Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 92938 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92938 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
For a moment we stood together, looking at the lake, Haven’s hands continuing to move serenely. “What a dream this place is,” she sighed.
“Not always,” I said.
She turned her eyes to me, tilting her head at whatever she’d heard in my tone. What a dream. She’d said something similar at the festival about the town, about being lucky to live here, and I’d agreed with her. It was idyllic, the people were warm and friendly. And living beside a lake was picturesque, among other things. But all of that could be deceiving. Who knew that better than the Hale family?
But I didn’t want to talk about that. Not now. Not when the setting sun was beginning to make the water around us shimmer like gold. Not when it had been such a good day, barring the incident with the scam-artist known as Clarice. Not when Haven was beside me wearing practically nothing. “I just mean, no town is perfect.”
She paused in thought before looking away. “No. I don’t imagine it is. People live here after all. But whatever imperfect events take place, a setting like this sure must soften the blow,” she said, attempting lightness. I smiled. True enough.
I took Haven’s trailing hand in mine, stepping deeper into the water. She offered a small amount of resistance. “Not too far,” she said on a breathy laugh.
“I’m with you,” I said. “I won’t let you drown.”
She paused only a moment and then took the next several steps with me, until the water was lapping at her waist.
“See?” I said. “You can still see your feet on the bottom.”
She nodded. “Yes. The water’s so clear.” She brought some of the water up with the hand not holding mine, running it over her arms and shoulders. “Ah, that feels nice,” she murmured.
I tugged her a little farther and she laughed. “This is far enough.”
“Just a few more steps. Here I’ll help you.” I let go of her hand and moved in quickly, slipping my arms around her waist and pulling her to me as I stepped forward, off the small drop-off that had been just ahead. She laughed, pushing at my chest, but then quickly wrapped her arms around my neck when she realized that she could only touch the bottom with her tippy-toes.
Her face registered surprise then a brief flare of fear, her arms bringing her even closer as she held on. “You tricked me, Travis Hale.”
No, you tricked me. How and why and when, I wasn’t exactly sure. But I felt bamboozled, as though she’d done something on purpose to make things, me, everything, seem one way when they were really another. I couldn’t even make sense of my own thoughts.
“I did, but only because I wanted you to feel the water all over you. I wanted you to experience what it’s like to float. I won’t let you go, I promise. I’ve got you.”
She gave me an exasperated stare, but the fear seemed to have faded and after a moment, she leaned her head back, letting the water lap around her shoulders as we bobbed together in the water.
My gaze dropped to her breasts, her slight round cleavage just showing above the water, her stomach pressed to mine. God, it felt good. She was warm and soft and slippery, and it was taking everything in me not to lower my head and kiss that sweet dip between her breasts, to drag my tongue over the swells, to trail my lips along her collarbone. I throbbed, growing harder. My blood coursing hotter.
Haven brought her head forward, her eyes meeting mine. Her face was so close, the way it’d been when we first kissed. Only that had been in dim lighting and so sudden that I hadn’t had the chance to look at her up close, to notice the details of her face . . . the almost invisible, fine hairs that made her skin look like velvet, the dark striations in her coffee-colored eyes, the perfect dip of her cupid’s bow, and the small beauty mark on her left cheek, barely as large as the tip of a pen.
My breath came shorter, body reacting to the soft press of her skin and the way she clung to me. A curl sprung free and hit me in the eye, making me squint and laugh in sudden surprise. “This hair,” I said, bringing one hand up and attempting unsuccessfully to tuck it behind her ear, “is a wonder.”
“It’s a curse,” she murmured. I attempted another ear tuck, the curl obeying this time, but likely not for long. I allowed my fingers to caress the side of her silken cheek. Her eyes flared, and I saw the same heat in hers that must be in my own. I could feel her heart beating against my chest and I noticed when her breath hitched. “It came from my dad I suppose because my mom’s hair was as straight as could be,” she said, glancing away, “though that could have been any number of men. My mom never really did pin it down.”