lane and a patch of weary grass to the pebbled beach. By now, the sky had cleared enough to let the moon pour a long swath of white ripples into the water. The stillness enveloped them with peace. Only the steady tsh tsh tsh of the wavelets lapping the tiny stones broke the silence.
“It’s so beautiful.” Parker hugged herself. “Are we sure we want to ruin the serenity by throwing rocks?”
“Skipping.” He reached down and grabbed a handful of the pebbles. Sorting through them with his finger, he found one to his liking. “If we do it right, it hardly makes a sound.” He took a step forward and raised his hand to the side. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the pebble skimming through the moonlit water, leaping four times before disappearing below.
Parker gasped. Keeping her voice low so as not to disturb the night, she said, “Teach me.”
Guy found another pebble and leaned close enough for her to examine. “Start with the right rock, light and flattish.”
“Like me,” quipped Parker, watching his reaction.
Guy coughed on a laugh. “No comment.” He failed to hide a shy smile. “It’s all about angles. More horizontal, as if you’re throwing a frisbee, but flick it forward.”
She raised her arm to throw, but he caught her hand. “No, no. It’s not fast-pitch. It’s frisbee. Fairy frisbee. Soft. Don’t try too hard.”
Parker stood transfixed by the reaction her whole being had to his touch on her hand. How could something so simple electrify her and take away her breath?
She swallowed and nodded as he stepped back and gestured for her to try. Redirecting her aim, she tossed the pebble as gently as possible. “Oh, for the love of peanut butter, now I missed the water completely. Seriously, I don’t think I could be any worse at this.”
Guy’s warm chuckle stirred something in her chest. “Okay, maybe a little more power, but that’s the right motion.” He found another stone and handed it to her. “You’ve got this. I believe in you.”
Parker’s eyes darted to his for a moment. Even in the darkness, they seemed to shine. She looked at the water, hefting the tiny stone in her hand and willing her heart to stop fluttering like some crazy lady hailing a cab. Sure, he was cute and nice, but he was totally wrong for her, and she didn’t have time for a relationship even if he was right.
“Aim for the moon,” he whispered close to her ear. He pointed to where it hung over the shimmering white ripples.
The sensation of his nearness lifted her, and she felt weightless and giddy. “I’m already there.” She flicked the stone, and it tripped twice before sinking. “Oh!” She squealed and then immediately covered her mouth, shutting out the noise. Lowering her fingers, she cheered in a stage whisper, “I did it!”
“Of course. You just had to think about it first. Slow down and do it right. It’s my whole philosophy of life.”
Eager for another success, she crouched and grabbed a handful of pebbles. She poked with her finger and held up a triangular, flat stone. “This one?”
Guy squinted. “Uh-huh. Light and easy, now.”
She dropped the other pebbles and lifted her arm to throw, but before she could swing, Guy wrapped her outstretched arm in his own. “Wait.”
“Am I doing it wrong?”
“Look.” He hadn’t let go, and she could feel his body mere inches behind her.
Her breath hitched, and for a moment she scolded herself for reacting so girlishly, but then she saw why he had stopped her. There, gliding in the bright, moonlit water, two dark shadows approached. “What are they?”
“Harbor seals. A pair.”
Parker watched them bobbing, lowering her arm and feeling Guy’s follow it, still gently clasping her wrist. “Out for a late-night swim.”
“I guess some couples do skinny dip in November.”
Parker released a silent laugh and sank back into Guy’s chest before she realized it. With her heart pounding, she almost stepped away, but his other hand came to rest on her shoulder, not a full embrace, but a tender gesture. It melted her to the spot and warmed her to her core.
“It’s a sign.”
The moment proved more magical than anything Guy could have orchestrated for a first date. Even the breeze held its breath, and warmth poured in waves over him as Parker leaned back into his chest. He resisted wrapping her fully in his arms, willing to let her set the pace of anything that might happen between them, but the long-ignored hope in a corner of his mind demanded some attention. Despite his earlier clumsy display, Parker had not hurried him out the door, so he savored the simplicity of their contact and the perfection of the view.
Booster nuzzled up against his leg, but kept quiet, watching the seals with his head tilted. Normally he would have barked and scampered into the water, but somehow the dog figured out this was a quiet moment.
When the aquatic couple drifted away, Guy knew it was time to call it a night. Nothing could top the magic of such a moment, so why spoil it? Gesturing with his outstretched hand, he led Parker crunching across the pebbles and back up to the cabin.
“Is it like this every night?” Parker’s husky whisper stirred up something in his veins. Could she hear his pulse racing?
“Never quite like this,” he admitted, daring to stand a little closer. “The harbor seals are regulars, but I think this moonlit ballroom dance might have been an audition to impress a certain Holly
wood director.”
“They get the part.”
“Good.”
“Are you their agent?” Was there a flirtatious gleam in her eye?
“I confess I stand to benefit if you decide they are worth watching again.”
She raised both eyebrows. “Because you can arrange for it to happen again?”
“I’ll do what I can.”
They reached the door and stood beneath the porch light in comfortable silence. With his senses on high alert, he could smell her shampoo and feel the weight of her studious gaze. Her eyes shone with an expression he couldn’t identify, but wanted to memorize because it sent shimmering waves of excitement through him.
“Thank you, for everything. That was … perfect.”
He dipped his head with a soft smile, his eyes never leaving hers. “It was my pleasure.”
“Poopy shoes and all?” Her smile was both playful and shy.
“Poopy shoes especially.” Her lips beckoned, and he inched nearer before catching himself. What was he thinking? He didn’t want to ruin a perfect night with an awkward, uninvited kiss. With a reluctant step back, he smiled. “I had a very nice time.”
Parker opened the cabin door and sighed. “Goodnight, Guy.”
“Goodnight, Parker.”
She bit her lower lip as she closed the door behind her, and he had to resist letting his whole body topple after her like a cartoon in a trance.
“Let’s go, Boo.”
As he drove up the steep, gravel driveway, he mused that if they hadn’t both stepped in Booster doodle, their evening together would not have ended so well. Sometimes little disasters turned into something beautiful.
“Thanks, Booster. I owe you big time, buddy.”
Booster gave a comical whimper and dropped his mouth open to pant.
“I know exactly how you feel, Boo. Isn’t it great?”
Disaster #6~Stupid Fears
Parker awoke in an inexplicably good mood. Still snuggled under the covers, she chuckled at the memory of Guy bonking his head repeatedly. She relived his confession about stepping in dog poop. Forgetting to breathe for a moment, she could almost feel the warmth of his body as they’d watched seals. Delicious. Only if he had kissed her could it have been a more perfect evening.
She stretched and kicked off the covers, dropping her feet to the floor. Her eyes fell on his tool box, left behind when they went out to skip rocks.
With a jolt of horror, she realized she didn’t have Guy’s phone number. She had no way of contacting him other than driving around and hoping to bump into him.
“Gaaah! For the love of acne cream, I’ve turned into a teenager again. What is wrong with me?” Even as she said it, a foreign feeling of happiness bubbled inside her, and she sighed. “Nothing much wrong with Guy.” A doubt nudged her ribs. “Except he doesn’t have a real job and he lives out here in the middle of nowhere.”
She frowned at the thought, feeling the morning chill bite her back into reality. Better not to get emotionally attached. Her life, until she found a producer to sponsor her efforts, required the big-city rat race.
She showered and dressed, breakfasting on a granola bar before deciding to head out to the beach. The overcast skies hid the low sun, but the cows in the field behind the cabin mooed musically. Without a breeze, the temperature felt warmer than the last two days. Somehow, she didn’t mind the cold as much as she’d thought she might. The air was too fresh and the sounds too gentle for her to miss the smog and bustling chaos of L.A.
Dropping down into the wooden deck chair, she scraped her shoe back and forth across the pebbles, searching for a smooth, flat one. “What the—” She shifted to identify the lump. The soggy remains of her paperback peeled off to stick to her rear. “Oh, for the love of …” She picked up the mess gingerly, but the ink from the cover bled onto her hands. “Ew, gross!” She twisted to see if her jeans had ink stains, too, circling a few steps before giving up. “So, this is why dogs chase their tails. To see if they sat in something.”
She turned to head back to the dumpster, but a movement on the water caught her eye. Hoping to see more harbor seals, she dropped the pile of wet papers under the chair and walked up to the water’s edge. “What kind of an idiot goes kayaking in November?” She peered out at the lone kayak as it ventured closer to shore after rounding a rocky outcropping to her right. “No. Way.” She walked in the direction of the rower. “Guy Fox, is that you?” she called through cupped hands.
The rower lifted his double oar and wagged it up and down.
Parker hovered between alarm and elation. “Are you crazy?” She stood with her hands on her hips, shaking her head in disbelief. The kayak came close enough to hear the soft splash of the paddles, and at last she could make out Guy’s face. “You are crazy. It must be freezing in that water!”
“I don’t plan to fall in.” Guy rested the oar across his lap as the two-man kayak crunched to shore. “Good morning,” he said cheerfully.
She hugged herself against the pleasure of his unexpected arrival. “Good morning. Do you always start the day rowing?”
“No. Usually, I run with Booster.”
She pointed to the vacant spot in the tandem kayak. “Did he fall in?”
“No, no. I had another reason for choosing the kayak this morning.”
“Uh huh? I’m all ears,” she said with a sing-song voice. “This ought to be proof you hit your head too many times yesterday.”
“Would I sound extra forward if I say I forgot to get your phone number?”
Parker’s breath hitched. Was her luck changing? She couldn’t resist needling him. “And kayaked instead of drove?”
“I figured it would give me time to change my mind if I chickened out.”
She felt her cheek tug upward. “But you didn’t chicken out.”
Tapping his head, he said. “Goose eggs. I’m a silly goose, not a chicken, I guess.”
Parker breathed out a laugh. Maybe his humor wasn’t so bad, after all. “Honk honk.” Waving him ashore, she grinned. “Come on up. I’ll give it to you.”
As he maneuvered himself out of the kayak, she turned to retrieve the soggy paperback.
“Wow, what happened to your butt?” asked Guy with a chuckle.
Embarrassed, Parker stood and spun to hide her bottom. Then she laughed at herself and held up the book. “A mystery.”
“Literally?”
“Uh-huh.” She signaled for him to follow. “I have to throw this away.”
He fell into step beside her as she walked up to the dumpster, and she stole a few sideways glimpses to assess his attire, a form-fitting wetsuit on top and jeans. Not scrawny, she thought, chewing back a smile.
“I kind of hoped you’d come out on the water with me.”
“Are you kidding?” She lifted the lid of the dumpster and dropped the slushy book in. “I’ll die of hypothermia if I fall in.”
“I won’t let you fall in. And we’ll stay close to the shore.”
“I don’t own a wetsuit,” she protested. “And what’s up with yours? It’s only on the top?”
“No, it goes down to the knees, but the jeans are so I don’t scare you with the blinding glare of my white legs.”
Parker cackled, and then covered her mouth. “Thanks for sparing me, but I do not—and I mean do not—want to fall in the water. I’d seriously die.”
He tilted his head to one side and seemed to study her. “Is it the cold, or are you not a strong swimmer?”
Parker blushed. “Yes.”
“Both?”
Exasperated, she waved her hands in the air. “Yes, I’m the only California girl who never learned to swim.”
Guy nodded as if this explained everything. “Not to worry. I have a life jacket and, as I said, we’ll stay close to the shore.”
“But if it tips over, don’t we get trapped under the boat?” She shivered at the thought.
His lips pulled into a sympathetic smile. “It won’t tip,
but if you’re honestly scared about it, we won’t go.”
Parker flashed him an appreciative grimace. “Maybe later this week, if I work up the nerve? And later in the day, when it’s a little warmer.”
“Deal. Just tell me when.”
“I’ll need your phone number,” she said, pulling her phone out of her back pocket. “Are you hiding a phone somewhere in your suit?”
Guy unzipped his wetsuit part way and slid his hand in to retrieve his phone from an inner pocket. “What you surely assumed were my rock-hard, lop-sided pecs was only a smart phone.”
“You’re not that pasty white.”
“You are kind to say so, but soaking in the sun for cosmetic purposes isn’t one of the luxuries offered here on Orcas.” He readied his phone. “Okay, Ms. Parker. Area code, please?”
They exchanged phone numbers and then stood smiling awkwardly at each other.
“So …” said Parker.
“So.”
“Any chance we can do something else instead of kayaking?”
“I could probably snag us a Cessna this afternoon.”
“You mean a plane?” Parker almost gulped. “Do you have something against being on land?”
Guy ran both hands through his hair. “I thought I’d impress you with my piloting skills.”
She poked his belly, and his hand dropped down to cover the spot, brushing her fingers for a second. “You don’t have to impress, remember?” she chided. “You’re the one who said to just be.”
He relaxed. “Right.”
“So …” she repeated.
“So, I have a repair and installation job at eleven.”
Parker folded her arms and gave him a smug look. “It might be tricky without your tools, you know.”
“My—did I leave those here last night?”
“Mm-hmmm,” she sang. “I have something to barter with now.”
