Fall in Love Book Bundle: Small Town Romance Box Set

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Fall in Love Book Bundle: Small Town Romance Box Set Page 294

by Grover Swank, Denise


  I swallowed at the heat of him, the tanned, toned muscles of his back already glistening with water from when he jumped in the water before climbing onboard. His hair was a little longer than when I first met him, the ends of it dripping water down his neck, and I watched those little droplets of water with something similar to envy as I wrapped my hands around his middle, scooting a little closer.

  “You ready?” he asked over his shoulder, pressing the red button on the jet ski that fired the engine to life. It rumbled softly underneath us, and my heart picked up speed at the noise.

  “No.”

  He chuckled. “Hold on tight.”

  Without another word or warning, Noah pressed his thumb on the throttle, and we shot away from the shore.

  I yelped, nearly falling off backward before I gripped his abdomen tighter. “Noah!”

  I watched the speed climb the same way the grin on his face did. The numbers on the little screen increased too quickly — ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five. We flew over the soft waves of Lake Stratford, slicing through the water like a viper, and my heart threatened to leap out of my chest with each new acceleration.

  “I changed my mind. I want off. I want off!”

  Noah just laughed, his head tilting back a little before he reached with the hand not on the gas behind him. He squeezed my knee once reassuringly, glancing over his shoulder quickly before he turned back to the lake ahead.

  “It’s okay. I promise. Just trust me.”

  I stared at his hand on my knee, the warmth of it spreading over my entire leg before it dipped somewhere under the bottoms of my swim suit. He removed it just as fast as he had placed it there, and my heart raced in my chest for a completely different reason.

  I tried to calm my breathing, to find assurance in his promise that it would all be okay as my hair whipped in the wind behind me. But when a large boat crossed in front of us, leaving a massive wake, and Noah didn’t steer away from it, my eyes bulged.

  “Noah,” I said as a warning.

  He kept going, aimed straight for the large waves the boat had made when it passed.

  “Noah, don’t you dare.”

  “Hang on!”

  “Noah!”

  But it was too late. We hit the first wave made by the boat, the nose of the jet ski skipping up a few inches off the water. I screamed, gripping onto Noah so tight I thought I’d cut off his breathing. The next wave was even bigger, and the jet ski flew into the air, the roar of the engine ebbing a little at the loss of water pressure as we went airborne.

  I was still screaming, gripping, fearing for my life when we landed again, and this time Noah cut the wheel right, turning us along the edge of the waves instead of straight over them. We rode them fast and furious, catching another fit of air before we were out of the waves and back on the glassy water.

  I was pretty sure my stomach was still somewhere back behind us.

  Noah slowed down until we were stopped, floating in the middle of the lake to the tune of the soft, rumbling engine. He turned to look at me over his shoulder with a shit-eating grin.

  “That was fun.”

  I smacked his shoulder, shoving like I was going to push him off while I fought against a smile. “That was not fun! That was terrifying!”

  “Yeah? Why you smiling, then?”

  “I’m not smiling!” I insisted, but even as the words fell from my lips, I couldn’t fight the grin. I laughed, softly at first before it took over completely, and I laughed so hard I had to wrap my hands over my stomach, my forehead hitting the place between his shoulders as I tried to catch my breath.

  When I looked up again, Noah just quirked one brow in victory.

  I shook my head. “You’re infuriating, Noah Becker.”

  “I believe I was the first one to say that about you, Ruby Grace Barnett.”

  I smiled wider, blowing out a breath before running my hands back through my damp hair. “Okay. Fine. I admit it. That was fun.”

  “Told you.”

  “What now?”

  He grinned, thumb hovering over the throttle as he faced forward again. “Better wrap those beautiful arms around me again, sweetheart.”

  And I did, just in time for him to cut the wheel and floor it, spinning us in a donut circle that made huge, billowing waves around us. I was laughing and squealing, leaning into the turn with him when he cut the wheel again, and we went flying over the waves we’d made.

  I didn’t know how much time passed with him doing donuts and figure-eights and making waves bigger than the jet ski before he’d send us barreling over them, but I did know that the huge smile didn’t leave my face the entire time. My cheeks hurt by the time we finally slowed again, and we were both breathing hard, chests heaving with the adrenaline and excitement.

  “You’re wild,” I whispered on a laugh, trying to catch my breath.

  “What’s that?” he asked, grinning at me over his shoulder.

  “You’re wild!” I said louder, throwing my hands up in the air and turning my face to the sun. I closed my eyes, basking in the rays and the feeling of euphoria for a long moment. When I looked at Noah again, he was watching me, throat thick with a swallow as his eyes searched mine.

  The sun that had felt so light and airy just moments before seemed to beat down on us then, the heat unbearable, our lips so close where he tilted his head toward me, where I leaned into him.

  My hands slipped around his waist again, shaking a little as they settled over the ribs and valleys of his abdomen. I licked my lips, eyes falling to his before I caught his steel gaze once more.

  There were so many words I wanted to say in that moment, so many words that would have completely annihilated our friends only agreement.

  Kiss me.

  Touch me.

  I don’t feel this way with anyone else.

  Each new thought shocked me more than the last, and my lips parted, the effort to catch my breath lost somewhere in the wind that swept over us. I should have been thinking about Anthony, about our wedding, about everything I needed to get done for it, about everything we would do as a married couple in our life together.

  I should have been thinking about anything other than how much I wished Noah would cross the line we drew between us and capture my lips with his.

  He wanted me. I knew he wanted me. And I knew if I leaned in even another inch, he’d take me.

  So, with every ounce of willpower I had, I backed away, eyes floating down to the seat between us before I looked at him again, wearing a fake, everything’s okay smile.

  And instead of saying all the words whirring through my mind, I settled on three safe ones, instead.

  “Can I drive?”

  * * *

  Noah

  The sun was a lazy ball of fire riding on the evening clouds later that day when Ruby Grace and I spread out a large blanket on the beach. She was lying on her stomach, her legs slowly kicking in the air as she popped another strawberry between her lips. Her focus was on the lake, on the jet skis and boats and fishermen and tubers and swimmers.

  Mine was on her.

  The back of her swim suit top had shifted, showing me the lines the sun had already made on her skin that day. Her hips were narrow, her small ass curved and toned, her legs still the epitome of every man’s fantasy as she swung them gently in the air — back and forth, back and forth, ten manicured toes skating the sky.

  I would have been perfectly content to stare at her, just like that, for as long as I lived.

  Even if I couldn’t have her, if I couldn’t kiss her or touch her or pull her into me and shield her from every unwanted harm — just looking at her was a blessing. I felt her presence swell into my chest, filling me up in some way that I never would have realized before.

  Because I didn’t know I was empty.

  Not until she poured into my life.

  Ruby Grace’s content sigh brought me back to the moment as she shifted, rolling onto her side and propping her chin up with one ha
nd. “So, what made you think of Stratford Lake for our friend date?”

  I took another bite of the sandwiches we’d bought from the lake’s convenient store, speaking around the mass of meat and bread in my mouth. “My dad used to bring all of us out here. It’s one of my favorite places.”

  Her face sobered. “And you brought me?”

  I shrugged. “I thought maybe it could become one of your favorite places, too.”

  A soft breeze rolled over us, brushing Ruby Grace’s wild hair back over her shoulders as a soft smile found her face. I marveled at the deep blue water of the lake behind her, the beige sand, the warm glow of the sun drifting in and out of the clouds. It was the kind of view an artist would stop time for, pulling out their easel or camera or pen and paper to capture the moment in whatever way they could.

  “What was he like?” Ruby Grace asked. “Your dad?”

  I smiled, stealing a strawberry from her plate and popping it in my mouth. “He was the original trouble maker. I remember Mom always yelling at him for something. But, not in a way that they were actually fighting. It was more like this adorable, you annoy me but I love you anyway kind of yelling.”

  Ruby Grace smiled, running her fingers over the sand at the edge of the blanket. “So, I guess we have him to thank for the notorious Becker brothers running amok, huh?”

  “Oh, definitely. But, it’s not like we go looking for trouble,” I pointed out. “We were just taught from a young age not to put up with anything that’s wrong. So, whether that means sticking up for ourselves or for our brothers or a friend or even a complete stranger, that’s what we did. It’s what we do.” I shrugged. “Dad never raised hell unless there was something to raise hell about.”

  “Like the way Patrick Scooter was running the distillery?”

  I blanched, heart stopping in my chest as I watched Ruby Grace in a new way. She was the mayor’s daughter — young, affluent, far removed from the distillery. I knew everyone in the town had some sort of tie to Scooter Whiskey, but it surprised me that she knew anything about the inner workings of the place.

  “Yeah,” I finally managed. “Exactly like that.”

  “My dad hated it, too,” she said, dragging her index finger in a heart shape over the sand before she erased it with her palm. “He said Patrick was tarnishing the brand, taking out all the honesty and down-home history that made the whiskey special. He said Patrick was going too mainstream, trying to be something Scooter Whiskey wasn’t.”

  “That’s how my dad felt, too. And he had all these ideas about how to keep the same traditions, but liven up the brand, too. He was smart. He had research and industry surveys. He knew what he was talking about.”

  “But Patrick wouldn’t listen.”

  I nodded. “He seems to still have that problem.”

  Ruby Grace watched me for a long moment, her fingers paused in their current doodle in the sand. “The fire your dad died in… your family doesn’t believe it was an accident, do they?”

  I swallowed, watching a boat in the distance as I tried to figure out how to respond. The answer was easy — no, we didn’t believe it was an accident. But, admitting that was admitting that we had conjured some conspiracy theory, that we thought the Scooters were crooked, that someone had it out for our dad. It was essentially admitting insanity, and I didn’t want to do that — especially when Mom’s reputation and heart was on the line.

  “We believe there’s a lot we don’t know about that day,” I decided on, and before she could respond, I changed the subject to her. “What’s your dad like? It had to be kind of hard, growing up as the Mayor’s daughter.”

  A sarcastic smile spread over Ruby Grace’s face, and she rolled, splaying out on her back with her eyes on the sky above. “Let’s just say my dad felt more like a father figure than he ever did a father.”

  I frowned. “Wasn’t around much, I take it.”

  She shook her head, eyes tracing the clouds. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s a great dad to me and my sister. He provides for us, tells us how proud he is of us and how much he loves us. He’s like me in a way that Mom and Mary Anne don’t understand. He gets it when I need to hide away, when my anxiety spikes in a crowd. And if Mom ever needs help with parenting, he steps in, no questions asked. He helped me with my college application and essay, told me he would support me no matter what I decided to major in. And thanks to him, I’ve got the best golf game of any woman in Stratford, I’d bet.”

  She paused, regaling his great dad qualities like there was some list and as long as he had checked those boxes, she couldn’t say otherwise.

  “But,” she continued. “Sometimes it just felt like he was this mostly silent bystander and Mom was both parents. Dad’s real kid is this town, and everything that goes along with nurturing it. That’s where his time goes. That’s where his energy is spent.” She chuckled. “Well, that and the casino or any gambling event he can con the council members into.”

  “And that doesn’t bother you?”

  “No,” she answered quickly, biting her bottom lip before releasing it again. “I understand it, feeling so passionate about something that you’d want to dedicate your life to it. He really looked up to Grandpa, too, and I think he always wanted to take his place. This is just what makes him happy. And I love him, I want him happy.” She rolled onto her side again. “Now, do I wish we had more time together growing up? Sure. But, I get him. And he gets me. At least, for the most part.”

  “For the most part,” I mused. “Meaning, he probably wouldn’t be cool with you going back to college after the wedding either.”

  A shadow passed over her face, and I internally cursed at myself, knowing I’d crossed over in the territory that always made her clam up and run away. She didn’t like talking about her dreams, about sacrificing those for her soon-to-be husband.

  And it seemed to be my favorite button to push.

  I was surprised when she didn’t yell at me or tell me to mind my own business as she stormed across the beach and away from me. Instead, she let out a long breath, eyes falling to the blanket we sat on before they found mine again. “I’m sure he wouldn’t exactly be thrilled, no. But, it’s more Mama than it is him. She knows what it takes to be a politician’s wife, and she’s been more than open with me about it.”

  “What exactly does it take?”

  She shrugged. “Selflessness. Passion. Love and understanding that I won’t always be the priority in his life. But, that was part of the reason I was so attracted to Anthony when we first met. He knows what he wants, and he’s driven, and smart. I love that about him.”

  My chest tightened the more she talked about him. It was the first time she’d said it — that she loved him — where I actually believed it was true.

  I hated it.

  “I think it’s amazing that you found a man like that,” I finally offered, swallowing my pride like a jagged pill. “I really do. But, and I don’t mean to say anything out of line, but I wonder if he wouldn’t support you the same — if you told him you wanted to go back to school or volunteer with AmeriCorps. You could be there for him and still be there for yourself, too.”

  Ruby Grace nodded, but she wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Yeah. I suppose.”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  Another nod.

  “If you could look twenty years down the road on a blissfully perfect day in your future life, what would it look like?”

  She smiled, finally looking at me again. Her eyes were filled with wonder and curiosity, like I was some project she was assigned to but didn’t know where to start.

  “Hmmm…” she said, lying back again. She crossed her long legs, folding her hands over her bare navel as she watched the clouds. “It would be Sunday. After church. I’d have a huge, delicious supper spread, the table set for a family of five. My three kids would be out in the yard playing, and as I watched them from the kitchen window, my husband would come up behind me, wrap his arms around me, and ask me to danc
e.”

  I swallowed past the thick knot in my throat, visions of my own parents flooding my mind. And it wasn’t lost on me that in her vision, she didn’t mention Anthony, specifically.

  “What else?” I asked.

  She smiled wider. “We’d have a dog — a big one. One that would slobber everywhere and knock our toddlers down when he played with them. And our house would be country, but not like the classic southern style. It’d be eclectic, with art from all over the world, and bright colors and funky designs.”

  The more she talked, the more she lit up.

  “I think I’d like a big entertaining space in the back yard, a place to host parties and barbecues, and I’d want a little vegetable garden that I could grow my own tomatoes and squash.” She paused, her smile falling a little. “And I’d have a charity, one that supported something I cared about… maybe earth conservation, or education in rural locations, or quality of life for senior citizens, or mental illness support for our veterans. A way to give back. A way to save someone…”

  I smirked. “I bet it’d be the most efficiently run charity in the world. Probably the most well-known, too.”

  She rolled onto her side. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because it’s you.”

  She watched me for a long moment, like she was waiting for me to continue, but I didn’t feel the need. That was all there was to say. It was her, Ruby Grace, and we both knew that anything she set her mind to, she’d not only achieve it — she’d break records, too.

  “Noah?” she whispered.

  “Mm?”

  “Can I say something… and you not ask questions when I do?”

  I considered it, curiosity overpowering any hesitation I had. “Okay.”

  Ruby Grace sat up, then, sitting on her knees as she tucked her hair behind both ears. Those kneecaps brushed the tops of my thighs where I was lying on my side in front of her, nothing between us but a half-empty container of strawberries and two bottles of water.

  She chewed her cheek, like she wasn’t sure what to say or how to say it, and her eyes watched her hand — the one braced on the blanket just a few inches from mine.

 

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