Barefoot and clad in nothing but the clinging swim shorts now pasted to his long legs, Will walked the length of the dock directly toward me. He stopped in front of me, and without saying a word, took the logs I was holding.
“Where do these go?” he asked.
Unable to speak, I pointed toward the back of the house, and without waiting, Will immediately turned in that direction. Midway down the path, he stopped and turned.
“Also, I had your car towed to a mechanic in town,” he said without moving his gaze from mine. “They said you can pick it up on Tuesday, probably.”
“O-okay,” I managed to stutter, still stunned that he was even here.
Will gave a curt nod and continued to the wood pile.
“Second thought, I could probably stay a little longer.”
I turned around to find Lucas staring daggers at the spot where Will had just disappeared around the side of the house.
Lucas massaged his neck and scowled harder. “You okay with that?”
“Um, okay,” I mumbled, still too lost in the long, lean form walking around the house to answer properly. “Thank you. I’m going to go check on Mama.”
Inside, I found Mama watching Will and Lucas lugging firewood back and forth from one side of the house to the pile on the other like she was judging an Olympic sport.
“Maggie Mae,” she asked, beckoning with one hand until I joined her. “Who in ever-lovin’ Jesus is that?”
Like me just seconds before, she was also transfixed by the soaked column of muscle standing by the wood, looking like a dog about to shake itself off. Drops of water clung to every chiseled curve, with the light sparkling off the tiny prisms. Will looked around the property for a moment, and then found us at the window. His ever-stoic expression barely shifted, but he raised a brief hand in acknowledgement of our presence, then walked back to the other side of the yard for another armful of wood.
“That’s…Will,” I offered, barely able to get the words out myself as we watched him lift the large pieces of wood. The movement made the lean muscles in his back ripple while the sun flashed off the water drops still there. I swallowed, my tongue suddenly thick in my throat.
“Will?” Mama looked at me, her brown eyes uncharacteristically sharp as a knife. “That’s all I get? ‘That’s Will’?”
I shrugged, even though I could feel my face turning red under her gaze. “That’s all there is.”
Mama studied me for a moment, then tapped her lips as she turned back to the show. “My, my, my,” she muttered to herself. “Looks like I got some lemonade to make this afternoon.”
12
The rest of the late afternoon passed quickly, with Lucas, Will, and me making efficient, if mostly wordless progress on a laundry list of tasks around the property. By six, we had gotten rid of ninety percent of the crap stored in the upper cabin, power-washed the walls and bathroom, and gotten a good start on clearing out the second cabin. It wasn’t that talking didn’t happen—it’s just that every time one of them tried to strike up a conversation, it was always with me, and the other would immediately shut it down. It was subtle. Will, for instance, realized almost immediately that Lucas would button right up every time Will called me Lily pad or some variation. And Lucas caught on just as quickly to how much Will disliked answering any kind of questions about himself, to the point where he would usually find a way to move to another area of the property.
By the time Mama called us from the deck with a tray of lemonade and a warning that if we didn’t stop soon, she’d come up and power-wash all of us herself, I was ready to jump in the lake to rid myself of grime. Not to mention the tension between the two men who had been working around me for the last few hours.
We all clambered onto the deck, a rather odd trio: Lucas in his completely appropriate work boots and jeans, me in my light summer shorts and t-shirt now stained beyond the capability of any cleanser, and Will, still barefoot and in nothing but his now dried swim trunks. Lucas and Will both eagerly took the glasses of fresh lemonade from Mama, but I shook my head when she offered it to me. If I knew my mother, that pitcher was about a quarter vodka.
“Thank you, Ms. Sharp,” Will said before taking a drink. His eyes shot open at the taste, and I gave him a woeful smile. Yeah, definitely full of vodka. He took another long sip, though his eyes didn’t leave mine the entire time.
Lucas accepted his and smiled after he downed the first half easily. “Thanks, Ellie. I forgot how good your lemonade is. You’ll have to come teach my mom how to make it sometime. I bet the guests would like it.”
“Well, then how would I be able to chase down my own guests, honey?” Mama called as she went back inside the house.
Lucas smiled, but didn’t answer. Mama was joking, but the sharpness in her voice was audible. She knew, just as I did, that no one on the lake, including Lucas, ever thought she would be able to run a business. Ellie Sharp was the one you went to for fun. She was the one who poured your drinks and took an extra shot with you. She was not the one you trusted with a bank loan or any kind of ledger sheet.
But I was. I had to believe that. For her sake. For mine.
Beside me, Will cleared his throat. “What about you, Maggie?” he asked. “Do you have the magic lemonade recipe too?”
I snorted. “If only. But I would probably turn it green or something. I’m a totally shit cook.”
Lucas’s brows jumped a little at my profanity—he always knew me as a church-going girl growing up. A lot of things had changed since I went to New York. Beside him, Will held back a smile. Damn. So close.
“Oh. Well.” Lucas perked up. “Hey, did you hear that Michael Grady’s band is playing at Curly’s on Friday?”
I shook my head. “No, I didn’t even know they were still together. It’s not the same garage band from high school, is it?”
Lucas chuckled. “Yeah. They got a real drummer, so now they can keep a beat, but everyone else is the same. They’re actually pretty good. You should come by.”
I turned to Will. “It could be fun, if you want to come. Get out of the house a little.”
Will just folded one arm around his torso while taking a long drink of lemonade. His hand drifted to his face, as if looking for a beard to tug on.
“I don’t know, man,” Lucas joked. “There’ll be people there. Not really your thing, right? After all, you’ve been here, what, four years now? And no one has ever seen you?”
It was barely visible, but Will cringed. He gripped his glass and said nothing, but it was obvious he wanted to leave.
“It’ll be just me,” I said to Lucas. “I doubt Will would be interested in Mike Grady’s crappy banjo playing anyway.”
Lucas nodded with a warm smile. “Cool. Well, if you want, I’ll pick you up at—”
“I’ll be there,” Will interrupted suddenly.
Lucas and I both turned to him.
“Will,” I started. There was absolutely no way he would be able to manage a crowded bar if he couldn’t handle Norm’s Burger Barn at nine in the morning. “You don’t have to—”
“I’ll be there,” he repeated, this time staring darkly at Lucas. “I could use a copilot, though. I don’t know how to get there. If you don’t mind, Lily.”
At the sound of the name, Lucas straightened up and swallowed down the other half of his glass. I bit my lip.
“Um, sure,” I said, looking between them. “You can pick me up here, then.”
“Great,” said Will shortly. “I’m going to finish clearing off the porch so we can sand tomorrow. Would you mind putting that in the house for me, Lil?”
He handed his glass to me, which was still mostly full. I was strangely comforted by the fact he hadn’t gulped it down like Lucas. When his gaze finally landed on me again, there was no darkness in his deep green eyes. Just warmth. Deep inside of me, something began to sing.
“S-sure,” I replied.
Will left, and I turned to find Lucas watching me with a curious, if s
omewhat sad look on his face.
“What’s with the ‘Lily pad’ thing, Mags?” he wondered.
I shrugged. “Just a nickname. Nothing major.”
Lucas looked like he didn’t believe it.
“I see,” was all he said. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
* * *
I waited on the porch for a while for Will to come back, but he didn’t. Not for several more hours, well after Mama had roasted a chicken on the grill, and we had set out a table to eat on the deck. He worked until the sun fell behind the hills, until the last glimmers off the water disappeared, turning to icy flashes of moonlight. The chicken dinner had been eaten and put away, a plate of leftovers wrapped up in the fridge.
“You better go up there,” Mama said as she carried the last of the food inside. “It’s past ten. Even if his feet aren’t thick with splinters by this point, they’re still going to hurt like the dickens tomorrow. Not to mention the skeeters must be eating him alive.”
She pulled the glass door shut, and I made my way back up the hill. The thumps of furniture and yard debris stopped by the time I arrived at the topmost cabin to find Will standing on its rickety porch, hands perched on his head, holding his hair off his neck. At the sound of my footsteps, he turned. His green eyes glowed.
“How was dinner with Daniel Boone?” he bit out.
I frowned. “What are you talking about?”
Will wrinkled his long, straight nose. “I could smell it from here. You guys seemed to be laughing a lot.”
I glanced down at the cabin, then up to the hill where the parking spots were empty except for Mama’s.
“Will,” I said. “Lucas left just after you came back up here. Didn’t you see him drive off?”
Will’s mouth opened, then closed as he glanced over my shoulder and saw the empty lot. “I…no. I was down at the other cabin.”
I looked around. The porch was spotless, just like the one below. On top of that, it looked like Will had stacked and restacked the wood piles on either side. It was like he’d been looking for things to do to stay and stay away at the same time.
“I don’t like that guy.”
I turned back to him with a frown. “Okay… I guess that’s fair. He doesn’t seem to like you either.”
“Why does he call you ‘Mags’ all the time? It’s annoying. He sounds like a British tabloid.”
My eyes narrowed. “He calls me that because it’s my name.”
“Your name is Maggie.”
“You don’t call me that either.”
Will exhaled through his teeth. “He wants you.”
“What of it?” My hands moved to rest on my hips.
Will glared through the wavy, dark blond ropes falling all over his face. Several strands stuck to his forehead from a combination of grime and sweat. He fished a rubber band out of his pocket and wound his hair into a knot. It only then occurred to me to wonder why he hadn’t done it before now. It was close to ninety degrees this afternoon. All of us were sweating like crazy.
“Do you want him too?” Will asked as he yanked at his hair.
I blinked in surprise. “What?”
“I don’t have to bring you to that bar on Friday,” Will said. “I could let him be your date. Take you out. Show you around. If that’s what you want, of course. So just tell me. Do. You. Want. Him?”
I pressed my lips together. I didn’t like his tone. I didn’t like the accusation in it, like I was some kind of two-timer just because someone else had asked me out. And who would I be two-timing, huh? Will? It was laughable.
“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” I said.
“Just answer the question.”
I pressed my lips shut and folded my arms across my chest. “No.”
“Fuck!”
A solid block of wood went flying down the hill, bounced off a ledge and into the lake with a splash.
I turned back to Will. “That’s our firewood, you know. And tossing it in the lake pollutes the water. Not to mention wastes the time that Lucas put into chopping it today.”
Will crossed his arms too, and it was hard to ignore the way the motion made his muscles bulge. “I was mad.”
“So was I. But I didn’t throw shit like a child.”
Will glowered at me, and our eyes locked—green eyes to brown. But the longer we stared, the more the anger started to fade, replaced by something unnamable. Something very, very potent.
“I don’t like feeling like this,” Will said.
I sucked a breath through my teeth. “Feeling like what?”
“Like this.” He took a step toward me, and I fought not to step backward. Will had a quiet authority about him, and in the shadows of the moon, his shoulders seemed to broaden, his legs seemed to lengthen. He seemed larger than life.
When he had me backed up against the porch railing, he raised a hand, floating his fingers around my jaw, over my cheeks, but never actually touching me. I arched toward his hand. I couldn’t help it. But he hovered, never making contact.
“You make me feel…” Will started. “Out of control.”
I couldn’t move. “Oh?”
“Like I actually have to care about what someone else thinks. Like I’m not alone anymore.” He paused. His eyes opened wide, following the path of his fingers as they took hold of a strand of hair in my ponytail and twirled. “And for the first time in a very long time, I feel like I don’t want to be.”
He tugged lightly on the strand, and I felt the slight pinch like an arrow through my body, shooting down my arms and legs, and coming to throb in that place no man had been for so, so long. I bit my lip. Will’s eyes dilated.
“Tell the truth, Lil. What do you want?”
You. The word echoed distantly, like a bell tolling from miles away. I didn’t understand it. I was broken. A mess. What should I want with this man? We had a connection, sure, but overall, he was nothing but trouble. He was grouchy. A loner. Clearly had serious social and emotional control issues.
And yet. There was no denying that something was here. Since we met, it certainly felt at times as if the universe itself was tilting on its axis, trying to knock me into him. Breakdown after breakdown. Meeting after meeting. And now…
I tipped my chin up so I could look directly at him, drawn like one of the moths circling the porch light. Winging through the dark, ready to dive into his golden inferno.
“I don’t want Lucas,” I said quietly, drifting my gaze up and down his naked torso. A sheen of sweat glimmered in the moonlight, which also made the shadows of his muscles—the square pectorals, the solid rack of abs, the lickable V that dipped beneath his shorts—that much more evident.
Will followed my gaze, and his hand dropped. He stepped between my legs, and his unique scents engulfed me. Working all afternoon only made them that much stronger—the scent of pine trees, lake water, and man swallowed me with a heady rush that made me shake slightly. And it was then, only then, that he finally touched me. My waist was encircled by his wide palms, so broad that his fingers nearly touched on either side. It was relatively innocent, but the intent was clear. Just like last night, he held me still; I couldn’t move unless he wanted me to. For that moment, I was his.
When I looked back up, his eyes were fixed on my lips. Unconsciously, I licked the lower one. His pupils dilated even more.
“Lil,” he whispered as he leaned a little closer.
“What are you waiting for?” I murmured. Now I was the one staring at his mouth—so soft and full under his newly trimmed beard.
I panted. Will swore.
“Fuck it,” he growled. “I don’t fucking know.”
Sometimes you don’t know you wanted something until you have it. Sometimes you don’t know you need something until it’s there.
His mouth found mine in a fury, one that surprised me for about a half second before. The hands at my waist gripped so tightly, I almost couldn’t breathe, and I felt like I was strangled—not for lack
of oxygen, but for lack of him. Will’s lips made me feel like I was breathing for the first time; like I’d been under water my entire life, and he was the air I’d never known I needed.
His tongue encircled mine with yearning and need, the kind that made me moan louder than the wind passing through the trees, louder than the osprey that gave a sudden cry from its nest above. Our bodies pressed together, and Will’s chest, still slick from work, slipped against my palms pushing over his shoulders and into his hair while his hands grasped everywhere else: my waist, my thighs, my ass. He lifted me off the ground like I was nothing and urged my legs around his taut waist as he set me on the porch railing. We devoured each other completely, in a kiss that was both salty and sweet. That tasted like pine trees and fresh water and sweat and just a hint of fresh lemons.
“Will,” I moaned as his lips found my neck.
He flicked his tongue in tight circles, then sucked hard enough that I knew there would be a spot there the following day. I groaned. I wanted more.
“Lily.” His breath, hot and anxious, blew cool over the spot before he bit down on my earlobe, traced teeth across my cheek, and found my mouth again with fierce hunger.
He was more animalistic than ever, grunting into my mouth as I sucked on his lower lip, his hands kneading mercilessly at my thighs. The solid heat of his arousal—and by solid, I mean way more than anything I’d thought was there under his shorts—shoved between my legs. Will growled, and the soft prickle of his beard against my cheek sent ripples of want down my spine. Animal, I thought. It turned me on that much more.
“Ah!” I cried as he rocked into me.
I reached down for the elastic band of his swimsuit. There was so little between us. His shorts. My shorts. Two quick yanks, and we’d get what we both needed. It had been so long—so long. Only a few times had I tried to move past what Theo had done—more for the sake of moving on, a way of asserting my agency amidst a trial that swallowed my life. And every time had been a dismal failure. I’d run away, left my prospective partners in a wake of my fears, anger, thoughts of anything but them. Right now I could barely think of anything else. Will. He consumed me with just a kiss.
Discreet: The Discreet Duet: Book I Page 11
