Dirty Summer 3

by Violet Paige

  “Reid, what you said in the kitchen—” Maggie sputtered.

  “Just come on.” He pulled her down on him. “You gonna look at the stars with me or not?”

  He brushed the hair away from her neck and situated her bottom in the tiny space to his left, propped her head on his chest, and covered her bare arms with his.

  “Now where did we leave off last night?’’ he said. “Ah, the Big Dipper. Just over there,’’ he said, pointing across the sound.

  Maggie was flabbergasted and electrified. After she made a fool of herself in the kitchen and he flat out turned her down, their legs were entwined, and he was rubbing his hands up and down her arms.

  “I have to ask. What’s going on?” She didn’t know what to say.

  His hands encircled her waist before moving to her shoulders. She quickly was catching on fire.

  “Maggie, you are so dangerous,’’ he murmured in her ear as he shifted her weight toward him. “Just watching you dance …”

  Before Maggie knew what was happening, she was lying on his stomach, staring directly into Reid’s eyes.

  “I can’t take it anymore.’’ A mix of anger and frustration filled his voice.

  Before Maggie knew what hit her, his lips claimed hers. She felt her mouth open and his tongue started a slow, rhythmic dance with hers. Her whole body came alive as her hands moved down his neck to his shoulders and chest. Somewhere deep inside, she heard a moan. His mouth now was on her neck.

  “Oh,’’ she exhaled, moving her hands inside his shirt.

  “Maggie, don’t stop,’’ he whispered as she flicked her tongue in his ear and slid it along his neck.

  Despite the fact that she’d had too many glasses of wine, that a roomful of people were in sight, and that this man had all but rejected her once not long ago, this felt right. She didn’t usually throw herself at a man like this, and she surely didn’t make out in clear view of twenty people, but they couldn’t see her in the dark, could they? She let go of the thoughts.

  Reid rubbed her neck, kissing her urgently. He groaned, clasped his arms around her, and shifted his weight. They tumbled out of the hammock and met the ground in a twisted pile.

  “These damn things,’’ he growled.

  “Can’t see too many of the stars down here.’’ Maggie laughed. “But who needs the stars?’’

  He rolled on top of her, kissing her neck and ear. His hand slid up her smooth legs, creeping under her flimsy dress.

  “Damn,’’ he breathed, toying with the silk fabric beneath her dress. He was slowly dragging them down her thighs.

  Maggie, lost in the sensation, thought she would melt. If he didn’t stop, she would lose it, but her body craved every touch he gave.

  “Where did they go?’’ Blair’s voice traveled through the night air. “Maybe we should cruise without them?”

  “I don’t see ‘em,’’ Justyn offered, walking closer. “But they’ve got to be nearby. Reid said he was going out to get a beer.”

  Maggie froze. Blair and Justyn were less than ten feet away. She was on the ground with her dress hiked above her waist and her silk panties in a most embarrassing position. Maggie clutched Reid’s shirt and shot him a look of panic.

  “I’ll take care of this,’’ he whispered in her ear. He rolled off her and stood. “Cuz, Blair, what’s going on?’’

  Maggie couldn’t believe what was happening. Surely, Justyn and Blair could see her on the ground, curled up like a complete idiot. She felt herself blush in the dark, as she repositioned her clothes.

  “What’cha doing out here, man?’’ Justyn said as Reid walked toward the house. “Blair’s trying to convince me to take her on another cruise. I didn’t want to leave you and Maggie behind if you’d like to go.”

  “I was taking a turn in the hammock,’’ Reid said, walking Justyn and Blair away from the swing and toward Justyn’s monstrous white truck.

  “Where is Maggie?’’ Blair’s voice sounded farther away now. “I thought she might be with you. Judging by the last time I saw her, I’m not sure if she’d be up for bouncing around in a boat, but Justyn didn’t want to break up the foursome.’’

  “I saw her heading to the pier when I came out,’’ Reid said. “I think there’s a group down there. If y’all want to go cruise, I’ll make sure she gets home safely.’’

  “Sure you will.’’ Justyn slapped his cousin on the back. “I guess that’s what Blair’s afraid of.’’

  “She’s in good hands,” Reid said to Blair. “Now, y’all go have a good time.’’

  Maggie was astounded with the last ten minutes. She pulled herself to her feet and brushed the dirt from her knees. Justyn, Blair, and Reid had disappeared around the corner of the house. Maggie turned toward the water and felt the salty wind tickle her face. She headed to the pier, where she was supposed to have been all along.

  Seven

  Maggie

  Maggie hugged her knees to her chest and peered across the dark sound. She could see a few faint lights on sailboats anchored afar in what the night disguised as a vast distance. She realized that, in the daylight, the boats really were just a few miles away. She squeezed her eyes shut, and at the same time, tried to block out the last few minutes of her life. Reid’s kisses had been enough to set her on fire for days. She absently ran her forefinger across her swollen lips, shuddering with embarrassment that they’d almost been caught. At the same time, an anxious feeling began to form in the pit of her stomach when she thought of what might have happened if Justyn and Blair hadn’t walked up.

  She rocked back, laid her body on the wooden pier, and looked up at the stars again.

  “Who needs you, stupid twinkly stars, anyway?’’ she said under her breath.

  “I do. Every day of my life, sweetheart,’’ Reid called into the darkness.

  Maggie felt soft vibrations through the rickety old wood as Reid made his way to the end of the dock. He lounged beside her, staring up at the island night.

  “I took care of everything back there,’’ he said. “Don’t think they suspected a thing.’’

  Reid shifted, took her in his arms, and propped her head against his chest. They were just as they had been a few minutes ago in the hammock. She started to protest, but instead took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and drank in his smell of mint shaving cream, wood shavings, and salt. It felt so comfortable, and right to be engulfed in these strong arms.

  “Maggie, you ok?’’ Reid asked, stroking her hair.

  “Mmm,’’ was all she could offer. Somehow, the words wouldn’t form. Just don’t let go of me, Maggie thought as the stars blurred, and her world tilted on its axis.

  Between the place of wake and sleep, where dreams seem more real and bizarre, Maggie struggled with something that made her face itch. It was sticky and sweaty, and there was an annoying ache in her neck. Was the thing that made her itch also making her hurt? Slowly, she fought off the heaviness of sleep and opened her eyes to a dewy, gray morning. Oh! She glanced up as the memories of last night hit her like the ocean’s waves against the shore. The sharp pain in her temple began to throb.

  In spite of her mounting headache and the cramp in her neck, she smiled. Reid was peacefully sleeping under her. She remembered kissing him on the ground under the hammock when Blair and Justyn walked by. Looking back, Maggie realized she was drunker than she thought.

  She shook her head and removed herself from Reid’s embrace. It was too early to think deep thoughts. It must not even be six yet. The sun was barely peeking over the banks, and the first shrimpers were trawling the channel. It would have been a beautiful sight to savor if her head didn’t hurt so badly. Visions of the comfortable sleigh bed and soft down quilt back in her room filled her thoughts. If she could get a few more hours of real sleep, maybe she could sort through last night. Why do guys have to be so complicated?

  “Reid,’’ she whispered. “Reid.’’ She shook his right shoulder. “Reid, wake up.’’

  He mu
mbled and let out a breath, but didn’t open his eyes.

  Maggie put her lips to his cheek then said in his ear, “Reid, wake up. We need to go home.’’

  “Huh? What? It’s not time to fish,’’ he mumbled. Then opened his eyes and jumped.

  “Maggie?” he said and began to sit up. “Oh, I guess I dosed off looking at the stars. Sorry, must have been the beer.’’ He looked across the sound, squinting at the first light of another summer day on the island. “We slept longer than I bargained for.’’

  “My neck is killing me, and I feel the beginnings of a hangover. Too much wine and too many margaritas.’’ Maggie massaged her temples.

  “Let’s get you home. Come on,’’ he said, getting up and stretching his arms behind his back.

  Maggie stood and searched for her flip-flops. Slow motion is good; don’t move too fast. She slid her feet into her shoes and followed Reid off the dock. When she reached the end of the pier, Reid grabbed both of her hands to steady her down the two rickety steps. Hand in hand, they made their way through Shirley and Henry’s front yard to his Jeep.

  Eight

  Maggie

  Maggie couldn’t sleep. She had been tossing and turning for the last hour, and trying without success to find rest again. It felt like those early mornings in college on test days when she would wake before dawn and not be able to shut off her mind, running facts and possible questions repeatedly. Or when she knew she had an important deadline looming. She would meticulously review every element of her project, each photo, graphic, and detail, and sleep would always elude her in those wee hours before the day began. However, this time, it wasn’t deadlines or multiple-choice questions that left her restless. It was him.

  It had been a week since Reid had told her he didn’t have time for her and only wanted to be friends. Then, moments later, he had initiated the most intense make-out session Maggie had ever experienced. He had started the whole thing, and if Justyn hadn’t walked up, who knew how far it would have gone.

  With a groan, she threw the duvet off and sprang out of bed. Maggie knew she would not be able to fall back asleep now, and she had to clear her mind from all these thoughts about Reid so she might as well check out the early morning island sights. She walked over to the balcony, and she was struck with how serene the sound looked in the predawn light. In fact, she was sure she had never seen the water this calm in all her days on Harkers Island. This must be what the old timers referred to as “slick as glass.” It looked more like a lake than a moving body of water. Oh hell. I might as well go out instead of standing up here.

  The air was still a tad chilly, so she grabbed the lightweight white cardigan that was draped over the chair in her bedroom. She pulled it over her blue cotton sleep tank and adjusted her boxer shorts as she quietly padded downstairs.

  Jutting about thirty yards out into the sound, the Buttonses’ pier was one of the longer ones on the east end of the island. Just about every fall, a hurricane or tropical storm would take out all the piers, and the homeowners would rebuild. After investing so much money each year, most people eventually decided to craft smaller piers that would be less susceptible to the wind and rain damage. However, Maggie remembered Mrs. Buttons telling her that the pier was important to her son and his wife. The pier had a small gazebo near the end and still extended about four feet beyond, ending with a small floating dock that was two steps down from the rest of the structure. It included cleats for tying up boats and was lined with a haphazard collection of shells the Buttons family, as well as Maggie and Blair, had left in a pile on one corner.

  Maggie lowered herself onto the floating dock and thought, not for the first time, how glad she was that Daniel and Sally Buttons and placed such a high priority on their pier. She looked out and felt like she was sitting squarely in the middle of the sound. Just then, she noticed how high the tide was. The water quietly lapped against the floating dock, rocking it. Maggie hugged her arms around her bent knees and looked out toward the cape and the lighthouse.

  Saturday morning was dawning all around her. It would be another hot day, and in a few hours, boats would be whizzing by, carrying tourists and locals on their way to spend a day of fun on the banks. For now, all was quiet and eerily calm.

  Maggie drifted to her earlier thoughts about Reid. She hadn’t seen him alone since last week when he’d dropped her off. She and Blair had discussed and analyzed the hammock encounter. They decided that he was definitely attracted to Maggie, but for whatever reason, he assumed she wanted a relationship.

  It was Maggie’s plan to squash that thought the next time she got him alone. She wanted a fun summer fling. Blair had given her the pep talk, and she was ready to explain her no entanglements idea, but so far, she had not been presented with the chance. Either Reid was always with Justyn, or running in the other direction. It had Maggie wondering if he was just drunk that night in the hammock. She shook her head again.

  Maggie picked up one of the shells that had been lying on the dock and skipped it across the glassy water. One. Two. Three. Four. Pretty good, she thought as she turned her gaze right to follow the shell’s path.

  That was when she noticed a tan upper body breaking the surface of the slick water. Reid was about twenty-five feet away and doing the breaststroke as he steadily swam parallel to the shore toward the Buttonses’ pier. Maggie sucked in her breath and felt her heart skip a beat at the exact same moment her belly tightened with those darn dancing butterflies. His shoulders glistened with salt water running off, and Maggie was entranced by the way his shoulder and lateral muscles were working together in such harmony. He switched to the freestyle stroke, arching one arm over his head, followed by another.

  On impulse, she picked up another shell, which was part of the collection she had left on the dock a couple days ago, and skipped it in the direction Reid was swimming.

  One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Plunk! The splash landed a few inches from his face, but he didn’t seem to notice. He dipped a muscular arm in the water once again, and closed in on the dock. She had him in her sights. She aimed the third shell so that, if it skipped a perfect six times, it would cross in front of him. Here goes, she thought, casting her arm over her shoulder. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Skip—plunk! The shell danced over the water’s surface, crossing Reid’s path and plopping in the water above his head.

  He stopped mid-stroke and looked up.

  “What the—?” He looked around.

  Maggie could no longer suppress the giggles she’d been holding in, and her whole body shook as she laughed at the startled swimmer.

  Don’t miss episode 4 of Dirty Summer!

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