by Mj Fields
When I do, I stand in awe and smile. “Twenty feet from my toes.”
He rests his chin on top of my head, and I think of how calm I feel, which makes me laugh, because calm is not a word I would use to describe myself.
“What’s so funny?” he asks, turning me to face him.
“I feel calm.” I shrug.
He waits for a further explanation.
“I wouldn’t exactly say that in my … natural habitat, I would describe myself as calm.”
He gives me a sexy grin. “So, you on your knees, taking what you want, that’s more you?”
“Well, maybe not on my knees, no. But yes, I’ve worked hard to—”
He covers my mouth with his finger. “Just graduating college.”
“You’re taking this game seriously?”
“I want to know who you are.” He touches my chest just below the surface of my heartbeat.
I look past him, trying to remember, but then I see the garage I first saw when we pulled in. It’s not a garage; it’s a home.
“This place is amazing,” I say, side-stepping him to get a better view.
From here, there is no sign it’s a garage. In fact, it looks like a carriage house, with an outdoor … everything.
“Uh, yes, it’s something I’ve been working on for years.” He turns around, too.
I nudge him gently. “If I have to pretend I just graduated college, so do you.”
He looks at me, but I can’t see his eyes. He nods and swallows hard. “The house we passed was a place I visited for five summers before I entered college. The woman who owns it, Maisie Worthington, took part of a program called Fresh Air Kids.”
“Worthington Resorts? She owns the property?”
“Her family did. She inherited it.”
“So, were you …?” I stop, because I’m not sure what information we are and are not divulging.
He grips my hand as we walk toward the most beautiful, peaceful, relaxing place I have ever seen.
“My mother died when I was five. I lived with my maternal grandmother until she died when I was eight, then foster care. Lots of different homes, not all good ones, but I learned a lot from each situation. When I was about eleven, I started coming here for the summer. Fell in love with Maisie.”
“So, you and she …”
He throws his head back and laughs. “She’s in her seventies. I like my women a little older, but not that much older.”
I sigh out my relief, and he tries to stop laughing.
“I didn’t know if she was a daughter of the family who you stayed with or what … smart ass.”
He nods, silently chuckling as we walk onto the brick patio surrounded by plants, flowers, a pool, and spa.
“She was more a mother to me than any others I lived with. She also, wasn’t pomp and circumstance like the other moneybags that tried to do ‘good’ as show. She genuinely gave a fuck.” He pauses, then begins again, “After high school, I worked a while, and she sold me this place. Was an old carriage house. I added the front and tore up the old pool. I had to promise to put one in and let the kids come swim and shit. I did argue that there was a pretty big place to swim right there. She reminded me it’s intimidating to some, and she was hell-bent on teaching ‘her kids’ to swim while they were here with her.”
“She sounds amazing.”
“She is. Then she told me to get my ass to college. So, I did that, too.”
“What was your major?”
He smiles. “Business. I have my MBA, which is a total fucking waste when all I really wanna be is a beach bum.”
“I can see why.” I walk up and dip my toe in the pool.
He pushes me, and I squeal. He laughs and pulls me back.
“So, Bridge, tell me your story.”
“Grew up in the south, a trailer park. No dad, a mom who tried her best but liked to drink a little too much, so keeping a job … well, you know. Food stamps, government assistance …”
He pushes my hair back and looks in my eyes. His are full of care and concern. “Tell me how you made it out.”
“I was the Valedictorian in my class.” I try to hide the pride in my voice, but his smile encourages it. “I received a full scholarship to NYU.”
“Smart and beautiful.” He looks up at the sky. “I have impeccable taste.”
When he looks down, I feel my face flush. I try to hide it from him, but he lifts my chin.
“You should be proud of yourself.”
I wrap my arms around him and hug him. “Thank you.”
No one has ever told me that, not one person who should have. He didn’t have to say it, yet he did. And not only did he say it, I felt the truth in it.
He steps back and takes both my hands in his. “Did you date a lot in high school?”
I shake my head.
“In college?”
I hold up one finger.
His eyes widen a bit. “Did you marry—”
“You’re breaking the rules,” I warn,
He laughs. “You’re right.”
“Did you date a lot in high school?”
“No, I moved a lot,” he answers, looking toward the mansion next door.
“College?”
He looks back at me and narrows his eyes. “I fucked a lot, but date, no.”
My mouth forms a silent O.
He shrugs. “I was kind of an angry dick.”
He studies me, and I smile and force a laugh, but deep down, it kind of bothers me, and I don’t like that feeling.
I see his brow raise, and with it, a smirk plays on his pillow-soft lips.
I pull my sunglasses down, and he laughs at me. It’s playful, cute even, but still, he’s laughing at me.
“Do you have your phone?”
“It’s on the table. Why?”
I take the opportunity to push him into the pool, and as he falls, he lets out a hearty laugh.
I hurry over toward the accordion doors as he swims from the far end to the stairs. When he stands, I’m reminded of last night and how sexy he looked pacing back and forth, waiting for my reply.
His white polo shirt clings to his body, and now I’m not just jealous of the college girls he angry fucked, I’m jealous of the shirt clinging to his beautiful body. I’m jealous of the brown shorts weighed down by water, hanging low on his narrow hips. When he puts the sunglasses that are in his hand on top of his wet hair, I’m jealous of them, too.
“What are you looking at?” he asks, reaching behind him and tugging the drenched shirt over his head in the sexiest move I have ever seen in person.
“The most stunning man I have ever laid eyes on,” I admit.
His steps slow as he searches my eyes.
“It’s true, Joe. There is nothing average about you.”
Admitting this to him should make me feel like I’m giving him an advantage, letting him know just how attracted to him I am, but the shy smile that seems to rise up makes me think he hasn’t heard it enough. It’s the very least I can do—tell him how he makes me feel—because he holds nothing back when he tells me I’m beautiful.
Every other man who tells me that is after one thing. He’s not after it. He’s already gotten it. And the confidence in his eyes tells me he knows damn well he can take it now if he wants it, and there is no way I would tell him no.
I hear the sound of a boat passing by, and he looks back. I look past him and see it’s not passing by; it’s docking.
“You’re lucky I’m not tossing you in the pool.” He walks up and offers me his hand. “You’ve been saved by the boat.”
“Company?” I ask, a bit concerned.
“No, beauty. This is the first part of the adventures I have planned for us today.” He pulls me behind him as he walks into the house.
I take in the gray wooden floors, the open floor plan. The space is at least a thousand square feet with an amazing chef’s kitchen with gray stainless-steel appliances and an island separating it from the living room.
I also spot three doors and a stairway.
“Your bags should be upstairs, loft side on the right. Go put on the suit and bring the wrap I bought, and please hurry. I have a lot planned for us today.” He grabs my face and kisses me hard then whispers. “You deserved dates, Bridge. So did I.”
I feel ridiculous in the tiny black bikini as I walk down the stairs … until I see appreciation in his eyes. He whistles at me as he watches me descend. And now, now I feel sexy.
I whistle back. Or, try to. I mean, how does one whistle when they are grinning like the Cheshire cat?
He’s standing shirtless at the bottom of the stairs, wearing black board shorts, black flip flops on his feet, and sunglasses on his head.
As soon as I near him, he places his hands on my hips, and I feel shoes hit my bare ass cheek.
“Do you feel as sexy as you look?” He tightens his grip.
I look down at the exposed scar above my pubic bone. “I guess.”
He keels before me and kisses my hip, then the other. Then he drags his tongue across the scar.
“I like this.” He presses his lips against it and, for a moment, I wonder what it would have been like to have a man like him during my pregnancy, a pregnancy in which my ex and I had sex four times because he just didn’t like it.
I remember telling him she wouldn’t feel it, thinking that was the issue. He told me he would.
“Beauty?”
I look down at him, still on his knees. “Thank you.” I cup his stubbled cheek. “I’m quite fond of the reasoning behind the scar.”
“Small canal?” He smiles.
I can’t help laughing. “Yeah.”
He stands up and takes my hand. “I’m seconds from being full mast and taking you right here.”
“I wouldn’t complain,” I say as he laughs and drags me out the door.
After he closes it, he kneels down and sets a pair of black, strappy sandals on the vinyl decking. “Will the shoe fit?”
“God, I hope so.”
I put one foot into the sandal, and then the other. “They’re perfect.”
He stands up. “You’re pretty fucking perfect yourself.”
“So are you.” I push up on my toes and kiss him. “I’m so excited about this date.”
“If the shoes brought on a kiss, the rest of the day is going to go even better than anticipated.”
When he grabs my ass, he slides his finger under the very thin strap of material covering my ass, rubbing the most sensitive parts of me.
I let myself be present and tell him, “I can’t wait.”
Chapter Six
Walking hand in hand down the dock toward the boat, I feel like I imagine I would have if I had dated the nicest boy in school, who was also hot. But, back when I was in high school, I wouldn’t have even looked in his direction.
He squeezes my hand when we get to the end of the dock. “You ready?”
I have waited a lifetime for this moment, is what I want to say. Instead, I nod, and then he escorts me onto a white and red boat.
He nods to the captain, and the captain nods back. Then he grabs two life vests and puts one over my head and straps me in. When his hand brushes against my breast, it immediately pebbles. I can’t see his eyes behind his aviator sunglasses, but when he smirks and bites the corner of his lip, I know he noticed.
After he tightens it, he pulls me closer and whispers low enough that the captain doesn’t hear, “Are you trying to get me hard?”
“I … um …”
He laughs and turns me toward a cushioned bench. “Have a seat.”
As I sit down, I watch him put on his vest, and then he walks toward the captain as the boat begins to pull away from the dock. I can’t hear what they are saying, but I don’t feel odd about it. I’m enjoying the view.
When he walks back to me, he pulls off my sunglasses, and I shield my eyes to look up at him as the boat slows down.
He rubs my bracelet then pulls me up. “You present?”
I nod. “And accounted for.”
He chuckles. “You might want to take that off. Wouldn’t want you to lose it in the water.”
“We’re going swimming?”
When the boat stops, I see the captain walk back and open one of the benches.
Joe redirects my attention back to him. “You adventurous?”
“Why? Are there sharks?” I ask, trying to stow my nerves.
“It’s the ocean, Bridge.” He smiles a blinding smile. “But we’ll be safe. I promise.”
“Okay, because someday in the future, of course, I plan to be a mom, and moms tend to be cautious,” I say, playing along with our recent college graduate charade while making sure he knows that I am, in fact, safety conscious.
He holds up three fingers like a boy scout. “I promise I will not put your future childrens,” he leans in and whispers, “or present”—he leans back—“mother in harm’s way.”
“Then yes.” I smile. “I’m super adventurous.”
“All set back here?” the captain yells back to us.
“We sure are.” Joe leans forward and kisses me.
“So ready.” I smile against his lips.
For the next five minutes, I am unable to speak, because I am absolutely terrified.
I step into what reminds me of a toddler swing and am strapped into a seat next to Joe. Well, I think he’s the one next to me. I can’t even look at him, too afraid I will cry.
I hear some of what the captain is telling me. Things like, “five hundred feet in the air,” “new rope, so no worries,” “it won’t break,” and “we haven’t lost one yet.”
Does he actually think that’s funny!
“Any questions?” he asks.
I manage to shake my head once.
“Wet or dry ride?” he asks Joe.
I hear Joe chuckle. “We’ll get our feet wet, but the rest, we can handle.”
Oh. My. God.
I want to kill him. Maybe he wants to kill me. Oh, for God sake, what am I doing?
When he turns my head toward him, I know by the reaction on his face that I’m glaring. He laughs again, and I look away.
“Say I’m a pussy and I’ll make him stop.”
I narrow my eyes further.
“Pussy,” he jokes.
If I wasn’t about to possibly die, it may be funny.
It’s not.
He gives the captain a thumbs-up.
I look over my shoulder at the rainbow of colors flying behind us as we lift off the boat and into the sky. Then I close my eyes.
“Pussy!” I scream, and he laughs loudly, adorably, yet annoyingly.
I feel like Natasha must have every time I had to talk her into doing something out of her comfort zone that I knew she would love.
He tangles his ankle around mine, my anchor, and I open my eyes.
His dark chocolate eyes are sparkling, laughing, and so is he. The sun glows behind him, giving him an angelic look. His laugh is fast becoming one of my favorite sounds in the world.
“It’s not funny. This is my first time.”
“Mine, too.” He laughs.
“What!” I grip the straps tighter, suddenly more terrified that I’m not about to be five hundred feet in the air with someone who has at least experienced this before. “You’re joking! Say you’re joking!”
“If I did it would be a lie, Bridge. We’re para-virgins and, unlike our first times, it’s actually fun if you let go.”
“Oh, my God! You’re crazy!”
He nods. “Yeah, crazy about you.”
I must look shocked by what he just said because he laughs.
“Don’t act like you don’t know this already, Bridge. Look around, beauty. Be present. It’s fucking gorgeous up here.”
I take a deep breath and look down. “Fuck no.”
He laughs from his belly.
“It’s not funny!” I scream while laughing.
“I said look around, not down.”
&nb
sp; Before I throw up, I look around and not down. He’s not wrong. It’s beautiful.
I glance over at him, and he gives me a sweet smile. I nod and admit, “It’s beautiful.”
He grins like he just won a prize at a carnival game. Then he laughs.
“What now?” I laugh, too.
“Had to bribe you to say cock, scare you to say pussy, but fuck pops out of your mouth like a redneck, southern girl.”
“That’s because I am.” I laugh.
“I kind of like that, you know.” He winks.
“Well, good, because I can’t promise it won’t happen again in the next …” I pause. “How long does this thing last?”
“We have it for the afternoon.”
“Fuck!” I yell again, and he laughs even harder.
We stare at each other long enough that it becomes intense to the point that, if we weren’t strapped into these things, I know he would be inside me by now.
I look away first.
A few moments later, he pulls at my ankle with his. “I wish you’d look down and see what I’m looking at right now.”
“I’m doing good looking up. I finally don’t feel like I’m going to vomit,” I tell him honestly.
“I promised you I wouldn’t let anything happen to you, beauty. Trust me.” The tone in his voice is beseeching.
I take a deep breath and start to look down, when he tugs at our entwined ankles and says, “Look at me.”
I cast my eyes to his. His soft smile relaxes me slightly.
“There you are.”
I sigh out, “Here I am.”
“When you feel like it, look down and to your left. Two dolphins are swimming with us.”
I look down and see them. I smile as I watch them.
“They look like they’re on a date, huh?”
“The three of them?”
He leans forward. “Must be a chaperone.”
I laugh.
“I bet they wish the fucker would go away.”
I shake my head, trying not to laugh. I happen to know too much about dolphins.
He kicks our entwined legs up a little and laughs. “Well, shit, they’re never gonna be alone. There’re five of them, Bridge.”
I begin laughing hard, and he looks at me, really looks at me. I laugh harder and try to cover my mouth, but then I begin to fall.
