Lisa Wells - Dib

by Lisa Wells

  The driver chuckled. “Right, I’m sure it’ll work out just like you said.”

  Covey watched him lumber back to his battered truck and drive away in a cloud of dust. “Dammit. The next fantasy you weave, I want information ahead of time.”

  He walked over to the canoe and glared at the boat. There were two paddles. How was one man supposed to use two paddles? He perked up when he saw a cooler. “Lacey, I hope like hell there’s some beer in that thing.” He flipped the lid open.

  “Shit.” Covey eyed the beverage with disgust. “Cola.”

  He bent down and took off his boots and socks. He stashed them in the yellow bag. Looking at the river, and then at his jeans, he stripped out of them and his T-shirt and stuffed them in the bag with his boots and socks. His boxers, he figured, would be easier to swim in than his jeans should he end up under the canoe. His hat he left on. A man’s hat was meant to go down with the ship. Hopefully, that wouldn’t be necessary. If it was and he died, his hat floating on down the river would alert someone to his troubles. Would anyone see a black hat floating down a river at night?

  Untying the canoe, he pulled it out into the water and got in. The boat tipped wildly. “Son of a bitch.” He sat down with a bang and struggled to keep the boat upright. With a lot of effort, he managed to escape an immediate nosedive. “Dammit, Lacey. You have no idea how much you’re asking of me.”

  He picked up a paddle, sat down in the middle of the boat, and tried his hand at paddling a canoe. He found, by paddling continuously on the same side, the canoe went in a perfect circle. So, he tried one stroke on each side of the canoe. That worked better.

  Once he was in the current, he didn’t really have to paddle much at all. The quick moving water acted like a tiny motor and powered him along.

  He leaned back and relaxed. This wasn’t so bad. He had a boat between himself and the currents underneath. There was a full moon rising in the sky and a lovely young lady was waiting for him out here in the solitude. Once he found her, they’d be alone. No interruptions.

  The sound of the water, up ahead gathering speed, brought a broad smile to his face. He wasn’t in the water. Nothing to be afraid of. The quicker the water is moving, the quicker I’ll find Lacey.

  He was glad he decided to go for it. It was a beautiful evening. A good night for marathon sex with a woman built for sex. Canoeing was a cinch. What had the old man been making so much fuss about? A child could do this. It was swimming in the river that was dangerous.

  His thoughts, such as they were, didn’t prepare him for the sudden tailspin his canoe went into the minute it hit the fast moving water. He grabbed the paddle and tried to get control. No matter which side he paddled on, it was the wrong side. The boat smacked into a tree and water gushed into the canoe. Memories of being pulled under and struggling for air flashed in front of his eyes. He saw his mother running into the river to rescue him. He fought against her efforts he was so scared. She kept yelling at him to calm down. He’d accidentally kicked her in the head. He hadn’t meant too. It just happened. She let go of him and went under. He felt a shove on his back side and his feet found solid ground. She didn’t resurface. No one was there to help him. He screamed and screamed. When his dad got to him, she was gone.

  The rescue team found her tangled in the roots of a tree. Drowned because of him.

  Covey protected himself from the tree with the end of his paddle. He wasn’t going to die, tonight. His grandmother was depending on him to get married. He wouldn’t let her down. He’d done enough damage to his family. He used his paddle to push against the tree in an attempt to get his canoe back out into the center of the river.

  It was a mistake. Manhandling the canoe clearly pissed it off. It bucked hard, knocking him off the seat. Before he knew it, the canoe rolled over. He was kissing the water. He grabbed his hat and the boat. He felt water swirling around his ankles and sucking at him.

  Was he going to die? Was Lacey going to discover his demise when his empty boat floated pass her?

  God there was so much he hadn’t accomplished in life. In fact, he hadn’t accomplished anything worthwhile.

  Money? He’d made money. That was it. Who would care if he died? Other than his small family, no one cared about him. His fans would forget him. He was a loner. Nothing significant to be remembered by. Why hadn’t he had children? Why hadn’t he fallen in love and risked everything for everything?

  With a strength he didn’t know he possessed, he kicked hard. He wanted to get to know Lacey Valentine. He wanted to have children. He wanted someone besides family to care if he lived or died.

  His hand slipped and he went under. He grabbed for a paddle and pushed away from the tree roots trying to trap him. His foot became tangled in them. He couldn’t get loose. His lungs felt like they would explode.

  He was going to die. This was justice. He’d killed his mother, now he would die the same watery death. He was closing his eyes to accept his fate when he saw something shining in the water. What was it? Was it his imagination? He tried to focus. It was an image. A white light.

  Covey hold still, he heard a voice say. I’ll get your foot loose.

  Mom? Was he hallucinating? Was the ghost of his mother really speaking to him in the watery grave he was being held captive in?

  Mom, is that you?

  Yes, dear. It’s me. You’re not going to die. You’re going to live. Don’t be afraid to love, love is why we live.

  Mom, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I was scared. I didn’t mean to kick you.

  Darling, you have nothing to be sorry for. Now go and find love.

  Suddenly, his foot was free and he was floating to the top. He grabbed for the boat and held on with one arm.

  He was alive. He’d survived his worse nightmare. His mother just rescued him from drowning for the second time in his life, and she forgave him. He was forgiven.

  He floated with the canoe until the rapids were over and tried to come to grasp with what had happened while he was underwater. He felt lighter. He was no longer carrying the burden of his mother’s death on his shoulders. He had Lacey to thank.

  He pulled the canoe to a rocky bank and didn’t even swear at the rocks that tore at his bare feet until he stumped his toe on one. “Shit.”

  What happened to him tonight? He looked around. He was on an ordinary river. Nothing mystical or spiritual about it. He ran his fingers through his hair. “Damn. What in the hell am I doing on a river talking to ghosts?” He felt like an idiot. “I almost died for a woman I barely know. Dammit, Lacey. This is a stupid plan.”

  A shiver went down his spine and he twirled to see if someone was behind him. He could feel a presence, but there was nothing there.

  Go and find love. The words echoed in his ears.

  “Okay. I will.” His brothers were never going to believe this story.

  He looked at his canoe. The cooler and yellow bag were still there. A bungee cord held them in place. At least Lacey wouldn’t see them floating down the river and start worrying about him. “Lacey, when I find you, I’m going to break your beautiful neck.”

  Chapter 14

  Lacey stood on the river bank and checked her watch. According to her calculations, Covey should be floating around the bend in a couple of minutes.

  It was time to get ready for her next fantasy. She stripped out of her clothes and slipped on her bikini bottoms. Her brain screamed at her to cover up her less than perfect body. She ignored the order. Tonight, she wasn’t Lacey Valentine the Fantasy Coordinator. Tonight, she was the fantasy.

  Blatant nudity was required for the fantasy at hand. When she got back to reality, she’d return to draping a sheer nighty over her body to help camouflage her weak spots. A little material here, a little material there, and suddenly an extra five pounds weren’t noticeable.

  When she felt a nibble of doubt gnawing at her self-esteem, she stuck her chin in the air. Covey James wasn’t her Mr. Right. It didn’t matter what he thought of her b
ody. If she wanted to carry around an extra five pounds, she would.

  Dammit, who is he to criticize my body? My body’s just fine for a Mr. Wrong to look at. If he doesn’t like it, tough shit.

  She took her white bikini top and tied it to the end of a long stick. With white flag in hand, she waded out into the river and prepared to wait. The water caressed her skin like a warm bath and helped soothe away her frazzled nerves. She imagined it was Covey’s tongue lapping at her skin and shivers ran through her.

  She was ready to wave down her hero. Hopefully, her hero would arrive on time. She didn’t want her extra five pounds puckered up from water overload when he saw her.

  She heard his voice and turned. It wasn’t a relaxed, happy voice. He was cursing like a sailor.

  As soon as she saw him, she realized why he was cursing. Lacey stifled a giggle. He was floating backward and paddling like crazy. She was torn between wanting to help him and not wanting to hurt his ego. His ego won out. She stood motionless. Be invisible. Be invisible.

  Lacey knew all about men and their pride. When she worked out fantasies for couples to explore, she always made sure there was nothing in the fantasy capable of wounding the male ego. If so, they wouldn’t participate.

  When she was sure Covey had the canoe under control and pointed in the right direction, she waved her makeshift flag to get his attention.

  Covey noticed the flag first. When his eyes focused in on her, he glowered, threw down his paddle, and stood up in the boat.

  If he’d asked, Lacey could have told him standing up in a canoe was a dumb idea. He didn’t ask. Which was good. Really good. If he’d asked, she would have missed the full-length view of him. It was a view of a lifetime.

  Lacey sucked in a breath and stared with her mouth hanging open. She forgot the fantasy. She forgot her name. Covey was wearing wet boxers and a cowboy hat. A million dollars couldn’t have bought her attention away from the view.

  The boxers clung and outlined with great detail. The mangled, wet hat growled testosterone. Put him in a pair of boots and he could be her calendar pinup. Her fantasy man.

  “Wow.” The word popped out when she remembered her need to exhale the air in her lungs. She tried to get a handle on just how smashing he was. No vegetable could have possibly done him justice.

  Will I ever have sex with another man built as well as he is? Did God make more than one perfect male specimen? Thank you God. You outdid yourself with this one.

  “Why in the hell are you standing naked in the middle of a river?” he shouted angrily.

  She’d been hoping for something like, “You are the beautiful river mermaid I’ve been searching for. I will make you mine.” Reluctantly, she came out of her spiritual trance. “I’m not naked, I have on my bottoms. You’re not exactly dressed modestly yourself,” she pointed out with a wicked smile.

  He tugged at the wet material. “You look naked from where I’m standing,” he shouted back at her.

  Lacey stood on tiptoes, allowing him the sight of her bottoms. It was time to slip into her fantasy. She closed her eyes and visualized the moment. When she opened her eyes, she bit her lip and pouted prettily. “I’m stranded could you give me a lift to my camp site?” Her gaze boldly traveled south before returning to his eyes. “It’s not far from here.”

  “No.” He snapped the one syllable word so quickly Lacey blinked in surprise.

  “No?” That wasn’t the response she expected. He wasn’t really going to turn her down, was he?

  “No,” he repeated, sitting down quickly when his canoe went into another lurching turn. He managed to stop the turn before he tipped. From the look of his hat, he must have tipped several times on his way down the river. Poor baby.

  “You really shouldn’t try to stand in a canoe,” she offered, helpfully.

  His eyes found hers in the moonlight. Her knees buckled. His smoldering gaze was as seductive as any love letter she ever received. My dearest love, Your beauty in the moonlight…

  Unfortunately, his lips had the opposite effect; they were drawn in anger. She hesitated, blinking with bafflement. It was important to stay in character. “How do you do that?” she asked. She needed to calm his ruffled feathers and get him in the mood for a fantasy.

  “Do what?” he snapped.

  “Smolder sex and anger at the same time.” Lacey reached out and steadied the boat. “Have I mentioned I’m all by myself and need help?” A tingling in her heart made her feel like she’d just gone down a large mountain on snow skis.

  His brooding look traveled over her. The moonlight highlighted his convulsing Adam’s apple.

  She let go of the boat and let one hand slide down over her breast before tracing lazy circles around her belly button. His eyes locked in on the tiny jewel she’d attached there. A tremble of desire swept through her as she recalled his mouth intimately on her clit while in the limousine. Her body yearned for round two.

  His eyes were glued to her fingers, so she slipped them into the top of her bikini bottom.

  “Stop that,” he ordered.

  “Will you help me?” She fluttered her lashes flirtatiously at him.

  His boxers betrayed the effect she was having on him. The sight gave her the courage to continue the charade. “Pretty please.” Her fingers lazily stroked the skin right above her low cut bottoms.

  “Lacey,” he ground her name out between clenched teeth, “stop doing that.”

  He hadn’t yet picked up on the fact she was in full fantasy mode. She opened her eyes wide. “Oh, how did you know my name? I don’t remember telling you.” Lacey leaned forward and let her breasts touch the edge of his canoe. The cold metal made their pink tips grow hard. “Are you one of those psychics who knows things? Things like what I’m thinking?” She fluttered her eyelashes at him and delighted in the way he was looking at her. Slightly puzzled, slightly hung over.

  “I’m not playing this game with you. You almost killed me, putting me in this damn boat. I’m not in the mood for a hair-brain fantasy.”

  Lacey laughed softly. She was confident she could change his mind. “Oh, you’re kidding. Your skillful maneuvering of the canoe was amazing. I was totally, and I do mean totally, turned on watching you play around doing those dangerous turns.” She allowed one hand to touch the loosely tied bow holding her bottoms in place.

  His eyes jerked to her hand. She gave the bow a gentle tug. The bow slowly gave way. A rush of warm water caught her loosened bottoms. Lacey trembled. It was the closest thing she’d felt to an orgasm in a long time.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, his eyes fixated on the remaining bow holding her bottoms together.

  “Doing?” Lacey shrugged and slowly pulled on the remaining bow. Removing her loosened bottom, she held the white material up out of the water for him to see. “Do you mean this?” she asked, before tossing the garment into the current.

  His eyes wrenched away from her and to the bottoms disappearing down the dark river. “Are you crazy?” he snapped.

  Lacey placed her hand over her mouth. “Oops,” she said, before turning to walk toward the riverbank.

  Lacey wished the water would stay waist deep all the way to the shore. It didn’t. She reminded herself she was a vamp and it was okay to have her bottom on display. Moonlight is flattering, she told herself.

  “Where are you going?” Covey asked.

  She paused, looked back at him, and shrugged her shoulders with an air of dismissal. “I guess I’ll have to wait for the next canoe. Hopefully, it’ll have someone in it willing to help me out of this predicament.” She walked a little farther until only her ankles were in water. She turned to face him. He was frowning.

  She casually leaned forward and picked up a small pebble in the shallow water. “Did you happen to see anyone else coming this direction?” she asked, while skipping the rock over the water’s surface. “I hope someone else is coming this way. I did see some cans of cola float by earlier. Where they yours? Or, is someone e
lse coming?” She paused before adding, “I hope they’re nice.”

  “Dammit. Do you have other clothes?”

  “No, that’s all I had, everything floated down the river in my canoe.” Lacey made her bottom lip tremble. It wasn’t hard. Her whole body was trembling with need.

  Covey swore again. He hopped out of the canoe, pulled it to shore, and pointed at it. “Get in.” He tried to pull the wet material of his boxers away from his aroused body. The material went right back to clinging as soon as his hands let go.

  Lacey didn’t even try not to stare. Only a fool would give you privacy when you’re doing that. “You are so kind for giving me a lift.” And the gift of you in wet boxers. “I hope you’ll let me pay you back.” She climbed into the front of the canoe and purposely sat down where she was facing him. This was part of the fantasy. “Would you mind getting my things on the bank?”

  “Things?” He looked past her and noticed her spot on the beach. He gave her an accusing glare. “I thought all of your things floated down the river.”

  “Well, not everything. I have wine; I’ll share it with you.”

  Once her things were loaded, he pushed the canoe out into the current and sat down at the back of the boat. “How far to your camp site?”

  Lacey watched him place a paddle in the water. His biceps were worthy of a hall-of-fame award. They were bulging. Cut. His pecs looked like large upside down saucers. And he had the clichéd abs that resembled a wash board. Cliché was fine with Lacey. She took the wine out of the cooler and carefully poured them both a glass. She leaned forward to hand it to him. She did a quick peak down south before she scooted back to her spot. He wasn’t hard.

  The guy needs to relax so he’ll play fantasy land with me.

  “Cheers,” he said. He tossed it back in one gulp.

  Tilting her wine to her lips, she closed her eyes and visualized the fantasy she was setting into motion.

  It was time. Stretching her legs out, she propped them up on the middle seat. She’d visualized doing this many times in her private fantasies.