Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Holt
The week passes quickly, Maple and I falling into a rhythm of work, Sunny Shores, and dinner at home, usually after a quick hike or weight workout. Maple doesn’t join me lifting weights, choosing yoga out on the dock instead. Somehow it’s easy to live with her. There are still some awkward moments, but mostly it’s just peaceful.
And nice to have someone there.
Come Friday, we decide to really live a little and stop to grab a nicer bottle of wine and marshmallows for roasting at the grocery store. Apparently every tourist in town for the summer had the same idea. The crowds start to get to me, but Maple just snakes her arm around my waist and snuggles in close. I’m not sure why, but having her near calms my brain. She’s like Adderall in human form. We make it out of the store with our items and my dignity intact.
“You’re trying yoga tonight and I’m not taking no for an answer!” Maple shoves the wine bottle on the kitchen counter out of the way and spins to face me.
She puts her hands on her hips in a flourish, which only makes her unbound boobs sway beneath her capped-sleeve top. Honestly, she could demand anything and I’d do it. The woman is fun, and pretty, and has the nicest pair of breasts I’ve ever seen in my life. Not that I’ve seen hers. I mean, not really. Just the outline of her nipples in those pajamas the first night here. She’s well-endowed and she doesn’t seem to own a bra, which I am one hundred percent okay with. Except when I’m lying in bed unable to sleep and sporting a permanent hard-on.
I hold my hands up and will my gaze to lift to her face. “Yes, ma’am. Meet you on the dock?”
Mookie runs around the yard like a canine possessed, then passes out in the doggie bed I brought outside for her. On the dock, I lay out both yoga mats I usually use for stretching after my weight workouts.
Maple smiles as she comes out of the cabin and sees us both waiting for her. I feel like a hero for simply saying yes to yoga instruction. That feeling quickly fades when we’re both on our mats and I’m about to die in the first fucking position she puts me in. She calls it down dog, but I call it “calves on fire.” She giggles from upside down, then barks at me to lift one leg. As if precariously balancing on three points of contact is a good idea when near a body of water. I grunt and her giggles amplify.
“Now to a pushup position and slowly lower to the mat.”
I can actually do that one, thanks to all the pushups I’ve done over the years. She calls for up dog next and I have to watch her do it before I follow. Her breasts jut into the air and her back bends impossibly backward. My chest is mostly pointing to the mat still. Maple gets up and stands over me, her bare feet straddling my hips. Layered gold chains circle her ankles, each more dainty than the next. One has a charm of an anchor dangling from it. Her hands close around my shoulders and she pulls me back further, intent on breaking my back in two.
“Arghh!” Sounds are coming out of me that I can’t control. “Bodies…aren’t…meant…to bend…this way!”
Her giggle, one I usually love to hear, is starting to sound a little diabolical. “You’ve got this, Holt. I’ve taught a lot of classes, including one that several NFL players came to on the regular. If they can do yoga, you can too.”
My grimace turns into a jealous frown. She touched football players like this?
“Now, lower back to the mat and push back into our second down dog.”
She demonstrates on her own mat, and I miss her hands on me. This time, my calves don’t quite burn as much. She instructs me into warrior pose, which feels pretty good. But then she has us twisting at the waist and reaching for the sky. I decide she’s pure evil. I must black out or go to a safe space in my head because the next thing I know, I’m dripping sweat into a puddle on my mat and Maple’s said the magical words.
“To end things off, let’s try bridge pose before relaxing into savasana.”
She demonstrates, lying on her back, pulling her feet in and pressing her hips to the sky easily. I try to copy her but grunt as my hips fall back to the mat. Maple stands up, straddling my hips again, this time with me on my back staring up at her. She’s so fucking pretty with her mess of blonde wavy hair and sky-blue eyes. With a yoga flush to her face and a sheen of sweat on her skin, she’s even prettier.
“Okay, lift up your hips and I’ll help.” She puts her hands on my hips and I do as she instructed. Except with her helping, my hips do thrust up to the sky, where they meet her body. As she’s straddling me. I squeeze my eyes shut and beg my body not to respond.
I will not get a boner doing yoga with my fake fiancée.
I will not get a boner doing yoga with my fake fiancée.
“Good, Holt. You’ve got it.” Maple’s throaty encouragement seals the deal.
I get a boner doing yoga with my fake fiancée.
My eyes fly open to see Maple’s widening. Her cheeks flame red and she slowly lets go of my hips and steps off of me. “Great. Let’s cool down with savasana. Relax all your muscles, close your eyes, and melt down into your mat.”
I sneak a peek down at my body, sprawled on the mat. Fuck, there’s nowhere to hide the erection. He’s pitched a tent right here in our yoga session. I hope to God Maple’s eyes are closed. She continues talking through a meditation of sorts and I find myself melting backward into the mat and her words until the tent is gone and I’m calmer than I’ve been in a decade.
“Holt? Did I lose you?”
Her gentle voice pulls me out of a nap. I blink my eyes and gain some awareness. I’m still on my mat by the lake. “I nailed that last pose.”
Maple grins and moves away to roll up her mat. “You’re a savasana king, Holt McGrath.”
I sit up, feeling like I’ve twisted my body into a great workout. “I have to admit…I see the appeal. I should do yoga a couple times a week.”
Maple offers me a hand, which I take, standing up and grabbing her mat and my own. “I’d love to join you if you don’t mind. I miss teaching.”
We head for the cabin, where I pour her a glass of wine and get started on dinner as she sits on a barstool and watches me. “Why’d you quit?”
Her shoulders slump. I pretend to be preoccupied with chopping the salad in perfect bite-sized pieces, but I’m intently focused on her. “My fiancé—the real one, not you—was an instructor at the same studio I taught at. Things were good while we dated and he eventually asked me to marry him with a ring he made out of a flower stem.”
My head shoots up. “And here I went and spent money on real gold for Macy.”
Maple smiles wryly. “It was cute at the time, but not so cute when I found him in our bed with a new instructor. Younger one, cheerleader type. In it to wear skimpy workout outfits and not the actual practice of yoga.”
“That bastard,” I growl.
Maple laughs, but I wasn’t joking. What kind of idiot cheats on Maple Thatcher? She’s sweet, beautiful, charming in her awkward ways, super funny, and loyal to her family.
“Anyway, he’s not worth wasting any time on. I just never got around to telling Grandma Gracie because she was so excited when I told her I was engaged. I didn’t want to disappoint her.”
I slide the chicken into the oven and pour my own glass of wine, making sure I top off Maple’s. “I’m sure she could never be disappointed in you, Maple. She talks about you all the time. I felt like I knew you before you even came to Anchor Lake.”
Maple clinks her glass to mine. “You did know me!”
I roll my eyes and take a sip. “Being twelve and fourteen doesn’t really count.”
She nods in agreement and the conversation turns to speculation as to who Hank is and whether we’ll ever find him. We take our plates outside and sit around the unlit fire pit as we eat. Maple doesn’t eat much of the chicken. I always forget that most people aren’t used to eating as plainly as I do.
“Sorry about the chicken. I know it’s pretty plain, even with the rub.”
Maple waves her fork in the air. “No, it’s fine. I just don’t eat a lot of animal meat.”
“Oh, shit. I’m so sorry.” I stand up and grab her plate, taking the chicken out of her face. She laughs it off, being kind when I’ve been offensive.
“Seriously, it’s fine. I do eat some, just not much. I mean, I even splurged and ate a hot dog the other day! I appreciate you making me dinner.” She stands and takes both her plate and mine, heading for the kitchen. “I’ve got dish duty!”
I hang my head. “Fuck.” It didn’t even occur to me to ask, but it makes sense. She’s into yoga and a lot of yoga types are vegetarian or vegan. And here I’ve been trying to impress her by making dinner most nights, and I’ve been serving her nothing but meat!
While she’s inside and I’m outside mentally lashing myself for being an idiot, I put some logs in the fire pit and get the fire started. Making myself useful, I get the marshmallows ready to go. Maple’s probably starving after pushing the chicken around her plate instead of eating it. She comes back out with our wineglasses topped off and a smile on her face.
“Seriously. Stop. I can see the guilt on your face. I really appreciate you making me dinner. I should have told you that first night but I didn’t want to appear rude when you were letting me stay here.”
I take the wineglass she offers and hand her a long stick with a marshmallow on the end. “Maple. You’re not rude for letting your needs be known.”
Her head bows, and for a second, I think I’ve offended her again. When her head lifts, her eyes are suspiciously glassy. “Thanks, Holt. I guess I’m just not used to people wanting to know my needs.”
I shake my head slowly, wondering who the hell she’s been hanging out with. “This ex-fiancé is more of an asshat every second.”
Her smile is sad and it makes my chest ache. “It’s not just him.”
I plop my wineglass down on the flat stone ring around the fire pit. Then I take hers out of her hand and place it next to mine. The marshmallow stick is resting on the edge, far enough away from the fire to still roast, but not burn. Maple’s looking at me curiously. My palms slide to both sides of her cheeks, and I tilt her head back to look me directly in the eyes.
“When you’re here in Anchor Lake, in this cabin, with me …you express your needs. I want to hear every single one of them. You understand me, Maple?”
Her throat bobs as she swallows hard. “Are you sure?”
Every muscle in my body simultaneously melts toward her while also lighting into a flaming inferno of want. “Yes, Maple.” My voice is barely above a whisper. Just a scrape of sound between us. “Tell me what you want right now, my little moonbeam.”
Her hands land on my chest, light as a feather. She could push me away and I’d let her go in an instant. But I hope she doesn’t. I hope she clutches my shirt in her fists and yanks me to her. I’m tired of dancing around the sexual tension between us. Tired of pretending she doesn’t occupy every single thought in my head while I should be focused on patients.
“I want a redo,” she whispers, eyes hooded and unfocused.
For a second, I think she means dinner. But when her eyes lift again, I know she feels everything I’m feeling right now. There’s desperation in her blue irises that has to be mirrored in mine.
“Our first kiss,” she clarifies.
She barely gets the words out and my mouth is on hers, my tongue putting pressure on her lips to part for me. She does, granting me entrance while my head goes utterly, completely silent. It’s just her warm breasts pressed to my chest, her lips seeking more, her tongue dueling with mine. A little whimper escapes her mouth and I swallow it down, wanting to consume this woman in every way. I want to own every moan and groan she can make. I want to obliterate every kiss in her memory except for mine. I want to kiss her until neither one of us can breathe.
My hands leave her face and slide down her body, gripping her hips and then sliding around to the curvy ass that taunted me in her tight yoga leggings from the mat next to me. She grinds her hips against the erection that’s back with a vengeance and now I’m the one groaning. Her hands slide into my hair and she pulls. Every strand lights up with pain and pleasure.
The heat between us flares out of control. I’m lost in the kiss until Mookie lets out a sharp bark. I grouse at her in my head, but keep kissing Maple. When Mookie lets out a series of barks, I have to pull away enough to yell at her to be quiet. It’s enough of a break for me to realize the stick with Maple’s marshmallow is on fire and in danger of tipping out of the fire pit.
The stick starts to tilt. I swoop Maple behind me and whip off my shirt. It’s like I’m watching it happen in slow motion. Sparks fly off the stick. The marshmallow is a flaming torch arcing through the air. I’ll never forgive myself if Maple gets burned. I pounce, managing to bat down the stick and smother the fire with my shirt. Mookie is barking her head off, even after I put out the flames and stand back upright, now shirtless.
Maple’s eyes are wide, her lips swollen and red. Despite the circumstances, my face breaks into a proud smile, knowing I made her lips look like that. Maple bursts into giggles and Mookie dances around our feet, barking like a loon. It’s absolute chaos, and not the way I intended our do-over kiss to end, but that seems to be par for the course with us.
“You were just looking for a reason to lose your shirt again,” Maple says between gasps and giggles.
I give her a deadpan look. “I thought that was one hell of a hot kiss, but I guess the flames might have had something to do with it.”
Maple comes over to my side, her hands sliding up my chest and back into my hair. I shiver from feeling her touching me.
“Guess we’ll have to have a redo of the redo.”
We’re both grinning as my head lowers to hers.